Chapter 8

Also before the day was over, his head ached with the effort of striving to control his power and every muscle in his body hurt from the tension of trying to focus his energies into a beam finer than a silk thread. The academy, for all his mother’s efforts to enroll and keep him there, had taught him next to nothing when it came to real magick.

As the sun sank toward the distant horizon, he sat on the stoop and worried. He was not yet sure Cory would accept him as an apprentice, but he had hopes.4