Knightmare Arcanist (Frith Chronicles Book 1) by Shami Stovall

Author:Shami Stovall [Stovall, Shami]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Capital Station Books
Published: 2019-06-17T16:00:00+00:00

15

Guild Apprentices

The fake rizzel breathed onto the edge of the map table. White and sparkly flames washed over the wood without any heat. Instead of burning the table, the white fire teleported pieces away, but not in large chunks. It teleported tiny fragments away—splintering the wood and scattering it all over the room—in effect, ripping it apart from the inside out, all in a matter of two seconds.

A giant portion had been blasted into the map table, the destruction all around us, punctuated by tiny pops of air, like fireworks. The turtle figurine remained in place, but a mountain was gone, along with Zelfree’s teacup. Bits of porcelain lay intermixed with all the wood.

Nicholin laughed. “Wow! I can do that? I need to flex my magic a little more.”

The fake Nicholin chuckled and waggled a clawed paw. “Not as well as I can. But maybe one day.”

“Hey! I won’t be outdone by an imposter!”

Illia ignored the argument and took a step closer to Zelfree. “What is that?” She pointed to the rizzel on his arm.

“You don’t know?” Zelfree asked with a huff. “I thought the arcanists on the Isle of Ruma valued education before bonding.”

“We know what it is,” Nicholin snapped. Then he swished his tail for a moment and added, “We just… can’t think of it right now.”

Zelfree narrowed his eyes. “This is my eldrin. A mimic. She’s difficult at times. Say hello, Traces.”

The fake rizzel shifted her form again, melting together like clay and then shaping into a feline. The short fur, sleek enough to shimmer, had no markings. She was a pale grey, with a tail three feet in length. Her eyes—one rose, one gold—stared straight at us.

I had read about mimics. They fell into the same category as all other shapeshifting mystical creatures. Most books said they were difficult to comprehend and their magic unwieldy. Doppelgängers could shift into people and copy their magical abilities. Mimics, on the other hand, could become other mystical creatures or inanimate objects, also copying the magical abilities therein.

“You’re not the most impressive bunch,” Traces said, a fine feminine voice that contrasted harshly with her arcanist’s, even if her tone was just as dry and sardonic as Zelfree’s. “Maybe you made the wrong choices, my arcanist.”

I had long grown tired of people talking down to me or thinking I was worthless. I stepped forward, my pulse hot. “You don’t think it’s a little pathetic for a master arcanist to insult his newest apprentices?”

Illia flashed me a bizarre look, but she remained quiet.

Zelfree chuckled. “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have set my expectations so high. Don’t worry, though. I won’t do it again in the future.”

Was he trying to rile me? I knew what a mimic was, but most books William had didn’t include many pictures. All I had for descriptions were ambiguous firsthand accounts. And I would be damned if I did all that studying just for my first mentor to think I was an uneducated island bumpkin!

“Mimics are unique,” I said.

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