The tingles receded as the last of the uncontrollable magic escaped Misa's fingers. With a sigh, she stood and stretched her back. The late afternoon sun left much of the courtyard in the shadows. The days were getting colder, and there was a chill in the breeze that seeped through Misa's sleeves. She shivered and rubbed some warmth into her arms.
When she turned, the guards stiffened. Tarak looked away under the guise of cracking his neck, and Vern, the third guard, began to whistle. Misa frowned. The guards had been acting this way since her daily excursion to the courtyard, and it was beginning to get just a bit irritating.
"What?" she said, narrowing her eyes.
"What do you mean?" Tarak rolled his shoulders. Ullo took a sudden interest in the flowers that had bloomed from Misa's magi
