of invisible magic flare under my nails, up my arm, cutting through my fear and grief, the feel of it like sparkling sunlight on water, inviting the power into my hands, my fingers, and straight through my lines. My nervous trembling smooths out, the throbbing all over my body cut in half as fire and earth magic sizzle through me. I bite the side of my mouth and flex my fingers, attempting to hide the effect the wood is having on me, feeling as exposed as if I had ten wands sticking out from under my nails.
“You lied to the soldiers,” I say, fighting to ignore the sparks.
Lukas considers this, his brow tightening in thought. “If the Gardnerians find out the Kin Hoang have come for you, they’ll grow suspicious of the power they sense in you. They’d immediately bring you to Vogel.” He looks at my hands, and I self-consciously cease flexing them, realizing how odd the repetitive scratching must seem. And what conclusions he might draw from it.
“You’re Gardnerian, Lukas,” I remind him, taking a chance of feeling out whether he’s still aligned with Gardneria, even though he’s not with Vogel. He’s talking about Gardnerians as if they’re a group he’s firmly on the periphery of, which gives me hope.
But he isn’t listening. He’s watching me, lost in an idea. “I’m going to wandtest you.”
Power again sparks over my fingers like pine branches catching invisible fire. I can feel the entire framework of the carriage all at once, right down to the wheels making contact with rough road. “It’s a waste of time,” I scoff, heart pounding. “I’ve been tested several times.”
Once by my uncle, who quickly discovered that his three-year-old charge was the Black Witch and promptly went into hiding; once at university with a blocked wand; once with Yvan when I burned down a forest. And once by Vu Trin sorceresses who are now intent on killing me.
Lukas’s eyes harden. “Give me your wand hand,” he insists, holding out his own.
“Why?” I curl my hands protectively in my lap, balling them into tight fists to try to douse the sparking power.
Lukas keeps his hand extended, insistent.
I eye his hand, realizing that if I refuse, I’ll inflame his suspicions. Reluctantly, I reach out, filled with the acute sense that I’m rapidly sinking under a deep, inescapable tide.
Lukas takes my wand hand in his and gently pushes up the sleeve of my dress.
My arm is covered in angry bruises from the assassin’s barrage of stars.
“She really wanted to kill you,” he observes, sounding slightly mystified as he turns my arm over for inspection.
“You think so?” I nervously snipe. “I thought she meant it only as a warning. She seemed so half-hearted about it.”
He glances up at me and purses his lips, as if mocking an assassination attempt is in poor taste, then goes back to studying my arm, the wheels of his mind visibly turning.
“I can feel it.” His hand slides around my wrist, his thumb tracing an arc just below my palm. Small sparks trail in the wake of his touch, setting me further on edge. “There’s power just below your skin,” he murmurs. “More than in the past. Much more.”
I pull my wand hand back toward me as I struggle to find a way to withhold the truth. “My uncle wandtested me,” I insist, leaving out the giant explosion part. “I was tested at university. And... I tried out a wand while I was gone. All with the same results. No more testing.”
His brow furrows searchingly. “Are you back as a spy, then?”
“What?” I cough out. “For the same people who’re trying to kill me?”
“You tell me, Elloren.”
“I’m here for protection,” I insist.
Lukas settles back in his seat. “I’d be willing to wager you’re back for more than protection.” His unflinching gaze is formidable. “I think you’re back for information.” He reaches into his tunic, pulls out Chi Nam’s blue rune stone, and holds it up for my inspection.
Panic jolts through me. My hand reflexively slides over my pocket and the blood drains from my face when I find it flat and empty.
Lukas’s mouth turns up in a dark grin. “Did you lose something?”
I don’t know. I’ve never seen it before. It’s not mine. The lying words stick tight to the base of my throat, caught there like fish in a net.
Lukas’s smile inches wider. He tilts his head and holds the stone loosely, his hand resting on his thigh. “Did Chi Nam tell you we’re