“Yeah, well, that depends on your definition of ‘help’.” My lips thinned as I recalled how Rylan had attempted to ‘help’ me, by getting a witch to cast a spell that made me forget to warn Iannis about an impending ambush. Anger ignited in my chest, and I took a deep breath and exhaled through my nostrils to expel it. He wasn’t worth getting angry over.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Lakin asked warily.

I shook my head. “Nothing worth mentioning.” I checked my watch, wondering if I had time to get over to Prison Isle. “Crap, my magic lesson starts in an hour. I’d better get going.”

“All right.” Lakin looked a little disappointed that I was cutting my visit so short, but he smiled as he walked me to the door. “I’ve got to check in with Chieftain Baine soon anyway. She’ll have orders for me, depending on what was decided at the council meeting.”

“Oh, yeah.” I hesitated at the doorstep, wondering if I should ask him to tell Mafiela I’d called. But I’d already asked Melantha to do it, and I didn’t want to seem desperate. Mafiela would be curious enough about my invitation to answer, anyway. All I had to do was wait.

5

I reached the training room before Iannis, which wasn’t surprising. He was ridiculously overburdened, dealing with the aftermath of what the people were beginning to refer to as the Uprising. There were prisoners to sentence, structures to rebuild, jobs to fill, agreements to hash out. It was a wonder he managed to make time for our lessons at all.

Following my usual routine, I sat cross-legged in the middle of the wooden floor, closed my eyes, and practiced a breathing drill Roanas had taught me. The breathing drill might have been a martial arts exercise, but its ability to help one focus and maintain calm had endless application. Control over one’s emotions was essential when practicing magic—a flare-up of anger or a lapse of concentration at the wrong time could have disastrous consequences. Today had been particularly emotional, and I did my best to breathe it all out so I would be ready when Iannis arrived.

Footsteps and murmured voices drifted through the crack beneath the door, and I tuned them out so I could focus. But the moment Iannis’s sandalwood scent reached me, my heart jumped in my chest. I took in a deeper breath than was strictly necessary, listening to the distinctive sound of his approaching footfalls, but kept my eyes closed as the door swung open.

“Hello.” His sexy, slightly musical accent turned the greeting into a caress that slid along my spine like a silken scarf.