A snippet from my current WIP, Age of Saints (#7 of The Druid’s Brooch Series)
As he trudged down the path toward the oak grove, the wind whipped up, lashing the dried leaves on the ground into a swirling maelstrom. Conall shivered and drew his brat more tightly around his shoulder, hurrying his steps. He kept his head down into the wind and, as a result, didn’t notice the figure in his path until he ran into him.
“G-g-g-g-g-going somewhere, stone-b-b-b-boy?”
“I don’t have time for you right now, Tomas.” Conall tried to shoulder past the solid lad, but Tomas was too quick and stepped back in his way.
With a quick peek around him, Conall noticed Tomas was alone. His normal pack didn’t appear to be in attendance. That made things a bit easier.
“Out of my way, T-tomas.”
Tomas crossed his arms. “M-m-m-m-make me. Maybe if you ask really nice, I’ll let you go, but when you come back with your sister… well, I won’t be so generous. She’s growing up to be rather pretty. A bit fat for my tastes, but she’ll do.”
Conall balled his fists and called upon the brooch’s power. He couldn’t perform visible magic, as that could reveal the secret. But his father had never said anything about not using the power where it couldn’t be seen. He concentrated on the arch of his fist toward Tomas’ face, and just as flesh met startled flesh, he threw his magic behind the punch, making his adversary fly into the thorny bushes to one side of the path.