Assuming that the pods were a fruit and the beans edible, I pulled out every botany book I could find in the library and piled them on my table. Then I went through the shelves again. This time, I grabbed any volume with information about poisons. A much smaller stack; Valek had probably taken the interesting ones back to his office. My third trip through the shelves was an effort to find books on magic. Nothing.
I paused by an empty shelf, an oddity in this tightly packed library, and wondered if it had contained manuals about magic. Considering how the Commander viewed magic, it was logical to destroy any pertinent information. On a whim, I explored the lower levels of the bookcase under the empty shelf. Thinking that a book from the empty shelf could have slid back behind the other books, I took out all the texts on the lower shelves. My efforts were rewarded by the discovery of a slim volume entitled Magical Power Sources. I hugged the book to my chest as paranoia gripped me. Scanning the library, I made sure no one was there. With sweaty palms, I hid the book in my backpack. I planned to read it later, preferably in my room with the door locked.
Giddy with my illicit acquisition, I searched the various rooms of the library until I found a comfortable chair. Before dragging it back to my nook, I beat the dust from its purple velvet cushions. It was the most elegant seat I had seen in the castle, and I wondered who had used it before me. Had the dead King been a bibliophile? The considerable collection of books said as much. Either that or he had shown his librarian great favor.
I spent many hours in that chair reading through the botany books and discovering nothing. I planned to decipher the pod and bean puzzle while I researched information for myself. The tedious work was at least broken into small sessions by my tasting the Commander’s meals and by my afternoon strolls around the castle.
It had been four days since the exercise, and that afternoon my walk had a purpose. I scouted for a place with a view of the east gate, but where I wouldn’t be obvious to the flow of people passing through.
Valek still hadn’t returned from his mission, and closing ceremonies had been performed the night before at the fire festival, ending the weeklong celebration. Rand, looking hungover, had informed me this morning that Brazell and his retinue would finally leave the castle, via the east gate, to go home. My desire to see Brazell’s retreating back with my own eyes had driven me to seek the perfect position.
The barracks for the Commander’s soldiers filled both the northeast and southwest corners of the castle complex. In the northeast barracks, the L-shaped building extended from the north gate to the east gate, and a large rectangular training area had been built next to the east leg of the building. There was a wooden fence around the yard and, when training was in progress, the fence attracted the castle’s various residents to stop along it to watch the exercises. That afternoon I joined in with a group of observers, who not only had a clear view of the fighting drills, but the east gate as well.
Rand’s information proved accurate. Soon I was rewarded by a parade of green-and-black–clad soldiers. I could see Brazell on his dappled mare, riding among his most trusted advisers, at the end of the procession. Brazell’s retinue ignored the people around them.
As I watched Brazell’s back, Reyad’s ghost appeared next to me. He smiled as he waved goodbye to his father. A shudder vibrated down my spine. I glanced around. Did anyone else see him? The group of people that I had been standing with had dispersed. Had Reyad scared them off? But when I looked again, his ghost was gone.
A hand touched my arm. I flinched.
“Good riddance to that lot,” Ari said, tilting his head toward the east gate. Seeing him for the first time in the sunlight, I noticed that Ari’s eyes were such a pale blue that in the darkness his eyes had seemed to hold no color.
Ari stood with Janco on the other side of the fence. Both wore the sleeveless shirts and short pants that the soldiers liked to train in. Sweat-soaked and streaked with dirt, their faces and bodies sported new cuts and bruises.
“Bet you’re as glad as we are to see them go,” Janco said. Resting his wooden training sword on the fence, he rubbed the sweat off his face with the bottom of his shirt.
“Yes, I am,” I said.
Looking toward the east gate, the three of us stood in companionable silence for a moment, watching Brazell’s entourage disappear through the gate.
“We want to thank you, Yelena,” Ari said.
“What for?”
“The Commander promoted us to Captains. He said you gave us a good report,” Janco said.
Surprised and pleased that the Commander would heed my words, I smiled at them. I could see Ari and Janco shared a loyalty to one another, an obvious bond of friendship and trust. Three years ago, I had felt that kind of kinship with May and Carra at the orphanage, but Reyad had torn me away, and the empty space inside me still ached. Rand had given me friendship, but there was still a distance. I longed to connect with someone. Unfortunately, my life as the food taster made it impossible. Who would take the risk of connecting with me when my odds of living through the next year were little to none?
“We’re scouting for the Commander’s elite guard now,” Janco said with pride in his voice.
“We owe you one. Anytime you need help, just let us know,” Ari said.
