For the ninth time that week, Sedgewick Alverdyne struggled to refrain from strangling his idiotic underling.
Curse his father's connections, he thought, ignoring the inferior mage's rambling excuses.
"We were vastly outnumbered," Master Tyrinn continued, waving his green pointed hat in an attempt to emphasize the overwhelming odds. "And they came at us from everywhere, so we were forced—"
"No more excuses!" Sedgewick shouted, instantly silencing the mage. "You were better-trained than they were, Tyrinn! You had the equipment for this—gates, you even had the element of surprise and you still failed!"
Sedgewick smacked Tyrinn's disgrace of a report on his desk and rose from his chair. His face flushed as deep a red as his hair and the need for a stiff drink coursed through him.
He sighed and adjusted his round glasses before continuing. "It was a simple witches' guild. Not a wizard, not a sorceress, a witches' guild. And yet your team couldn't even handle that." Sedgewick glanced at Tyrinn. The other mage's mouth remained shut and taut over his shorter superior's obvious insults toward his skill and intelligence. Good. If Tyrinn was angry, he might be motivated to try harder. Honestly, what did the man expected him to do? Give him a pat on the back and a "you'll get 'em next time"?
Sedgewick reclined back into his chair. He stared up at the decorative spell runes carved into the dark wooden ceiling and released a sigh like a father tired of his child's incompetence. "Since you are obviously incapable of dealing with this, I'll simply have to handle it later—personally." He turned his attention to the next report and gestured toward the door. The handle glowed orange with his magic as it swung open. "Now go find something marginally useful to do. You're dismissed."
Tyrinn slowly placed his hat on his head, his fingers tightening over the rim just slightly. "Yes, Master Alverdyne."
"And Tyrinn?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Try not to mess it up."
The door slammed. Sedgewick relaxed back into his seat and allowed himself a satisfied smile before he returned to his work. Hellgates take Tyrinn. His next meeting with Abreyla's queen, Eleyna, was coming up soon and he could already hear the critical remarks her king-consort would make.
Rising from his chair, Sedgewick stalked across his office to one of the shelves lined against the side of the wall. The shelves went a good ten feet up, but Sedgewick simply summoned his inner magic essence to the surface of his hand and reached forward. The orange glow of his magic lit up around a map on the top shelf and levitated it down into his grasp.
He waved his hand over a few books sitting on the table underneath the tall window looking out into the palace's inner courtyard. They floated onto his assistant's desk for her to take back to the palace library later. Spreading the map of the capital across the desk, Sedgewick leaned over it and scoured the carefully marked districts for the most likely location of the witches.
Witches Tyrinn should have already taken care of, he thought, despite his best attempts to focus.
Sedgewick rubbed his temple. Gates, what he wouldn't give for a chance to run down to the training area and sling spells until the tension lifted. There wasn't enough time for that but...
He summoned an essence flare in his hand. The familiar comfort of his magic rushed to the surface of his skin, eager to be molded into whatever spell he devised. It coalesced into an orange glowing sphere in the palm of his hand. Sedgewick grinned and flung his hand forward.
The sphere shot off and zipped around the room. Instead of letting it go and burn through his bookshelves, Sedgewick kept a grip on it with a thin, near-invisible orange line of magic. He stepped away from the table and spun the orb of magic around the room like a ball on a string. The tension in his shoulders uncoiled as he re-centered himself. Sedgewick Alverdyne, Master Mage. He and his magic could manage a set back from his idiotic undermage.
Spinning the essence flare around the room once more for good measure, Sedgewick moved to recall the spell to his hand and reabsorb the magical energy.
The door to his office sprung open. Sedgewick flicked his hand up sharply, dismissing the spell while it was still a good two feet from his assistant's face.
Said assistant, Feyla Everbloom, jerked back in surprise, sending some of his third cup of coffee she'd been fetching onto the office floor. "Sedgewick!" Feyla snapped, her tawny-brown skin flushed with surprise. "I need more time off if you're going to be giving me heart attacks like that."
Sedgewick bristled at the implication. "Please. I'm not some half-trained apprentice. I have utter control over my magic. You wouldn't have been hurt." To demonstrate that fact, Sedgewick summoned a new spell to his hand, this time a harmless ball of orange light. It spun around Feyla before bumping gently against her honey-gold hair, making one of her long, pointed ears appear to glow.
Feyla smiled at the small ball of light like it was a friendly little bird. "You know, if I focus just right, I can almost hear it giving your apology." She twitched her ear like she'd heard something and grinned wickedly.
