“Did she give you enough information that we can confirm?”

If there was a chance… any chance…

“Yes. I don’t know how easily, but she told me plenty to look into it. Names, circumstances, places-”

“Can you remember it all?”

“I wrote down what I could. And I know where to find her if I need to ask.”

If there was a chance…

Ben closed his eyes. He turned away from Jay, back toward the kitchen garden and the path toward the village.

“Pray to Felice we are not making a mistake.”

No one argued. There were plenty of regretful and anxious glances backward, but no one argued.

Because…

If there was a chance…

***

“You will never make a good mage. Or sorcerer.”

Em scowled and folded her arms. It had been almost a week since they’d sent the royal couple away and life had settled back into routine.

She wasn’t liking where this part of the routine was going.

“But this is only the third lesson,” she whined. “How can you be sure I can’t do this?”

Kimball matched her folded arms and kept his face professional.

“First, your chakra receptors are formed strangely. It allows the flow of mana, but has no particular affinity or form. If you were sorcerer material, that would be a good thing. As you are not-”

“Why?”

He sighed, irritated with her interruption.

“You lack concentration and constitution.”

She pressed her pout out further.

“I can learn to concentrate better. And I can improve my constitution, right? Like getting better at running by practice. All mages do that!”

He sighed. Frustrated that he couldn’t find the words to explain to this stubborn child.

“Fine, I will give you that for concentration. But for constitution, it’s not like exercising your stamina. It’s more like your height or hair color.”

“What?”

He picked up the slate they’d been using for her lessons and drew a circle.

“Let’s say this is the shape your mana should create when you do a spell. If you were a sorcerer it would be this,” he created a figure eight, “and a priest this,” he made a triangle.

Em was starting to get it.

“So, my mana flow isn’t making any of the right shapes?”

“Correct.”

“But it's strong?”

“Fairly.”

“Doesn’t that mean I’m something other than a mage, sorcerer, or priest?”

“There is always the possibility of an unknown type of magic user. But being an unknown category, that means I have nothing to teach you beyond infusion. And you have that down just fine.”

Em groaned and sat back in an unladylike slouch.

She pouted.

She already knew she was unique. Healing without pain. A smile quirked grimly at the corner of her mouth. Making her look so much like Flint that Kimball momentarily raised both eyebrows in surprise.

That probably means my ‘unknown category’ is healer, she mused.

It also meant the only way she could get better was by practicing infusion. Regularly.

What was depressing her was the realization that she’d never be able to produce fire balls. She could think of a certain Lady Arnold who needed to have all her hair burned off.

Especially if she ever touched Prince without his permission again.

Asher.

If she ever touched Asher again.

“I’ll let brother Flint know,” she said. Shoulders hunched.

“That is unnecessary, my lady. I can report to the Commander just as well.”

Em looked up with a tired smile.

“But I need to discuss with him my future training and education. Since magic is no longer viable.”

Kimball raised his eyebrow again.

Future training and education? What kind of eleven-year-old thought like that? At least, what kind of noble child thought like that? He could think of many peasants who might. But for them that was a matter of life and death.

Em stood up and gave Kimball a polite bow. Which caused him to scramble up in flustered confusion.

“Thank you, Mister Rune, for trying to teach me. I know you’re very busy.”

“I, yes, miss.”

Em didn’t go to Flint right away. Instead, she wandered the grounds. Kicking dirt clots and rocks whenever she came across them.

Eventually she left the grounds and found herself in front of that huge tree. She glared at it with a determined scowl then pulled herself up.

It took twenty minutes of effort.

By then, she was panting and gasping, and her jaw hurt from gritting her teeth. But finally, finally, she pulled herself onto the nearest branch. For a second, she flopped down on its wide base and stared up at the leaves rustling above her.

Then she laughed!

She’d climbed the tree!

Ecstatic, she sat up and looked around. There were a few trees between her and the edge of the fields around the castle, but otherwise she had an alright view. She could see the wall and her escape route.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

If I can climb a tree, I can do something with my magic. I can practice.

And I can help Asher when it's time.

She smiled and pulled her legs up, hugging them.

“What’re you doing?”

With a yelp, she almost fell out of the tree. A hand grabbed her wrist, and the boy grunted and strained to keep her from falling. Heart pounding, she got a grip on the big branch and settled herself back to safety.

“Don’t do that!” she yelled. “What if I fell?! I could’ve broken my neck!”

The boy turned his head to one side, studying her.

“But you just land on your feet if you fall.”

“Maybe for squirrel Lycan,” she retorted. “But humans land wherever they land.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Oh.”

The boy sat and scratched the back of his head. Very much like a squirrel, even though his tail was almost non-existent and there were neither squirrel ears nor teeth.

“What are you doing up here, then? If you can get hurt?”

Em moved her legs a little, more cautiously than before. And held onto the bark with her fingers, even though her seat was secure again.

A scare will do that to a person.

“Why do you climb trees?”

He scoffed. “Because it's fun.”

“Well, I do because it's fun, too.”

The boy nodded like it was the most logical explanation in the world.

Now that she was calming down, Em looked the boy over. He was here. Voluntarily within arm’s reach of her. Though she could tell he was ready to run away if she made the slightest startling move.

Slowly, she held out a hand.

