Chapter Nineteen

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Graydon knocked on Naena's door during the study hours. Bo answered the door and tried to turn him away. All Graydon had to do was raise an eyebrow, and the second-year almost pissed himself in fear.

He entered, and Bo scrambled to collect his books, leaving the room as Naena sighed on the bed, facing the wall and curled into a ball.

"I have a potion," he said. "You will take it."

Naena rolled on the bed and couldn't even muster the energy to scowl at him.

"Theon is in pain," Graydon explained. "I know he's syphoning off your pain because he never complains about his own. I also have a spell I'm going to teach you that I want you to ask him to tattoo on you."

"Why?" she asked.

"It helps you control the level of pain you feel—to a point. He has one like it and has done the work on himself, so he'll give you clean lines. He's not supposed to suggest you put ink into your skin, it's a very personal decision he says."

"And why would I do any of that?" Naena countered.

Graydon pulled the little vial from his pocket and held it out to her.

"Because I am heir to the Seven Families and I said so," he responded. "Submission, Naena. I'm not asking for you on your knees, I know better. I'm asking you to trust me and do as I say because I am looking out for your best interest. So, take the potion."

She reached out and took the potion, eyeing the blackened liquid as one might have a poison.

"Little nightshade mixed with your magic could do the same thing, but mixing pure magic into a powdered item is something that you need years of training to perfect," Graydon said.

He slipped his hands into his pockets and waited expectantly.

Naena glowered over the vial at him, but she opened it and tilted her head back, downing the potion without anymore question.

Graydon made a little sound and moved to her desk. He took a piece of paper from her desk and drew out the spell, making certain to avoid the personal flourishes he knew Theon would recognize. Naena joined him a moment later, appearing much more like herself.

"It'll last twenty-four hours," he said. "I think the pain should be more manageable by then, less intrusive at the very least. Now, this here is the base of the spell. Every mage adds flourishes which arise during education, that's trained into you and is sort of like your signature."

"You can tell who wrote a spell by looking at it?"

"Yes."

"But why not just see who is linked to the magic involved?" she countered.

"Most mages can't see that, so I'd suggest not bringing it up until you're a little more educated," he said. "That way you can learn the terms they would use to describe magic, and it'll be more convincing, but still, keep tracking magic. If you lose the ability to see it, you'll very likely never get it back again."

"Fine," Naena growled. "But these flourishes sound like a signature, signatures can be forged."

"Yes, they can," Graydon said. "And non-mages can have spell signatures. I have one, which is why we're going to go over every symbol on here and I'm going to explain the use of each one. Then you do whatever it is that you do to make things weird."

Naena made a sound.

What followed was an hour of teaching Naena a spell. She picked up on the symbols rather quickly, though her hand was shaky at best. When she finally managed something Graydon was satisfied with, she seemed quite pleased with herself.

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