A Gathering of Shadows (Shades of Magic #2) - V.E. Schwab Page 0,93

wanting to get used to its size and weight, and quickly found himself relishing the difference, slipping into the comfort of anonymity, persona. So long as he wore the mask, Kell wasn’t Kell.

He was Kamerov.

What would Lila think about that? Lila, Lila, he’d even considered using blood magic to find her—he still had her kerchief—but stopped himself before he drew the knife. He’d gone months without stooping so low. Besides, he wasn’t some pup, chasing after a master or a bone. Let her come to him. But why hadn’t she come to—

Metal flashed, too close, and he swore and rolled, regaining his feet.

He’d traded a dozen enemies for only one, but unlike the dummies he’d trained against, this one was very much alive. Hastra shifted back and forth, in full armor, trying to avoid Kell’s blows. The young guard had been surprisingly willing to run around the Basin armed with only a small shield and a dull blade while Kell honed his agility and practiced turning elements into weapons.

The armor … he thought, wind whipping around him, is designed to crack … He leaped, pushed off a wall, slammed a gust of air into Hastra’s back…. when struck. Hastra stumbled forward and spun to face him. The first to ten hits … He continued reciting the rules as water swirled around his hand wins the match … The water split, circling both hands…. unless one of the competitors … Both streams shot forward, freezing before they hit…. is unable to continue … Hastra could only block one shard, and the second caught him in the armored thigh and shattered into drops of ice…. or admits defeat.

Kell broke into a smile behind his mask, and when the breathless guard pulled off his helmet, he was grinning, too. Kell tugged off his silver mask, his damp hair standing on end.

“Is this what you’ve been doing down here all these weeks, Master Kell?” asked Hastra breathlessly. “Practicing for the tournament?”

Kell hesitated, and then said, “I suppose.” After all, he had been training; he simply hadn’t known what he was training for.

“Well it’s paying off, sir,” said the guard. “You make it look easy.”

Kell laughed. The truth was, his whole body ached, and even while his blood sang for a fight, his power felt thin. Drained. He’d grown too used to the efficiency of blood magic, but elements took more will to wield. The fatigue from using blood spells hit him all at once, but this kind of fighting wore him down. Perhaps he’d actually get a sound night’s sleep before the tournament.

Hastra crossed the training room gingerly, as if treading on hallowed ground, and stood by the Basin’s archway, considering the equipment table with its bowl of water, its containers of earth and sand and oil.

“Do you have an element?” asked Kell, slicking back his hair.

Hastra’s smile softened. “Little of this, little of that, sir.”

Kell frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Parents wanted me to be a priest,” said the young guard, scratching his head. “But I thought that didn’t sound like nearly as much fun. Spend all day meditating in that musty stone structure—”

“You can balance?” cut in Kell, amazed. Priests were chosen not for their strength in one element, but for their tempered ability to manage all, not as Kell did, with sheer power, but with the evenness needed to nurture life. Balancing the elements was a sacred skill. Even Kell struggled with balance; just as a strong wind could uproot a sapling, an Antari’s power held too much force for the subtle arts. He could impact things already grown, but life was fragile at the start, and required a gentle touch.

The young guard shrugged, and then brightened a little. “You want to see?” he asked, almost bashful.

Kell looked around “Right now?”

Hastra grinned and dug a hand in his pocket, fetching out a small seed. When Kell raised a brow, the guard chuckled. “You never know when you might need to impress a lady,” he said. “Lots of people puff up their chest and go for the flash and the bang. But I can’t tell you how many nights have started with a seed and ended, well …” Hastra seemed to ramble whenever he got nervous, and Kell apparently made him very nervous. “Then again I doubt you’d have to try as hard to impress them, sir.”

Hastra scanned the elements on the table. In one small bowl was some loose dirt: not the rich soil of the orchards and gardens, but the rocky