Wildas had given Coulta several books of history and he was studying one of them late the next morning when a knock came on his door. Opening it, he found a member of the Royal Guard standing in the hallway.

"I've been told to escort you to the sparring field."

Coulta was a little confused, but pulled on his sword belt and followed the man without question.

"The Crown Prince and Prince-General Rohan arranged for you to have some practice," the man explained as they walked, despite Coulta's lack of questions. "The best swordmaster in all Phelin is waiting to test you."

The man seemed a little too amused for Coulta's taste. Apparently, this was to be some sort of joke. At least to the Guardsmen.

When they arrived at the sand arena near the barracks, Coulta was convinced that there really was a joke going on. In the arena was only one person, a woman dressed in fighting leathers and wearing a sword belt. She was dressed as any male soldier he had seen, but her face was clearly feminine.

"The best swordmistress in Phelin, I should have said," Coulta's escort corrected with a grin. "Go on, she's been waiting."

There was a small group of people watching from outside the arena, and among them Coulta spotted Wildas, who gave him a smile. Rohan entered the arena and stood beside Coulta and the woman.

"There are only two rules for this fight," Rohan explained. "Don't kill your opponent, and the fight is over when the first person drops his weapon. And, it's not a rule, but try not to cause any serious injuries. Neither of you are using blunted blades." He gave Coulta a pointed look, and Coulta nodded.

Coulta's opponent raised her sword to salute the Prince-General, and Coulta copied the movement. Rohan gave them a nod and left the arena to join the small crowd.

"Have at it!"

The first thing Coulta noticed was that his opponent was quick – so quick that he had barely ended his salute to Rohan before he had to block a sword thrust. He managed to do so, barely, then spun away to make an attack of his own that was easily blocked.

"Don't be afraid to fight with all your tricks!" he heard one of the princes call out.

A grim smile came to Coulta's lips. If they wanted a show, he would give them one. He threw every trick he knew at the soldier, who somehow managed to evade or block most of the moves. He did manage to put a slice in her leather shoulder guard – after he had gotten a hard whack on the back from the flat of her blade.

They were both sweating and panting by the time he managed to trip her with a well-placed foot. She went down face-first, sprawled in the arena dirt with her sword several inches away.

"That's a win for the guest!" Wildas yelled from the other side of the fence.

Only then did Coulta look up to where the princes had been watching. Several others were gathered there as well, including Myri, and a few well-dressed teens who were likely other princes and princesses, along with some men and women in the red uniform of the Royal Guard and gray garb of the regular army.

Coulta suddenly felt very self-conscious and sheathed his sword before helping his opponent up from the ground. She spat arena dirt but gave him a smile, and the got a good look at her for the first time. Her chestnut hair had a few strands of gray in it and her face was somewhat lined with age, but her eyes were bright as she looked at him and offered him her hand.

"Good fight."

Coulta nodded. "You, as well."

Wildas was smiling when he joined them. "I told you she was one of the best warriors in the Guard. Coulta, meet Queen Yvona."

Startled, Coulta took a step back to bow to her. "It's an honor to fight you, Your Highness." He'd just sent a queen into the dirt. It suddenly occurred to him just how rude that was.

She smiled. "It is an honor to fight you, my son's protector." Her eyes moved past him, then returned to his when she grasped his shoulder. "Welcome to Ryal," she said before stepping away.

Looking behind him, Coulta saw Second King Shelton approaching and bowed to him. The sorcerer smiled. "Have you ever had a practice magic duel?"

Coulta shook his head. "I've barely used my magic for fighting before the night I left Arren. I knew no other people with magic, either."

Shelton nodded. "Would you like to try your magic in a duel against me? We'll test your skills and see if there is anything I can do to help you master them."

"I don't know what I can control," Coulta admitted with unease. "Is that wise?"

Shelton smiled. "Of course not, but what other way is there?"

Coulta relented. "What do I do?"

"The rules of a magic duel are just as simple as a sword duel," Shelton explained, his voice loud enough for the crowd around them to hear. "We can throw whatever magic we want at each other, but we cannot seriously injure or kill one another. Minor injuries are expected, but anything serious is not. We are testing your magic. Just do what feels the most useful to attack or defend."

He took his place at the other end of the arena and nodded to Coulta, who nodded back. Almost immediately a streak of violet light was coming straight at Coulta. Raising one hand, Coulta hoped to brush it aside like he would an insect, but the light hardly faltered. Coulta had just enough time to put his other hand in front of his chest and imagine a large shield in his mind before the light hit him. The violet light split into a hundred tiny sparks and vanished against the black-and-silver wall of light Coulta had produced.

Coulta didn't even have time to be relieved about stopping the attack before the sensation of heavy wind pushed his legs out from under him.

"Be alert for more than one attack coming at once," Shelton advised as Coulta climbed to his feet. "And think quickly. A real fight will not be slow."

