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“Yes,” said Reka slowly. “I do recall you saying that.”

“Well?” Heath couldn’t help being impatient at the dragon’s unhurried pace. “Did you sense power?”

“I sensed yours,” Reka said maddeningly. “And your brother’s less potent magic.”

“But from the others?” Heath insisted.

Reka’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Let me recall it properly.” He closed his eyes, and Heath actually felt a tendril of magic swirl out from the dragon and wrap itself around his enormous, scaled head.

“What was that?” Heath demanded. “What are you doing?”

“I’m using my magic to form a true recollection,” Reka said, his eyes still narrowed, and his focus apparently undisturbed. “It is an ability of my kind, not entirely dissimilar to farsight. I can reconstruct the event so as to be accurate in every particular.”

“That’s amazing,” said Heath. “And so handy.”

“Indeed,” Reka agreed gravely. He opened his eyes fully, giving off a faint hint of surprise. “You are correct,” he said. “There does appear to have been some power lingering around the attackers. Not a large amount. Perhaps their magic is weak, or perhaps not all of them carry it.”

“What does that mean?” Heath demanded.

“That, my recollection cannot confirm,” Reka said, clearly unperturbed by the question. “It is curious, however,” he added after a thoughtful pause. “I would not have expected you to identify it at the time when I did not. It suggests a level of finesse in your ability to detect power which I would not expect from a human your age.”

Heath rubbed his hands over his face. “Much good it does me,” he muttered.

He was confident the power he’d felt hadn’t been the familiar signature of any member of his Valorian family. He could think of no course but to search for the culprits among the family tree of Kyonan power-wielders, and the thought wasn’t appealing in the least.

“Did you wish only to discuss this matter?” Reka asked him. “Or did you call me here in the hope of further training?”

“Training, definitely,” Heath said firmly. If Percival was using training to take his mind off Laura’s situation, Heath could see no reason why he couldn’t do the same.

As his thoughts flew to his sister, his power unintentionally followed. Clearly his investment in her well-being was higher than ever, because her image popped immediately into his mind, clear as day.

“Dragon’s flame,” he muttered, shutting it off instantly. She’d seemed to be in a great deal of pain, and that wasn’t something he had any desire to witness. Plus she’d been very clear on her feelings about her brothers being present for the event.

“Let’s start the training right now,” he said fervently. “I’ve been following Merletta with my farsight since we last spoke. But not much else.”

He directed his farsight down its most familiar channel, and his mind instantly gained access to Merletta’s current situation. He realized with a gasp that he’d lost track of the days. She was swimming through shallow water, wearing the light expression that meant she’d temporarily left the burdens of her underwater life behind.

“Change of plan,” said Heath hastily, his heart soaring at the prospect of spending the day with Merletta. “Can we go to Vazula?”

Chapter Twelve

Merletta twisted and spun as she glided through the water, eager to reach the island. It had been a long week, full of frustrating instances of Ibsen’s determination to prevent her from learning enough to have a hope of passing third year. It was such a relief to be outside the triple kingdoms again, on her way to her island haven.

Not that it was quite the haven it had once been, she reflected as she beached herself a short time later to cries of greeting from Paul and Griffin. She smiled as she walked up the beach toward where they were sitting, the sand squelching pleasantly between her bare toes.

“How was your week?” she asked them. Glancing around, she added, “Where’s August?”

“He’s hunting,” said Paul. He chuckled. “He offered to hunt for us all. He’s been so cheerful since Eloise started visiting that I hardly recognize him.”

“I’m glad,” Merletta said with a smile. Her eyes narrowed. “But don’t think you can get away with lounging around just because he’s foraging for you. I want to see your progress with your running.”

Paul groaned, but Griffin jumped to his feet at once. “I’ve got it more or less figured out, I reckon,” he said, squaring his shoulders. “Let me show you.”

He jogged across the beach under Merletta’s critical eye, sand flying from his feet.

“Not bad,” she said. “But you’ll have greater success if you use your arms more. Let me show you.”

An hour later, she was still so engrossed in the training session that she almost missed the rushing sound that had failed to appear the previous few rest days.


Tags: Deborah Grace White The Vazula Chronicles Fantasy