“I should probably go.” I pick up the stone—as the pain in my bones grows, my time before a flare-up shortening—and set it back on top of the blade. This will have to be my last one for now. I work my magic and the stone bleeds into the metal, which gleams a moment.
Then the metal grows longer.
I gasp and drop it, and the sound of it thudding against the dirt stops my heart. I’m up on my feet, watching in horror as my dagger contorts its blade, curving it to a point like nothing I’ve ever seen. The memory of my diadem growing from my head as black as death squeezes my heart.
I glance at Jordan, his eyes narrowing with intrigue.
Pink gems bloom on its handle here and there, and I can’t tear my eyes away. Something or someone says my name, but sounds blare in my ears as Jordan picks up the blade. Run. My toushana rears up in me unbridled with force, lassoing my feet to the ground. I can’t think. I can’t move.
Jordan holds the dagger out toward me, and I close my eyes, bracing for him to slice right through me. “Quell?”
I blink.
“Quell? Do you hear me?”
I blink again, and Jordan’s holding my dagger by the blade, offering me its handle.
“This is what I meant. That Amplifier Enhancer you just used is a finicky one. Your magic has to be really strong to get enough out of it to shift the shape of your dagger.”
I take it from him, turning it in my hands, staring at what I was sure was evidence of my brokenness. “I thought I’d ruined it and messed up my chances at honing altogether.” That’s as close to the truth as I can get with him.
“I haven’t seen a dagger this impressive since my own.” He marvels at the speckled beading up and down its grip. “It is stunning. You are stunning.”
I reach for words, but I have none, so I grab my things to prepare to go.
“You were about to work yourself into a fit, it looked like. I’m glad I was here.” He holds the door open to the conservatory for me to go through.
“I am, too.” I bite my lip. Silence lingers between us. I don’t know where to look or what to say. So I just walk away.
TWENTY-FIVE
I sit, hovered over my dagger, tangled in my bedsheets, being judged by a half-eaten jumbo bag of chips and a bazillion chocolate candy wrappers. Honing exam is tomorrow, and I have hardly left this spot. Scrawly handwriting on a note catches my eye.
Are you ready?
I read Jordan’s foreboding words once more for the millionth time before knocking it into the trash. The truth is I’m not sure if I am. My fingers ache from holding my blade just so for so many hours yesterday. I flex them before grabbing one of the two final enhancers I need to fold in. The metal blade hasn’t contorted anymore either. The Amplifier Enhancer I used in the conservatory was apparently unique in its ability to change a dagger. But I’ve spent so much time folding in the enhancers that my note cards on what each actually does are collecting dust. The good news is I have my first and second declensions down backward and forward.
I eye the clock. Fifteen minutes until Abby’s fitting. I have time to do these last two. I glance at my notes, easing the bronze stone down onto my blade, one inch from its narrowest point. I press, but it shifts sideways, missing the precise spot it needs to bind to the metal.
Again. I hover it over the blade once more, careful to angle it up, and finally the stone snaps to the blade properly before folding in.
After reviewing a few handwritten notes in the margin of my book, I grab my last enhancer. Sealer Enhancer: helps homogenize the composition of the other enhancers in the metal. Do this one last. I steady the black stone over my dagger and in moments it coats my blade like a glaze of melted snow. I turn it in my hands, watching the blade absorb the sealer until it shines bright again.
I retie my unruly curls and roll my shoulders, which have been knotted since I woke up, thanks to not enough sleep. Then I sit up and hold my dagger firmly by its handle, ready to finally try pushing magic into my blade. I’m not sure how it works exactly, but I conjure warmth, and a swarm of heat gathers deep in my belly, granule by granule, until a weight sits like heated lead against my ribs. I focus on the handle firmly in my grip. Magic moves through me like live wire, pulsing with urgency, up my torso, through my arms. I tighten my hold, and I feel energizing magic coursing through me toward the handle in my hands. Now, into the blade. Nothing happens. I catch a glimpse of the clock again. Argh. I better go.
Today’s Abby’s dress decision day, and I don’t want to be late. I’m two steps down the stairs when I spot Jordan.
“Quell,” he says, just as I turn to go in the other direction. It’s been two days since our evening in the conservatory.
I stop and he catches up to me. “Jordan, I’m almost late for Abby’s fitting.” I fiddle with my bag to avoid looking at him.
“Did you finish?”
“The enhancers? Yes. I still need to practice pushing magic into my blade so when I take the exam, I can demonstrate without incident. And study for the written part.” I hold up a brick of note cards.
“Pushing magic into the dagger is the easy part. You just—”
A clock chimes. “I really have to go.”