Coulta nodded and braced for another attack. How was he supposed to fight back when he didn't know if he could keep any of his attacks from killing Shelton?

The sand in front him shifted and he saw something moving toward him beneath the surface. Coulta's first thought was to jump away from it, but instead he dropped to a crouch and shoved his hands into the sand. The movement abruptly went back in the opposite direction. Directly in front of Shelton's feet the ground erupted, pelting Shelton with grains of sand as something shot up into the air.

Coulta was stunned to see what appeared to be a very small dragon made of violet light spread its wings and soar toward him. Raising both hands, Coulta focused on the dragon, surrounding it with black-and-silver light that stopped the illusion in midair. At that moment he saw another movement in the sand, much larger this time. Still crouching, Coulta stuck his hands back into the sand and sent out more energy than before.

The sand erupted in the center of the arena and another, larger, violet dragon emerged surrounded in black-and-silver light. It took Coulta a moment to realize that his light was actually another dragon locked in battle with the violet one. Both were the same size and identical except for the color. Shelton's was solid violet while Coulta's was black with glowing silver markings like vines all over its scales. Coulta recognized those marks and quickly glanced at his own skin, thankful to find that his natural appearance was still obscured.

He glanced at Shelton and saw him staring in awe at the two battling dragons. Raising a hand, Shelton uttered a single word and his dragon vanished. Coulta sent his flying toward the other end of the arena with a thought, but it was vanquished by a wall of violet light.

Shelton motioned Coulta to his feet and Coulta obeyed, though he didn't bother to wipe the sand from his hands. He had only just stood when a ball of violet fire sped past him close enough to burn the shoulder of his black shirt. The shirt didn't catch, but a charred hole the width of his finger revealed red skin. Apparently Shelton meant it when he said minor injuries were expected.

He looked away from his shoulder just in time to put up a hand and stop another ball of fire, his hand surrounded by black tendrils of magical protection he hadn't even thought of. He hurled the ball back at Shelton, only mildly surprised to see that the violet was mixed with black as it flew across the arena. Shelton blocked it easily, then sent the arena sand swirling in a storm of wind straight for Coulta.

It surrounded him, making it impossible to see what was coming, and he couldn't figure out how to clear it away. A wave of energy slammed into him, knocking him over onto his back. The sand dropped from the air and Coulta managed to keep it from covering him. As he turned to push himself to his feet, he realized how completely exhausted he was. The duel with Yvona had tired him already. Now, using his magic so much when he had scarcely used it before was draining what energy he had left. And his shoulder ached.

He weakly pushed up into a crouch, but was too afraid of fainting to stand yet.

"You haven't used this much before, have you?" Shelton questioned, still in position.

Coulta shook his head. "No," he replied hoarsely, finally forcing himself to his feet.

"We don't need to continue," Shelton told him, voice serious. "You are not used to wielding so much power in so short a span of time. You already have impressive control, but you need to build your strength for channeling the power."

Coulta was certain Shelton surely knew what he was talking about if he was as powerful as everyone said he was. "I yield," he declared with a nod, before sinking back to the sand to sit.

Shelton came over and crouched beside him. "By the gods, I have never seen anything like you. No one I have ever used that dragon spell with has been able to completely counter it like that. It's a spell I created myself. I don't understand how you knew it."

"I didn't use a spell," Coulta tried to explain. "I just thought about fighting back your power, and let the magic do what it would."

Shelton shook his head. "Not even a single word of power?"

"I don't know what you mean. Unless I can use words without thinking. Most of the time I just think of what I want to do and the magic does it."

Wildas knelt down beside them and handed Coulta a cup filled with water. Coulta took it with a word of thanks, and drained it in seconds.

"Did you learn anything?" Wildas asked, looking at Shelton.

"Only that I have met the greatest mystery of my lifetime," Shelton replied, still looking only at Coulta. "I have an associate who has made a study of curse magic. She should be returning to Ryal in the next few days. When she does, I'd like you to meet her."

Coulta nodded. "I would like answers."

Shelton patted his unburned shoulder. "We'll find some. And you should see the healers about your arm. I didn't mean to nick you with that ball."

"It's all right," Coulta assured him.

"I think we should have regular duels," Shelton added. "It would help you increase your strength. I'm sure many of the soldiers and Guardsmen would be happy to spar with you anytime, as well."

Coulta nodded. "I would like that. Both of those."

Shelton smiled. "Meet me here every third morning and we can work before Wildas needs you."

Coulta agreed, and after Shelton left, allowed Wildas help him stand, a little embarrassed that the Crown Prince was helping him.

"Let's get you to Myri," Wildas suggested. "Then maybe you should have a bath."

Coulta forced a smile and was glad to know he could walk unaided. "I can't be keeping you company if I smell, I take it."

Wildas grinned. "Can't have me looking bad," he said, though it seemed like he was mostly teasing.

"Of course not," Coulta replied, smiling easier.