Fire Study. Maria Snyder V.

      

      FIRE STUDY

      “You need my permission to exit the Keep,” Roze said.

      “This is my domain. I’m in charge of all magicians, including you, Soulfinder.” Her hands smacked her chair’s arms. “If I had control of the Council, you would be taken to the Keep’s cells to await execution. No good has ever come from a Soulfinder.”

      The other Masters gaped at Roze in shock. She remained incensed. “Just look at our history. Every Soulfinder has craved power. Magical power. Political power. Power over people’s souls. Yelena will be no different. Sure now she plays at being a Liaison and has agreed to my training. It’s only a matter of time.”

      Looking over her shoulder, she gave me a pointed stare.

       Keep out of Sitia’s affairs. And you might be the only Soulfinder in history to live past the age of twenty-five.

      Go take another look at your history books, Roze, I said. The demise of a Soulfinder is always reported along with the death of a Master Magician.

      Roze ignored me as she left the meeting room.

      FIRE

      STUDY

      Maria V. Snyder

      

www.miraink.co.uk

      Also by New York Times bestselling author

      Maria V. Snyder

      Opal Cowan series

      STORM GLASS

      SEA GLASS

      SPY GLASS

      Yelena Zaltana series

      POISON STUDY

      MAGIC STUDY

      FIRE STUDY

      The Insider series

      INSIDE OUT

      OUTSIDE IN

      Avry of Kazan series

      touch of power

      scent of magic

      www.miraink.co.uk

      THE TERRITORY OF IXIA

      To my parents, James and Vincenza,

       for your constant support and encouragement

       in all my endeavours. You sparked the fire.

      ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

      By this time you all should know how wonderful my husband, Rodney, can be. After all, I have thanked him and listed the many ways he supports me in the acknowledgements of my first two books. However, the writing wouldn’t get done and the holes in plot logic wouldn’t get filled without him. So once again, thanks go to him, because I don’t ever want to take him for granted. And thanks also go to my two little sparks who fire my imagination – my children, Luke and Jenna.

      One of the best decisions I’ve made is to attend Seton Hill University’s graduate writing programme. Through this programme, I’ve learned so much and met a talented group of writers. Thanks to them all, and special thanks go to my critique partners, Diana Botsford, Kimberley Howe and Jason Jack Miller, who helped me with this book. Kim, I hope this reads better than the ingredients on a frozen dinner! I would also like to thank my Seton Hill mentor, David Bischoff.

      First drafts of novels can be pretty rough, but my editor, Mary Theresa Hussey, has the knowledge and experience to wade in and guide me to calmer waters. Thanks, Matrice, for all your hard work and the smiley faces on my manuscript. They keep me going!

      Thanks go to Catherine Burke, Selma Leung, Anna Baggaley, and Belinda Mountain for all their help and support in getting the Study series noticed in the UK. The MIRA Books staff in Surrey has been so enthusiastic and great fun to work with – thanks to all!

      Many thanks to Henry Steadman, who did a fantastic job with the cover art for all three Study books. I love them – they are perfect!

      Researching for a book is always fun, and this time I enrolled in a glass-blowing class. My appreciation for glass art rose considerably as I struggled to craft simple items from molten glass. Thanks go to my teacher and glass artist, Helen Tegeler, whose patient instruction not only added to my knowledge of glass for this book, but made the experience a blast.

      And, finally, heartfelt thanks go to my army of Book Commandos! They’re out in the trenches promoting and recommending my books to all who will listen, affixing stickers, and handing out bookmarks. Thanks to my Aunt Bette, whose efforts in the field earned her the rank of General. The Commander would be proud.

      1

      “THAT’S PATHETIC, YELENA,” Dax complained. “An all-powerful Soulfinder who isn’t all-powerful. Where’s the fun in that?” He threw up his long thin arms in mock frustration.

      “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not the one who attached the ‘all-powerful’ to the title.” I pulled a black strand of hair from my eyes. Dax and I had been working on expanding my magical abilities without success. As we practiced on the ground floor of Irys’s Keep tower—well, mine too, since she has given me three floors to use—I tried not to let my own aggravation interfere with the lessons.

      Dax was attempting to teach me how to move objects with magic. He had rearranged the furniture, lined up the plush armchairs in neat rows and turned the couch over on its side with his power. My efforts to restore Irys’s cozy layout and to stop an end table from chasing me failed. Though not from lack of trying—my shirt clung to my sweaty skin.

      A sudden chill shook me. Despite a small fire in the hearth, the rugs and the closed shutters, the living room was icy. The white marble walls, while wonderful during the hot season, sucked all the heat from the air throughout the cold season. I imagined the room’s warmth following the stone’s green veins and escaping outside.

      Dax Greenblade, my friend, tugged his tunic down. Tall and lean, his physique matched a typical Greenblade Clan member. He reminded me of a blade of grass, including a sharp edge—his tongue.

      “Obviously you have no ability to move objects, so let’s try fire. Even a baby can light a fire!” Dax placed a candle on the table.

      “A baby? Now you’re really exaggerating. Again.” A person’s ability to access the power source and perform magic manifested at puberty.

      “Details. Details.” Dax waved a hand as if shooing a fly. “Now concentrate on lighting this candle.”

      I cocked an eyebrow at him. So far, all my efforts on inanimate items were for naught. I could heal my friend’s body, hear his thoughts and even see his soul, but when I reached for a thread of magic and tried to use it to move a chair, nothing happened.

      Dax held up three tan fingers. “Three reasons why you should be able to do this. One, you’re powerful. Two, you’re tenacious. And three, you’ve beat Ferde, the Soulstealer.”

      Who had escaped, and was free to start another soul-stealing spree. “Reminding me of Ferde is helping me how …?”

      “It’s supposed to be a pep talk. Do you want me to list all the heroic deeds you’ve—”

      “No. Let’s get on with the lesson.” The last thing I wanted was to hear Dax recite the latest gossip. The news about my being a Soulfinder had spread through the Magician’s Keep like dandelion seeds carried by a strong wind. And I still couldn’t think about the title without a cringe of doubt, worry and fear touching my heart.

      I