I glared at my twin. “Not funny.” I had said the very same two mornings before, which had led us to that overpass and the bandits in the first place.
He grinned in reply.
Grumbling, I dressed and walked the room, helping to gather the rest of the supplies until we were ready to leave. Alex handed me our breakfast as we exited the inn, the same stale bread as every meal before. I eyed it unhappily. If I never saw a piece of rye again, it would be too soon.
Leading the horses from their stable, I met my twin out front.
The two of us set to checking the fit of our straps and loading the saddlebags. Alex finished much sooner than me. He volunteered to assist, but I refused. Warriors dealt with pain every day, and now that the worst of mine was gone, I was determined to do the same.
Exhaling loudly, my twin mounted his charge, muttering about mule-headed sisters that were too stubborn for their own good.
I finished a couple minutes later, and then swung myself into the saddle, wincing. My body was still sore, but for the most part, a full day and night of rest had done me well. My ribs were only a little bit tender, and most of my wounds had closed. Even the burn on my hand, while still a glistening shade of pink, didn’t sting.
It did itch, unfortunately. But I had enough sense not to scratch it. I’d learned that lesson plenty of times before.
“What I wouldn’t give for some creamed porridge right now,” Alex declared as we started out onto the main road.
My tongue salivated. “Or a honey bun.”
Alex’s stomach roared loudly in accord. The bread hadn’t done very much to slake his hunger. “The first thing I’m going to ask the masters to teach me is how to conjure food—good food.”
I raised a brow. We both knew the Academy only taught war casting. Even if he chose Restoration, they would never waste his lessons on something so silly.
“I look forward to hearing their response.”
Alex chucked the last bit of his roll at me.
Laughing, I managed to catch it and then paused at his somber expression.
“So,” he said, “are you ready to tell me what happened?”
I wasn’t, but I was going to anyway.
I, at least, knew the truth. Alex had only my injuries and his wild imagination to explain them. If our roles had been reversed, I would have insisted as much.
I proceeded to tell him everything.
“That cowardly whelp,” Alex snarled, “he deserved much worse than what he got!”
I cringed, remembering the strange turn of events. They still didn’t make sense even now in retelling. How exactly had Jared caught fire? We had been scuffling close to the fire, but had he really been so senseless to roll his entire body in flame? Alex seemed to assume as much.
Or had the bandit fallen?
But that didn’t make sense. He hadn’t been standing.
In the heat of the moment I hadn’t bothered to question it.
But now I wondered. Was there another explanation for what I’d seen? The others were well enough for Alex—he hadn’t been there. I had though, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was still something missing.
Like magic.
“Ryiah?”
I glanced at my brother. We had been riding in silence for the last couple of minutes. Now he was watching me curiously.
I stared at the grassy plains ahead of us, wondering if I should say the last thought aloud. It seemed too much to hope, and I would be aghast if it weren’t. There had been a couple of times since Alex had found his own powers… but each time I had been wrong, and the disappointment had been crippling.
No. It was better left unsaid.
And then Alex said it anyway: “You think it was magic, don’t you?”
Am I really so obvious? I flushed. “I know how it sounds mad.”
“But it makes more sense than the others.”
“It does!”
He was quiet. Then: “Are you sure about this?”
I played with the reins in my lap. “No. But the man didn’t roll. Or fall. And he wasn’t close enough to the pit for the flames to reach him.”
“But didn’t you lose sight when he hit you?” my brother asked gently. “He could have lost balance when you were unconscious.”
“But I didn’t the second time,” I countered. “I’m not sure exactly how… but instead of darkness I saw light. Lots of it. I—I think it was from the fire, and then he was screaming and running around the camp in flames.”
“Did anything feel different?” my brother pressed. “Were you unusually hot or lightheaded? Did you think of fire?”
“My hand burned, and just about everything hurt…I wasn’t lightheaded exactly, but my head did really ache afterward.” I paused. “And no, I was too angry and afraid to be thinking of anything except what was happening.”
Alex frowned. “That doesn’t sound like a casting, or at least what it’s like for me.”
An idea hit me. “Do you think my pain released the magic?”
Alex appeared thoughtful. “Maybe… but then how is it that it only worked once? He hurt you several times before it occurred.”