Chapter 4

The coin hit the workshop floor with a cheerful tinkling noise.

Averet, breathing fast, muttered a few more profanities under his breath, and cradled the fingers of that hand with the other. Redness from summoned lightning, enough of a shock to break them free, stained his skin.

Morgen’s heart lurched. Skewered right through by the magical bolt. “Are you—”

“I’m fine.” Averet sat down slowly on his workbench, though, and did not look at him; neither of those was a good sign. He checked fingers, winced, made a face at them. The red began to fade, though gradually.

Morgen looked at his own hand. Not hurt at all. Because his enchanter had taken the blow of it.

Averet flexed his fingers, testing. He watched the motion, not Morgen. His cheeks remained pink. “So…that’s dangerous.”

“Powerful,” Morgen agreed weakly. “A weapon.”