“Little spell. Easy one,” I called to the mage. “Still figuring this out, and I want my eyebrows.”
Brother Bernard frowned at me. He knew I was one of the best in the class, but he nodded to the mage.
The mage sent a small bolt of fire.
Just as I had practiced, I warped the magic, but rather than dissipating it, I sent it hurtling toward a straw training dummy.
It exploded in flames, and I whopped.
I had done it.
But the look Brother Bernard sent me promised I would be scrubbing pots again that night.