The Errant Prince by Sasha L. Miller Page A

Tamsen lead the way toward the wizards' practice hall. The yards, despite the name, weren't an open design. Tall walls cut through the yards, segmenting the space into separate practice rooms to keep each wizard's magic separate. The walls were lined with walkways, from which instructors could view the proceedings without getting in the way of the wizards.
    Tamsen earned a double-take from the wizard at the entrance to the maze of rooms—which Myron snickered at because he was no help at all—but thankfully got no resistance to procuring a room. He led Myron into the maze, heading for the last practice space along the first corridor. He fitted the door charm into the lock, opening the space.
    Myron stepped inside, looking around curiously. The practice space was square and mostly empty. The floor was packed dirt, like the guards' practice yards, and the walls were a thick, heavy stone that had been carved with protection spells that were at least four times as old as Tamsen was. At the far end of the square sat a squat bookcase filled with dozens of small props, mostly scraps collected from throughout the palace, with a disposal bin next to it. Wizard practice sessions were often messy.
    "Shifting is a high-energy spell," Tamsen said, shutting the door behind him. The protection spells hummed quietly, settling back into place. "You'll probably only get a handful of tries today."
    Myron nodded, wondering around the space. He peered curiously at the walls, running a hand over the protection spells. He glanced up, taking in the walkways that ran along the top of the wall. Myron moved confidently, fluidly, as though he carried a sword despite not having it with him. Tamsen watched Myron move, lingering by the door until Myron turned toward him with a smile.
    "So how do we start?" Myron asked. "No cheating, remember."
    "I won't cheat," Tamsen said, rolling his eyes. He wasn't sure whether he'd prefer to win or lose their wager; either way had its benefits. Crossing the yard, Tamsen fetched a small, charred block of wood. "Come over here."
    "Yes, highness," Myron said, a teasing note to his voice. Tamsen scowled at him anyway because it wouldn't do to seem like he was encouraging that behavior.
    Tamsen tossed the block toward the door. It landed a few feet away from it, which would do well enough. "So, three stages. Watch the block."
    Myron turned attentively toward the block. Tamsen focused on it as well, frowning as he pulled up his magic. He wrapped it around the block, scrutinizing the whirlwind of light that swirled up as he deconstructed it.
    "Stage one," Tamsen said. He kept his eyes on the block, not wanting to screw up the spell with an audience—and no barrier to keep the splinters from hitting them. He started the shift, picturing where he wanted the block to go. The light of the spell abruptly disappeared. "Two." It only took the block a few seconds to transfer, and the whirlwind of light reappeared at the spot Tamsen had selected. Tamsen pulled the pieces back together and released the spell, leaving the block on the other side of the area. "Three."
    Myron gave him a skeptical look. "All right, but how did you do that?"
    Tamsen paused, a thought belatedly occurring to him. "Have you ever tapped into the kingdom's power lines?"
    "No," Myron said, his mouth twisting sideways. "Missed that lesson, and none of my other spells needed it."
    "Shifting uses them. There's no way around that," Tamsen said, angry all over again that Myron had been robbed of his chance to learn magic. "So first step is teaching you to find and tap them."
    "My book didn't say anything about that," Myron said. He wrinkled his nose, confused, not doubting. "How do they work for the spell?"
    "The second stage," Tamsen said. He sat on the ground, heedless of his clothing. Myron joined him, settling cross-legged across from Tamsen. "The actual shifting moves along the power lines. Stage one, you deconstruct the item to basic energy. That energy is