His words gave me a bold idea. Brazell might be gone, but he was still a threat. I thought fast, searching for reasons why my plan wouldn’t be to my benefit.
“I need help,” I said.
Surprise flashed over their faces. Ari recovered first. “With what?” he asked warily.
“I need to learn how to defend myself. Can you teach me self-defense and how to use a weapon?” I held my breath. Was I asking too much? If they said no, I hadn’t lost anything. At least I had tried.
Ari and Janco looked at each other. Eyebrows twitched, heads tilted, lips pursed and hands made small movements. I watched their silent conversation in amazement as they discussed my request.
“What kind of weapon?” Ari asked. Again that hesitation evident in his voice.
My mind raced. I needed something that was small enough to hide within my uniform. “A knife,” I said, knowing I’d have to return Rand’s to the kitchen.
More facial expressions were exchanged. I thought Ari might be agreeing, but Janco looked queasy, as if the idea didn’t sit well with him.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Look,” I said. “I’ll understand if you refuse. I don’t want to get you into trouble, and I know how Janco feels about me. I believe his exact words were: ‘She’s a criminal.’ So, if the answer is no, that’s fine with me.”
They stared at me in astonishment.
“How did you—” Janco started to say, but Ari punched him on the arm.
“She overheard us in the forest, you dope. How close were you?”
“Fifteen feet.”
“Damn.” Ari shook his head, which caused his tight blond curls to bounce. “We’re more worried about Valek. We’ll train you if he doesn’t object. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
Ari and I shook hands. When I turned to Janco, he seemed deep in thought.
“A switchblade!” he declared, grabbing my hand.
“What?” I asked.
“A switchblade would be better than a knife,” Janco said.
“And where would I carry this…switchblade?”
“Strapped to your thigh. You cut a hole in your pants pocket. Then if you’re attacked, you pull it out, hit the switch, and a nine-inch blade leaps to your disposal.” Janco demonstrated the motion to me and mock stabbed Ari, who clutched his stomach dramatically and fell over.
Perfect, I thought. Thrilled by the idea of learning to defend myself, I asked, “When do we start?”
Janco scratched his goatee. “Since Valek isn’t back we could start with some basic self-defense moves, nothing objectionable about that.”
“Moves she could have learned by watching the soldiers train,” Ari said, agreeing with his
partner.
They decided. “Right now,” they said in unison.
17
STANDING NEXT TO THE two oversize soldiers, I felt like a plum wedged between a couple of cantaloupes. Misgivings crept into my mind. The notion that I could defend myself against someone of Ari’s build seemed ridiculous. If he wanted, he could pick me up and throw me over his shoulder, and there was nothing I could do about it.
“Okay. First, we’ll start with some self-defense,” Ari explained. “No weapons until the basic moves are instinctive. You’re better off fighting hand to hand than wielding a weapon you don’t know how to use. A skilled opponent would simply disarm you. Then your troubles would be doubled. Not only would you be under attack, but you’d have to counter your own weapon.”
Ari leaned his practice sword next to Janco’s, scanning the training yard. Most of the soldiers were gone, but small clumps of men still worked.
“What are your strengths?” Ari asked.
“Strengths?”
“What are you good at?”
Janco, sensing my confusion, prompted, “Are you a fast runner? That’s a handy skill.”
“Oh.” I finally understood. “I’m flexible. I used to be an acrobat.”
“Perfect. Coordination and agility are excellent skills. And…” Ari grabbed me around the waist. He threw me high into the air.
My limbs flailed a moment before instinct kicked in. Still in midair, I tucked my chin, arms and legs close to my body, executed a somersault to align myself, and landed on my feet, wobbling to regain my balance.
Outraged, I turned on Ari. Before I could demand an explanation, he said, “Another advantage of having acrobatic training is the ability to stay on your feet. That maneuver of yours could mean the difference between life and death. Right, Janco?”
Janco rubbed the vacant spot where the lower half of his right ear used to be. “It helps. You know who else would make a great fighter?”
Ari’s shoulders sagged, as if he knew what Janco was going to say next and resigned himself to it.
Intrigued, I asked, “Who?”
“A dancer. With the proper training, the fire dancers at the festival could take on anyone. With a blazing staff spinning around, I wouldn’t go against one with any weapon.”
“Except a pail of water,” Ari countered.
He and Janco then launched into an intense argument, debating the technical aspects of a fight against a fiery staff wielded by an enraged dancer. Although fascinated by the discussion, I had to interrupt them. My time was limited. The Commander’s dinner would soon be served.