Rolling his eyes, Sedgewick recalled the spell. He spread out his open palm and sucked the remaining magical energy back in. An unnecessary step, given a mage of his caliber could easily replenish the lost energy, but one never wanted to get out of practice.
Feyla stepped around the spill as they both made their way over to his desk. "I ran into Tyrinn in the halls," she said.
"Licking his wounds, I'm sure," he replied, pushing aside Tyrinn's disappointment of a report.
Feyla set the remains of his coffee on his desk as her teal eyes soften while she glanced toward the door. "You shouldn't be so hard on him; I'm sure he was trying his best."
"His 'best' obviously wasn't good enough," Sedgewick grumbled, picking up his perfectly flavored coffee. "The last thing I need is another witches' guild running around and making mischief. If Tyrinn wants to be coddled over his utter failure, then he should have chosen a different occupation. There's no room for failure in my department."
Feyla sighed and shook her head. This was an old argument of theirs. She gathered up the discarded report and a growing mound of sloppy pushed aside ley-line charts and reference books. "Giving someone a little encouragement isn't going to kill you." She shifted the pile of papers to one of her shapely hips. "Trust me, I'm a former battle healer."
He chuckled softly and took a sip. "I suppose I'll have to trust your expertise. And speaking of expertise—" He set the cup down and flicked a finger toward Feyla's stack, sending the discarded report back to his hand, "I now have to decide—"
"Sedgewick!" Feyla cried as the loss of the one report upset the other papers.
Sedgewick jumped from his seat. "Gates," he cursed, falling to his knees.
Feyla rushed to join him. "Watch your language," she said, smacking him on the arm and giving him a glare.
He returned her glare with one of his own—the type that would make his subordinates cringe.
Feyla just smiled and tucked a loose strand of that golden hair behind her ear before stacking the books and papers scattered across the tiled floor.
Pity she'd worn it up. It framed her heart-shaped face so much better when she wore it all loose and flowy and—
Sedgewick shoved the thought away. He had no need for opinions on Feyla's appearance. Grabbing the last book, he hastily rose to his feet.
And immediately regretted the action as a sharp spike of pain shot through his back like an errant spell. Wiping the grimace off his face, Sedgewick turned toward his desk and began busying himself with the books and papers.
Feyla wasn't fooled. "You know, I could always—"
"I'm fine," he said, adjusting his glasses and looking anywhere but at her.
She reached toward him. "Sedgewick, please I—"
"I said I'm fine!"
Feyla jerked her hand back as if stung.
He sighed and placed his hands on the hardwood desk. "...Sorry."
She stepped closer and rested her hand on his arm. He steeled himself against flinching and raised his eyes to meet hers. They stayed that way for several seconds. He should probably say something but knowing Feyla, he wouldn't need to.
As predicted, Feyla smiled weakly and removed her hand. "It's all right."
Sedgewick let out a breath. Spells weren't the only thing he knew how to read.
"I just worry about you, you know?"
His defenses rose like a war-time barricade. Clenching his hands, he pushed away from the desk. "Don't."Sedgewick made his way back to the table by the window and stared down at his map, collecting himself into the picture of disinterest."I was fine long before I met you, and I will continue to be fine long after you've left. The only concern that you, Miss Everbloom, should have about me is the state of my coffee cup, which I might add, is still half empty."
The silence was almost palpable. He could practically feel her stare drilling into the back of his neck, just as his own scowl was focused so hard on the map that it was a wonder it didn't spontaneously combust. Clenching the edge of the table, he kept staring until the clink of a cup and the shut of a door signaled that he was safe. Sedgewick let his shoulders sag and finally rubbed his aching back. Had he been out of line? Feyla had always had a bleeding heart; it was one of the traits that had drawn him—
No. Sedgewick inhaled sharply and closed his eyes. I don't need her pity. But his eyes still wandered from his own desk to her smaller one in the corner.
Unlike his own, Feyla's desk was neatly stacked with various reports and papers, not a pen out of place. The small vase he'd given her, its glass her favorite shade of pink, held a cheerful and brightened up the whole corner. Usually, she would be doing the same.
Giving an exhausted sigh, Sedgewick leaned against the table. He'd have to make it up to her later. Maybe they could see another play or something. She liked them, and he enjoyed going when he had the time.
Levitating over the report that had started this whole mess, Sedgewick pushed the incident out of his mind. Now, where should I hunt those vermin down...