“So graceful,” Archer murmured. “I always enjoyed watching magicists at work. It always looked a little bit like a dance, no matter what kind of magic they were doing.”
Ridley didn’t respond. Though she’d practiced the movements so many times before coming here that they were now automatic, she’d rather not draw Archer’s attention away from the magic and toward her. No one other than her parents had ever watched her using her own magic. She felt naked and vulnerable. Don’t, she reminded herself. He already knows about your magic. Who cares if he sees what you look like when using it?
The set of movements ended with her nudging the magic toward Archer’s wrist where the plaster cast began, but the book had told her to repeat the set at least three times for each area of injury, so she bega
