Page 141 of First Ritual

The fourth magus, a proven I recalled from the meeting with Sage, answered, “You won us a two-territory mission.”

I pulled a face. “I didn’t. The group did.”

“You convinced Barrow and the team leaders to alter our strategy,” Ruby said. “We were down to the wire in the northeast. We only scraped a 71 percent occupation for our win. That was with the increased attacking percentage you recommended to Sage—that they didn’t completely follow. And remember those four match switches you recommended? Every one of those magus won their fights. If one of them had lost, we wouldn’t have secured the victory.”

I tried not to fidget under the awed gazes of the four magus. “I still don’t consider it my win.”

“We’ll do that for you.” Berry patted my hand. “Challenging the strategy took guts, especially on your first round of Caves. A few of the Vero grimoires hit the books and dug up some info on your mother, grandmother, and grandfather in the game. Let’s just say that you are living up to the family business.”

“There are books on my family?” I asked, a heavy sensation thudding under my ribs.

“They’re regulars in the game highlight records, yeah,” the guy said. “If you’re interested, talk to Spyne. He’s the guy with the really long black hair over by the bread rolls.”

“Thanks. I think I will.”

“Not tonight though,” Ruby said. “Tonight you have plans.”

I met her twinkling gaze. “Oh?”

“You think there won’t be a celebration for a two-territory win?”

“No?”

“No chance.” Ruby banished her empty tray and stood. “The party is out on the knolls after dark. There’s a storm coming in.”

“A rain party,” Berry squealed, then added, “Don’t wear white. Unless you want everyone to see your boobs again.” She covered her mouth. “Sorry.”

Chuckling, I left the table of young magus, and grabbed an apple on the way out.

Before this girl partied, she’d have a bath with a muscle-easing concoction from her healing kit. A party sounded like a good way to stave off a night otherwise spent staring at the ceiling. I’d gotten ten hours last night from sheer exhaustion, but I never slept good twice in a row.

Unless Wild is there.

I entered my cave apartment and kicked the door shut behind me. I glared up at the huge space. “This place is too big.”

The enormous bath, however, was just right.

I dumped the entire contents of my muscle soak into the tub and slid under, not resurfacing until I felt life return to my limbs. I’d pay for the fights but less so for looking after myself.

I perched on the wide edge of the sunken bath to brush out my hair, then dried it with the remaining dredges of my power. Dabbing some color on my lips from dried and powdered pink petals, I left my white hair down and tickling my lower back with its slight wave.

Don’t wear white.

I selected a metallic silver crop top and a black double-layered skirt. The underlayer was a black suede mini skirt, the top layer was tassels of the same suede that ran from the waistband to brush my ankles. Pushing magic down my battle affinity, I added a waterproof layer to my clothing. I fastened on a few ankle bracelets, then chucked on a couple of pendants. Maybe the magus whispering my family’s names were playing on my mind, but I ended up clasping my grandmother’s heavy, silver armband around my bicep. The lightning strike represented the family name. She’d received it from my grandfather, Caradoc, on their union day. For my mother, I drew out a long, delicate necklace she’d often worn, especially on special occasions. Pearls set in white gold. I fastened the necklace, not around my neck, but around my waist left bare between the metallic crop top and waistband of the skirt. I shivered as the cool metal licked my skin. I already had my Syera’s birth pendant on.

I had no idea what the time was, but if a storm was on the way, then outside was where I wished to be.

I ignored the scowls of Fertim magus as I walked through the tunnels and stopped outside Rooke’s door.

She screamed.

I nearly blasted the door to smithereens before the nature of the scream registered. Another scream. Sven’s low, rumbling voice.

I covered my mouth. Mother be.

My lips curved. Guess Rooke was having a party of her own. I cast a silence charm over her door, then ignored more scowls from Fertim players and exchanged smiles with some Vero magus as I left the knolls.

Hot, humid air rolled over me. Ah. The promise and the threat of a storm. The power. I wasn’t afraid to look at it. In storms I found a companion for my turmoil. I welcomed the turbulence like a friend.