“I’m Em,” she introduced.

He stared blankly first at her face then at her hand.

“You’re supposed to shake it.”

“Why?”

“It's a greeting.”

“We just bow heads. Or sniff if we’re in our other forms.”

“We can do both.”

Still puzzled, he bowed his head (Em returned the bow), then he grabbed her hand. Instead of shaking up and down, he wrapped his long fingers around her whole hand and wiggled it.

Em laughed.

“Not like that!”

It took a few moments, but he finally got it.

“I’m Todd,” he introduced solemnly.

Em grinned. “I know.”

He grimaced and looked to the side. “Grandma said I should tell you thank you,” he muttered.

Such an unwilling message!

Em grinned and waited.

“I was supposed to as soon as that stupid person left.”

Em shrugged. She didn’t know which ‘stupid person’ Todd meant, but she didn’t press. It didn’t matter.

“Better late than never.”

She kicked her legs harder and watched as Todd inched backward. Apparently ready to bolt now that he’d delivered his message. The silence grew awkward when neither of them could think of anything to say.

“Well, then, goodbye.”

Em giggled as the child rushed down the tree.

This was a good start, right? She kicked her legs more, lifting her face to a ray of sun that burst through onto her seat.

She was in a good mood when she finally knocked on Flint’s door.

There was one good thing about her brother. (Among everything else she admired.) He always made time for her when she came. It caused her some anxiety and was extra careful, making sure she only came when she really needed to.

It also made her feel strange.

Like having a male Maddie around. Except Flint was politer and didn’t smoke.

The thought made Em swallow a laugh as she took a seat and Ralph left. The door made an awful creak when Ralph struggled for a moment to close it all the way. Then silence.

“Has Mister Kimball already talked to you?”

“He sent a report.” Flint folded his fingers together and leaned on his desk. “That makes things difficult.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Em said promptly.

Flint raised an eyebrow, and Em beamed.

“It just means all I can do is healing. But I can get pretty damn good at that.”

Flint’s eyebrow, which had just settled back in place, twitched in a scowl.

“Damn? Emmaline, watch your language.”

“Sorry.” Not at all repentant, she wriggled forward, eyes bright. “It also means all I need to master is infusion, right? The more I do it, the stronger my mana flow, right? So, I just need plenty of opportunities to do healing!”

She beamed.

Flint’s frown deepened.

“Do you expect to find cats with torn paws every day?”

Em scoffed.

“I practically live at a military base. There are probably half a dozen men in the infirmary right now.”

“That will risk exposing you.”

“Well… yes and no.” She held up a finger, to keep him from commenting. “If I work with the apothecary and the surgeon, you know, to learn basic medical stuff, then no one will suspect that I’m also practicing infusing.”

“Except they’ll be healed.”

“Not if I don’t push it until they’re fully healed. Just a little here and there. And sometimes the patient will be unconscious, so they may not know how bad the wound was before. What do you think?”

Flint was silent for a moment. Tapping his fingers against the back of his folded hands as he thought.

“If you help the surgeon, you’ll get even more opportunities…”

“Yes.”

“We’ll have to bring him in on the secret.”

Em nodded.

Flint still didn’t look entirely happy with the plan, so Em stood up and reached over the desk to touch his wrist.

“Practicing at all is a risk of exposure.”

He stared into her dead serious eyes. It was times like this he wondered where the child had gone and who’d replaced her with an adult. Slowly, he moved to grasp her hand.

She was going to make a fine adult.

“I will arrange it.”

Em’s face broke into a smile and she raced around the desk to throw her arms around him.

“Thank you!”

“Your sword fighting lessons start Monday.”

“Ok.”

Awkwardly, he wrapped an arm around her. A small smile curled on his lips.

“You let me know if it's too much.”

“Yes, sir.”

Em left the office with a bounce in her step. Totally forgetting how nervous she’d been when he’d first proposed she practice magic.

It just didn’t matter anymore.

***

Loki didn’t act like it, but he was bored.

bored with existing.

bored with the never ending predictable-ness of the world they watched over.

Other gods were passionate about what they loved (or hated). They could, and did, go on and on and on. Never losing their interest and their forward thrust into their own projects, schemes, and observations.

But not Loki.

The gods got their forms solidified and their insides shaped by their essences, their passions. They long ago became firm, immoveable creatures. Predictable, almost unchangeable at all, by the solidness of their characters.

But not Loki.

His shape changed like waves and his pranks gave him temporary relief from the boredom…

His existence was a never ending drudge.

His lack of desires, permanent connections, and passions made him the one god immune to bribery or negotiation. No pleas could sway him.

Unfortunately.

Back when Felice came to Loki for help, she had had little hope. She didn’t even know what to offer him other than a chance to play around.

But there was no one else she could ask.

No one.

Everyone else had too much skin in the game, too many connections and promises. Aside from her annoying eldest brother who always, always refused to step in when asked. And had a tendency to make decisions that were right, but blindsided everyone involved.

Well, this wasn’t about Helios.

So she had marched up to Loki’s home on the mountain of the gods. Clouds swirling around her legs like disturbing a still lake.

It didn’t occur to her until the entire mess was over that what Loki was doing when she got there should have clued her in.

Someone had gotten to him first.

He was playing a VR video game.