Page 43 of Avalon Tower

I stop the thought before it goes any further.

I glance up at his silver eyes, and for a moment, it feels like he can read every one of my secrets.

I yank my arm away. “I’m fine. I don’t need your magic.”

“Your expression says otherwise.” He draws back.

“Okay.”

“You’re obviously in pain. I can read it easily in your grimace. Are you aware that your words are often at odds with your body language?”

I tense. “What are you talking about?”

“And now you look like you want to kill me.”

“I’m perfectly calm,” I say through clenched teeth.

“You tell everyone what they want to hear. It’s not the worst skill for a spy. You’re good at knowing what people want you to say. Your language is curious and relaxed with Tana. You reassure Serana and help her stay organized. With Darius, you flatter him because his insecurity demands it. You interpret what people need, and you give it to them. That’s good. But you will need to control your facial expressions in order to be convincing, be aware of your emotions and master them.”

Surprise flickers through me. “You’ve been watching me awful closely, it seems.”

“It’s my job to watch my cadets. I’d imagine that when you’re with your mother, there was yet another version of Nia, wasn’t there?”

My nostrils flare. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“With your mother, you are more accommodating. You assure her that you’ll take care of her. You’re the parent. You never argue, but can she see how much you resent her deep down? That you’re tired of being someone who picks up the pieces of her chaotic life and tries to put them back together?”

“Can we go back to training?” I say acidly.

He leans back in his chair. “This is training. Emotions get in the way of your concentration and disrupt your magic. Besides, in any situation undercover, you will need to understand yourself and control your emotions. You don’t want the Fey to know what you’re thinking. You need to be aware of what you’re conveying to people. Understand your true self, then hide it from the world so it can’t be used against you. And once you understand yourself, you can also master your emotions.” He sighs. “Okay. Let’s back up. When you entered the veil with the fugitives, what were you thinking?

“I was scared.”

“Okay, but it seems like you were able to suppress your fear enough to summon your magic. Try to close your eyes and remember that moment. Did you sense your magic as you went into the veil?”

I shut my eyes and try to remember, recalling the fear and sorrow. My chest tightens. “No. I mostly felt fear. And regret. I was trying to look after the fugitives, and I missed Vena running away. The patrol was about to grab us, and I already saw what they’d do if they caught us. They were so brutal, and I was frightened of them.”

“And you don’t remember feeling a connection to magic?”

“Not at that moment.”

Rage—when I think of the Fey hunting down little barefoot Malo, I feel a stab of rage.

When I open my eyes, the hum is gone, the prickling on my arms has faded, and my chest is flushed.

I stare at the box. The veil is still there, but its power is gone. I lean forward, bracing myself for pain, but my fingers easily pass through the mist. I grab the ball.

My hand still in the box, I look up at Raphael for his reaction.

Just as a smile ghosts over his lips, a torrent of agony blazes through me. I yell, releasing my grip, and drop the ball. It crashes to the floor. In the next heartbeat, my hands are in his, and his magic is whispering over my skin, sending heat pulsing through my muscles. My heart races, and I let out a long, shaky breath. “Thanks.”

His eyebrows lift. “It was a good start.”

I pull my hands free and hug myself. I shiver, chilled to the bone, and my teeth start to chatter. It feels as if the cold is biting at my skin. “Why is it so cold here?” I glance at the fireplace, where the flames are still blazing.

“Using your magic drains energy from your body very rapidly,” Raphael says. “That means it steals your body heat. Didn’t it happen last time you used your powers?”

Thinking back, I vaguely remember the icy wind, the sharp drop in temperature. “Yes, it did, actually.”