As Ciaran watched, she sketched a symbol, uttered a foreign sound, and then, to his surprise, she drew a needle from the hem of her sleeve, pricked her own finger, and splashed blood through the air.
Water swirled from nowhere and soundly doused the fire, bringing it back to a low, spluttering flame in the circle of stones.
“Well,” she said, “apparently you have the natural talent. Now you just need some refinement.”
“Can I do that?” Ciaran asked. “Summon water as I summon fire?”
“That was no Druid trick,” Brenna said. “Bring your sword, lad. I promised a duel.”
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