âYou need my permission to exit the Keep,â Roze said.
âThis is my domain. Iâm in charge of all magicians, including you, Soulfinder.â Her hands smacked her chairâs arms. âIf I had control of the Council, you would be taken to the Keepâs cells to await execution. No good has ever come from a Soulfinder.â
The other Masters gaped at Roze in shock. She remained incensed. âJust look at our history. Every Soulfinder has craved power. Magical power. Political power. Power over peopleâs souls. Yelena will be no different. Sure now she plays at being a Liaison and has agreed to my training. Itâs only a matter of time.â
Looking over her shoulder, she gave me a pointed stare.
Keep out of Sitiaâs 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.
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www.miraink.co.uk
To my parents, James and Vincenza,
for your constant support and encouragement in all my endeavours. You sparked the fire.
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 wouldnât get done and the holes in plot logic wouldnât get filled without him. So once again, thanks go to him, because I donât ever want to take him for granted. And thanks also go to my two little sparks who fire my imagination â my children, Luke and Jenna.
One of the best decisions Iâve made is to attend Seton Hill Universityâs graduate writing programme. Through this programme, Iâve 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 â 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 â 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! Theyâre 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.
âTHATâS PATHETIC, YELENA,â Dax complained. âAn all-powerful Soulfinder who isnât all-powerful. Whereâs the fun in that?â He threw up his long thin arms in mock frustration.
âSorry to disappoint you, but Iâm not the one who attached the âall-powerfulâ to the title.â 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 Irysâs Keep towerâwell, mine too, since she has given me three floors to useâI 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 Irysâs cozy layout and to stop an end table from chasing me failed. Though not from lack of tryingâmy 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 roomâs warmth following the stoneâs green veins and escaping outside.