his view of himself turn in a dizzying spin off to an angle. It wasn’t that this was upsetting—far from it. Part of Cameron was absolutely delighted. And incredulous. Possibly a little shock mixed in there. All of those childhood dreams rushed back, and it set up something of a dissonance. Cameron’s mind kept flipping between elation and skepticism.
“Adjust, Cameron. You’re a mage. You’re quite obviously a mage.”
His mouth irreverently blurted, “Oh god, Halmeoni’s never going to let me live this down. She’s sworn for years Cassie and I are mages, and I kept telling her she was crazy, and she’s never going to let me forget this.”
“I certainly wouldn’t.” Lisette’s grin might have been a bit evil. “Now, give that back. I just so happened to bring a magic primer with me, a beginner’s textbook, if you will. Don’t you want to start learning?”
Now wasn’t that a ridiculous question. But then, she’d known full well he was a mage, probably at their first meeting, as brief as that was. Of course she’d come prepared. Cameron was torn between wanting to sleep on it all and give his brain a chance to process it, and learning magic. Currently, learning magic was winning.
Curiosity. It did him in every time.
But as he handed the triangle back to her, he looked at it again, and the memory came back in a rush. “Lisette. I want to learn, but…I’ve seen that before.”
Her hand closed over both the triangle and his fingers, keeping him locked in place. Her eyes sharpened on his face. “Where? When?”
“Recently, actually. The hotel I’m staying at, I was crossing through the lobby and a guy was wearing it around his neck. It glowed like that, too.”
“Can you describe him?”
“Eh…not really? It was in passing; the guy had bumped into me by accident, I barely looked at his face. I just remember the triangle because it was a cool design and it was glowing, and I couldn’t immediately figure out why. It wasn’t like those battery-operated necklaces.” Cameron frowned at the triangle, and she let go of his fingers, taking it fully back and putting it in her pocket once more. “You said the dragons are looking for mages constantly. Is anyone else?”
“Not that I’m aware of. But someone clearly is if they have this. And it might explain why someone tried to take you today.”
That triangle took on a whole new meaning. “Because they detected I’m a mage? Damn. I’m not so happy about that.”
A dark cloud swept over Lisette’s face, as if she contemplated mayhem on some level. “Neither am I. Let me teach you some of the basics of spellcraft, young mage. I think you’ll need that sooner than later.”
“Yeah. I, uh, suddenly think that learning magic is a great idea.” Part of Cameron was still wrapping his head around the idea of him doing magic. That part would have to get over itself. He had too much proof that he was a mage. It was time to accept it and move forward. Only one problem that he could see (aside from accidentally setting something on fire or blowing it up). “Shouldn’t I report to Alric, though?”
“We will,” Lisette assured him. “But later. I’ll tell Baldewin tonight so that we’re more prepared. Right now, let me teach you. Leaving you ignorant is the worst possible choice at the moment.”
If he’d known magic when they tried to kidnap him earlier, Cameron would have been better equipped to fight them off. Alric wouldn’t have re-injured himself. Hell, he might have caught the bad guys and saved themselves the headache of wondering who was after him. Lisette had a good point.
Magic lesson first.
With the potion, salve, and heat treatment, Alric’s injury subsided to a low-grade thrum, something on the level of a minor bruise. He’d wanted to go and check up on Cameron, but Dieter told him Lisette had gone in to speak with him. Alric felt it best to give them space. Instead, he retreated to his study to record every detail he could think of. It may or may not aid them later in finding the men.
Alric’s head came up as he heard the quick knock on the door. People traipsed through his study on a regular basis, and it had gotten to the point he could pinpoint who was about to barge in depending on their footsteps and their knock. The firm, but light stride accompanied by the swish of skirts, the solid no-nonsense rhythm of the knock