Excerpt: Pride in Exile

The cook started for her, but before she’d gone two steps there was a rumble beneath their feet and a knife catapulted off the bench and into the woman’s thigh. Shock spread across her face and she swayed for a moment before falling heavily to the floor, but Raviel wasn’t sticking around to observe. With a squeal, she threw away the bread and fled into the pantry she’d just left, slamming it shut behind her and sealing it with a touch of her hand and a brief maroon glow. She stood there, trembling, wondering what the cook was doing. It was cowardly, oh yes, to be in here when there hadn’t even been another person to flee from, but if anyone knew black magic it was Raviel, best student in the academy. Black magic wasn’t something she was equipped to deal with, nor did she want to. It was a pity that the cook had fallen victim to such gross use of magical talent, but better her than Raviel.