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a few m urmured words, and I saw Shani startle for a moment as she bumped into an invisible barrier.
    She dispersed it with a simple counterspell, pursing her lips at Mior. “That was hardly a challenge,” she said reproachfully. “Surely you can do better than that?”
    Mior grinned and raised his hand, but then Zashter spoke. “He can, but he won’t. Not right now.” He met his brother’s defiant stare and shook his head emphatically. “We’re travelling, and we can’t afford for the two of you to drain your energy by trying to out-perform each other. Do it tonight, when we’ve made camp, then you can exhaust yourself all you want and sleep it off.”
    Mior slumped but nodded in resignation, and I retreated back into my own thoughts. That was, until I noticed he was surreptitiously sending tiny illusions into my sister’s path which she dispersed or destroyed with a gleeful grin. My own face echoed her smile as I watched the interaction – Mior was playful, inventive and seemed intent on amusing my sister, in which he succeeded with flair. It was a long time since either of us had done anything simply for the fun of it, and watching the two of them now made me think that maybe we ought to have. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen Shani this happy.
    I watched as Mior sent a glittering skylark her way and stifled a giggle as it soared around her head and flew straight into the talons of the falcon she had conjured.
    “Mior!” Zashter snapped, and both illusions abruptly vanished into smoke.
    “Alright, alright ,” Mior grumbled, kicking at a stone, and I found myself annoyed at Zashter all over again.
    “Do you know so little of magic, that their illusions bother you?” I challenged him.
    He looked at me over his shoulder, as if to check that I had really spoken, then turned his gaze ahead again before replying. “Didn’t you hear me just then? I don’t want them to drain themselves. We’re making little enough progress as it is, I don’t want it to be even less because we need to rest sooner than necessary.”
    “So I ask again, do you know so little of magic?” I retorted. “Illusions like that hardly use any energy at all. Shani could keep up a display like that for several measures before starting to tire.”
    Zashter sighed, stopped and turned to me. “Let me give you a few other reasons then,” he said, his voice exasperated. “First of all, how many horsemen have passed us so far today? Do you want them to take note of two half-elf sorcerers without slave-chokers?”
    “Horses are loud,” I bristled. “We’ll hear them before–”
    “Secondly, I know Mior better than you,” he interrupted me. “Let him play with his illusions and before long he’ll be showing off and using wards, barriers and the Gods know what else, and they will drain him.”
    I was taken aback when Mior gave a loud guffaw. “Oh Gods, remember when I tried to prove to Kasha that I could stop a four-ox log cart in its tracks, on my own?”
    “All too well,” Zashter said, rolling his eyes, and the sudden change in his demeanour was so remarkable that I could only stare at him with open mouth. The look in his eyes as he glanced at Mior was exasperated but fond, and for the first time the smile on his lips looked entirely genuine. “Just save it all for tonight,” he said, his tone now gentle, and Mior nodded with another chuckle.
    Zashter never spared me another glance as he started walking again, and I stared at his back with a strange little flutter in my heart. I wanted to get to know him, mockery or no. I still didn’t know why I felt so attracted to him, but maybe if I knew him better it would either subside or become more rational. I also felt wistful after watching that exchange between him and his brother – they had briefly seemed like people we could be friends with, and I realised that I had not had any close dealings with other half-elves ever since leaving the orphanage so long ago.