Chapter Three
As she sat among the trees, Etta dug her knife into the wood once again, carving out as much as she could. She’d seen her father make their sparring poles many times before. They’d been smooth and light. Hers had jagged edges and oddly shaped ends. She was useless for anything that didn’t involve wielding a sword.
Frustration rose within her and she flung her knife at the nearest tree. Even her aim was off and it landed in a pile of dead leaves.
“You know,” Matteo said as his shadow fell over her. “You could use your fancy new Basile magic to do that.”
Edmund appeared next to her and she pushed to her feet. “What would you know about it?”
It was cruel and she shouldn’t have said it. Matteo was the only Basile in generations with no power of his own. He’d grown up thinkin
