magic memory—in which Val set a snake on her to test her magic—but quickly banished the thought. Even then she hadn’t known what she was doing; she’d reached out and calmed the snake on instinct. “Okay, yes. I was probably around seven years old. I didn’t understand why this stray dog followed me everywhere, and my grandmother told me it was because of my magic.”
“And did it solve the problem? Stop the stray from following you?” Morra pressed, and Veronyka began to see her meaning.
“No… There were five strays following me the next day.”
Morra nodded gravely. “That is often how it goes for young magelings. Animal magic is a social magic. It’s always reaching, seeking… and shadow magic is no different. Once we are aware of it, our mind can’t help but push out curiously, trying to test its limits. Did you experience something similar when you learned of your shadow magic?”
Veronyka thought hard on that… and realized the first shadow magic dream she ever had was on the heels of Val telling her about her second, darker magical gift. The girls had been waiting outside a market stall while their maiora haggled, when Veronyka had overheard the vendor say that the fish was days old and about to turn. Or at least, she’d thought she overheard it. When she tugged her grandmother’s sleeve and told her the fish was bad, Val and her maiora had shared a knowing look. Apparently the vendor hadn’t said those words at all, but thought them. Later, Val told Veronyka the truth of what she was, and that night Veronyka had dreamed she was flying in a sky set on fire.
“Yes,” Veronyka admitted. “So you’re saying that if I tell anyone…”
“They’ll be more susceptible—especially if they are a mage themselves. Their senses will seek you out, will search for you even within the confines of their own minds. And if you both are reaching, the connection will be that much stronger.”
Panic fluttered against Veronyka’s chest at Morra’s words. Her connection to Tristan was already too strong—it was a bond.
“But knowing has to be better than not knowing in the end, right?” she pressed, trying to put words to what she was thinking. “Even though my magic was more out of control when I first realized I had it, it eventually got stronger because I knew about it. Surely a trained animage—or shadowmage—is more capable than an untrained one, and you can’t be trained without knowing about your gift. Wouldn’t telling someone be the primary step in making them more resistant?”
Morra tapped her fingers against her lips thoughtfully. “Not sure anyone’s ever tried to teach a person without shadow magic how to defend against it. You’d have to be a shadowmage to do that, and what shadowmage wants to weaken themselves in such a way?”
“This one,” Veronyka muttered. “I hate shadow magic.”
Morra dropped her hand. “I understand, but I’m afraid it’s up to you, Veronyka. To hone your gift. Sharpen it. Then you need not worry about using it by accident against someone you care about.”
“Could you teach me? How long would it take?” Veronyka said eagerly, but Morra gave her a sad, pitying look.
“It took me twenty years to get to a place where I didn’t fear my magic getting away from me, and I’m still learning. I also happen to think your magic is stronger than mine, given the way you’ve tricked me in the past, young and untrained as you are.”
Veronyka lowered her gaze, disappointed but also slightly guilty. She wasn’t entirely untrained, though most of what Val had taught her was piecemeal and meant only to hold her back. Veronyka had learned some things through observance and others in self-defense, but it still wasn’t enough. And she didn’t have twenty years, not with Val on the prowl and her bond to Tristan getting stronger every day.
“Chin up,” said Morra, laughter in her voice. “There’s no shame in outwitting me—and you wouldn’t be the first. Avalkyra Ashfire was a shadowmage. I’m sure of it. The way her patrol obeyed her, the way they flew in battle… There was more to it than mere chemistry. I wouldn’t be surprised if they knew the truth of her ability—it would have made her control over them nearly complete.”
Unease boiled in Veronyka’s stomach. She’d wavered so long in telling Tristan about her magic, and now that she was trying to muster the courage to do it, she was realizing that she couldn’t. The thought of making