Relentless by Scott Prussing Page A

seemed able to read her mind—no matter where Leesa opened the book when she was looking for a specific spell, the spell she sought would be there. Sometimes, when she wasn’t looking for anything specific, the book would present her with a new spell it either thought Leesa was ready for or that she needed.
    Now and then, though, the pages she opened to would be blank. Dominic had explained that empty pages could mean one of two things: either the spell did not exist, or the book did not think Leesa was ready yet for that particular magic. Leesa had no idea which one applied when she opened her book to a pair of blank pages the morning after the glowing green energy had swirled upward from her belly. She had no doubt that the magic existed—both she and Rave had witnessed it—but it was possible her baby possessed a new type of power unknown to the waziri book, the result of volkaane magic mixing with female waziri magic. It was also possible the book simply felt she wasn’t ready for the knowledge.
    She had tried again every morning for the next week. Each day, more empty pages greeted her. Midway through the second week, though, a new variation of magic energy blasts presented itself when she opened the book. Leesa hadn’t been looking for anything of the sort and didn’t know what use it might be to her, but she trusted the book’s decision to show her this new variation and was doing her best to perfect it.
    Today, she and Rave had returned to one of her favorite practice spots, the clearing in the woods near Higganum with the wide stream flowing next to it. Augmented by two recent storms, the rivulet was flowing fiercely over its rocky bed, almost overflowing its banks as it did so. Cali wasn’t with them this afternoon, but Leesa still smiled every time she saw the small rock Cali had marked with her magic blasts. The surging water almost covered the stone, but she could still see some of the marks Cali’s magic had left behind.
    Her new spell involved firing staccato energy bolts so short and so narrow they were virtually invisible. When she had first attempted it three days ago by firing at a large boulder, she had tried for two hours with no success. She had been about to give up when, on her final attempt, Rave had leaped up off the rock he’d been sitting on.
    “You did it!” he cried.
    Leesa had looked at him dumbfounded. She hadn’t seen a thing, and the surface of the boulder remained unblemished.  “Are you sure?”
    “I saw it,” Rave assured her. “It looked like a dozen miniature stars streaking through the air. Every one of them hit the stone.”
    Leesa had examined the rock again, finding no marks. She trusted that Rave’s volkaane vision had indeed seen something, and guessed that the tiny bolts were too weak to have left a mark. At their present strength the bolts would be of little use, but she trusted that they would grow more powerful with lots of practice.
    The next day, the same thing had happened, until Rave pointed to the smooth trunk of a fallen tree and suggested she aim at a softer surface. Leesa still couldn’t see her bolts, but they left indisputable evidence in the form of tiny pinpricks in the wood. She wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to see the energy blasts—she thought that might be the whole point of them—but seeing tangible results gave her increased confidence as she continued to practice. Her goal for today was to try to bore holes in the harder surface of a rock.
    She chose a large boulder near the edge of the stream as her target so she would be able to get close enough to see if her bolts had penetrated it.
    Standing ten feet from the rock, she held her right palm out toward the stone. The difficulty with this task was similar to the challenges she had experienced when learning the air shield spell—she had to try to visualize something she couldn’t see. She used a similar technique now, picturing tiny glass beads shooting from her hand to the