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to draw this around you perfectly with no flaws. It will serve to ground the raw magick as you form it into the ritual, and any mistake will kill you. Once you are done with your ritual, it must be carefully undone, or it will kill you. If you step out of the sigil during the ritual, you die. If you pass out from pain or blood loss, you die. If—”

“I get it, Ronan. It’s dangerous. Maybe...maybe I’m not ready.”

Ronan glanced at the symbols, and then back to me.

“Good, because you’re not. I’m starting you at the very beginning, where all young Draklings start. Along with their letters, they learn their sigils. I want you to practice this sigil until you can draw it precisely, even in your sleep.”

Tension bled out of me, and I took the piece of chalk he offered me.

“Touche.”

He stood back, and I got to work.

The next day passed quickly, nearly a blur that was hard to pull exact moments from. I was so exhausted that all I remembered was either drawing sigils, eating fruit, or sleeping with Ronan’s arms around me. Ronan taught me a bit of what he knew, though he easily admitted he didn’t have much affinity with it—Benedict was the most familiar with blood magicks both black and white. The witches were eager to participate, having their own brand of blood magick and lore. Well, most of them were eager. The air witch in charge during Astrid’s absence was the same one who had spoken against me that day in the woods, wanting to immediately turn me over to the demon hordes. Her name was Stella.

“Wouldn’t it be a shame if you twitched the wrong way and blew yourself up?”

The drakens around her hissed, and even the other witches gave her dirty looks.

“Don’t speak that way to Wren! She’s my friend!”

Luci shook a small finger at Stella, and I had to laugh. The little fire witch had taken to spending a lot of time with the fire demon under the volcano, who happily spent hours playing games with her using their own powers. There had been panic and outrage at first, then we quickly realized it kept both enormously powerful creatures happy. I suspected the witches enjoyed having her out of sight and out of mind, her questionable parentage aside. What would happen if the other witches and drakens found out Luci was half-demon?

I put my arms around the small girl and gave her a shaky grin. I knew what would happen—they would throw her aside or kill her. I couldn’t let that happen. Stella sneered, glaring at Luci. She glanced down at my latest attempt at a sigil and scoffed.

“Everyone starts from somewhere, Stella.” Ronan said diplomatically. “My sigils don’t look much better, and I’ve had centuries of work.”

The witch rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

“If it’s so impressive, then have her try some real blood magick. We will watch.”

Ronan opened his mouth to object, but the other witches and drakens paused in what they were doing to turn and watch. I let go of Luci.

“It’s fine. If you think I can handle it, then I wouldn’t mind trying.”

Stella lifted an eyebrow as Ronan cleared a new area and handed me the thick piece of chalk

“Go ahead and trace it first. If you’re still willing after, we can try with blood.

I nodded to Ronan, then sat down in the dirt and closed my eyes, picturing one of the basic sigils in my mind. I opened them and began to draw, ignoring the crowd and Stella’s assessing gaze.

“Don’t screw up. I heard it gets...messy.”

I ignored her, and focused on Luci, who was watching from behind another air witch’s skirts. I finished the last swirl with a flourish, leaning my weight back on my thighs as I wiped my brow. It had taken at least 20 minutes to draw, starting from the center where I was and working my outwards without leaving the circle or touching any of it. Eager to continue, I stood quickly. Too quickly. My cramped muscles spasmed and I fell, hitting the ground face first and ruining the sigil. Chalk and dirt covered my body as Stella burst out laughing. Ronan was there to help me to my feet.

“DON’T LAUGH AT HER!”

Witches screamed and drakens scrambled away as Luci ignited, wreathed in flames of red and black. I pushed Ronan away and reached out to her.

“Luci I’m fine! LUCI!”

I tried to touch her shoulder but was instantly burned, the flames reaching out and wrapping around my wrist. I shrieked in agony; the pain more intense any burn I’d ever received in my life. As a former slave, I’d had many. Ronan reacted on instinct, pushing me behind him and going for Luci. Stella snuffed Luci’s flames out an instant later, and stepped between her and Ronan, putting her hands in front of her. Ronan bashed into a hard, invisible wall. He blinked, then backed down in embarrassment as he realized he almost attacked a child.

“I’m fine! I’m—”

I wasn’t fine. The pain made it hard to speak, and Ronan turned to me with concern on his face. The burn turned my fingers and hand black, the agony unbearable. I didn’t have to look at the injury to know my skin was cracked and bleeding. Ronan shoved his arm under my mouth and I bit down, eagerly awaiting his blood to dull the pain and start the healing process.

Except it didn’t.

I dug my teeth in harder, Ronan wincing as I took more and more. I whined in frustration as the pain only grew, the black flames creeping up my wrist. Ronan pulled away from me and took a predatorial step towards Luci, but Stella held the shield firm.

“FIX HER NOW!”

Luci was crying, hiding behind the other witches. One tried to stay calm, whispering into her ear. A few others wondered out loud if we should get the fire demon. I couldn’t focus on

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