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and again, slamming barrage after barrage into the far wall until it glistened with melted ice.

It didnā€™t seem to be working. He racked his brain for the part he was missing. Then, it dawned on him: he had to hold the barrage in place to make it a shield. With magic, it was a pull and hold motion, so with his anti-magic, perhaps it would work if he pushed and held.

He forged the ball once more and let the icy tendrils snake up through his arms, before releasing them back outward. Quickly, he held the anti-magic in place by clenching his hands inward and down, instead of turning them up and opening them as if surrendering, like he had seen the magical students do. It held steady, becoming a tangible shield in the air before him, rippling and thrumming with overlapping silver and black as he kept it there. Without an opponent attacking him, he wasnā€™t sure if the shield would hold up in a fight, but it felt good in his handsā€”a strong defense against anything that might want to harm him.

Excited by the progress he had made, he clapped his palms together, the shield disappearing in a flurry of snow around him. Flakes landed on his skin, but he did not feel their cold.

Silently, he thought of Gazeā€™s words. He could do this. He did have the ability. He had just needed some encouragement.

Chapter 15

Alex lay back on his bed, devouring the book on Great Battles Elias had given him. It was full to the brim with intense conflicts and heroic battles that read like the most nail-biting action novels, and yet they were non-fiction; they had actually happened, often to Alexā€™s disbelief. It told of vast numbers charging across battlefields as gold and white met black and silver, as sparks flew and the very air trembled amid the vibrations of clashing energies. It told of Spellbreakers riding through the skies on the backs of mythical winged beasts as the Mage cavalry thundered along the earth, churning up mud and dirt as they sent bolts upward toward the wings of the griffons and Thunderbirds who flew overhead, trying to bring them down to fight at ground level.

There were great warriors in both armies, sometimes locked in single combatā€”a fight to the bitter end, with only one destined to walk away. Some of the fiercest warriors on both sides were terrifying women who fought more ferociously, more boldly than many of their male counterparts. These formidable women called themselves the Howling Valkyries on the Spellbreakersā€™ side and the Gilded Vipers on the Magesā€™ side, and they roared and screamed as they stormed into battle, their powers piercing the air. It made Alex shiver to think of the sound they must have made, curdling the blood of any warrior who heard it.

The image of one Spellbreaker in particular, Kira the Merciless, stuck in his mind because of how the book described her on the battlefield. A savage woman, more demon than Breaker, her eyes burning red as she gazed down upon the sea of blood she had drained from the bodies of two thousand men, struck down by her hand. She stood atop her mountain of flesh and bone and lifted her godless face to the sky, screaming loud for all to hear as she pounded the armor plate on her chest, the sound inciting fear in all who heard. There was no part of her person that was not drenched in the blood and ash of others. In her hands, she held up great clusters of glowing red fronds, far more frightening than any spilt blood, for they were the souls of the departed, their life magic torn from within them and held aloft by Kiraā€™s dark energy. It is said her eyes burnt bright red for all the souls she had stolen.

She sounded horrific to Alex, and yet he knew the Mages had done worse to his kind, knew they had had more vicious wizards and witches than her among their ranks.

The book was different from the ones he had picked up in the library in that it didnā€™t take sides; there was no good versus evil, only Mages versus Spellbreakers, and Alex couldnā€™t get enough. It was addictive, reading the tales of ancient soldiers and their daring feats of life and death. Naturally, he rooted for his side, but he was not without sympathy for the Mages. They had lost big numbers too, in some of the most notorious battles, like the Struggle for Elderā€™s Edge and the Battle of Kingā€™s Rock, but they had never lost as many as the Spellbreakers. Each Spellbreaker victory was met with harrowing deeds beyond the battlefieldā€”the torture and murder of innocents who barely had the strength to put up a fight. Punishing the Spellbreakers for winning with their continued persecution.

Jari had disappeared off to the library, and Alex decided heā€™d like to get Natalieā€™s opinion on a few of the battles he had read within the leather-bound tome, thinking sheā€™d appreciate some of the legends around the Howling Valkyries and the Gilded Vipers, if nothing else. He was curious as to whether she might know anything about the ā€˜great sacrificesā€™ that were mentioned, whether that meant the use of some sort of darker magic, and how that might have been used in battle. If anyone knew about the intricacies of dark magic, it was Natalie.

He got up and made his way through the hallways toward the girlsā€™ dormitories, moving easily through the apparent barrier that had been put up to keep boys away without a female escort. Arriving at number twenty-eight, the brass numbers dulled, he knocked lightly on the wood and waited, the book tucked beneath his sweater to avoid any unwanted attention.

Alexā€™s eyes went wide as Ellabell answered; they hadnā€™t spoken much of late.

ā€œIs Natalie in?ā€ he asked, feeling stupid at his initial surprise. It seemed he had almost forgotten she was Natalieā€™s

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