With only occasional sarcastic comments about fire dancers, Ari and Janco spent the remainder of my first lesson teaching me to block punches, then kicks, until my forearms were numb.
Ari halted the exercise when another soldier approached. His and Janco’s relaxed postures tightened. They shifted to defensive stances, as Nix, the guard from Captain Parffet’s unit, came closer. The skin on Nix’s bald head was sunburned, and his thin fringe of black hair lay damply on his forehead. An overpowering stench of body odor preceded him, gagging me. His lean muscles reminded me of a slender coil of rope, dangerous when pulled tight.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Nix demanded.
“That’s—what the hell do you think you’re doing, sir?” Janco corrected him. “We outrank you. And, I think a salute would be a nice touch.”
Nix sneered. “You’ll lose your promotion when your boss finds out you’re associating with a criminal. Whose brainless idea was it to make her into a more effective killer? When another dead body shows up, you’ll be accomplices.”
Janco took a menacing step toward Nix, but Ari’s meaty hand on his shoulder stopped him. With undertones of a threat laced into his voice, Ari said, “What we do with our free time is none of your business. Now, why don’t you shuffle off to Parffet. I saw him heading toward the latrines. He’ll need you to wipe his ass soon. It’s the one skill you’re most suited for.”
Nix was outnumbered, but he couldn’t resist a parting shot. “She has a history of killing her benefactor. I’d watch my necks if I were you.”
Ari’s and Janco’s eyes stayed on Nix’s back until he left the yard. Then they turned to me.
“That’s a good start,” Ari said, ending the lesson. “See you tomorrow at dawn.”
“What about Nix?” I asked.
“No problem. We can take care of him.” Ari shrugged it off, confident in his ability to deal with Nix. I envied Ari’s self-assurance and physical power. I didn’t think I could handle Nix, and I wondered if there was another reason, besides killing Reyad, that made Nix hate me.
“I taste the Commander’s breakfast at dawn,” I said.
“Then right after.”
“What for?” I asked.
“The soldiers run laps around the compound to keep in shape,” Janco answered.
“Join them,” Ari said. “Do at least five circuits. More if you’re able. We’ll increase the amount until you’ve caught up to us.”
“How many laps do you run?”
“Fifty.”
I gulped. As I returned to the castle, I thought of the work and time I would need to devote to training. Learning self-defense would require the same commitment I had applied to my acrobatics. I couldn’t go halfway. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. I had been giddy with fairy-tale visions of easily fighting off Brazell’s guards. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized this wasn’t something to do on a whim.
I wondered if I would be better off spending my time learning about poisons and magic. In the end, all the physical training in the world wouldn’t save me from Irys’s magical powers.
My feet dragged on the ground, and my body felt as if it were pulling a wagon full of stones. Why couldn’t I just go for it? Why was I constantly considering each option, searching both sides of an argument for gaps in the logic? Like somersaulting on the trampoline, plenty of ups and downs but no forward motion. I longed for the days when a wrong decision wouldn’t cost me my life.
By the time I reached the Commander’s office, I had concluded that I had other enemies besides the magician, and being able to defend myself might save my life someday. Knowledge, whatever the form, could be as effective as a weapon.
Soon after I arrived, one of the tutors bustled into the office, dragging a young girl with him. At age twelve every child was assigned a profession based on their capabilities, and then they were sent to the appropriate tutor for four years to learn.
The tutor’s red uniform had black diamonds stitched on the collar, making it the direct opposite of an adviser’s black uniform. The girl wore the simple red jumper of a student. Her brown eyes were shiny with unshed tears. Her facial expressions alternated between terror and defiance as she battled to compose herself. I guessed she was about fifteen years old.
“What’s the problem, Beevan?” the Commander asked, annoyance tainting his voice.
“This disobedient child is a constant disruption to my class.”
“In what way?”
“Mia is a know-it-all. She refuses to solve mathematical problems in the traditional manner and has the gall to correct me in front of the entire class.”
“Why are you here?”
“I want her disciplined. Whipped, preferably, and reassigned as a servant.”
Beevan’s request caused silent tears to spill down Mia’s cheeks, although she maintained her composure, which was impressive for someone so young.
The Commander steepled his fingers, considering. I cringed for the girl, having her tutor bother the Commander for this dispute would not help her. Beevan must have gone over the training coordinator.
“I’ll handle it,” the Commander finally said. “You’re dismissed.”
Beevan wavered for a moment, opening and closing his mouth several times. His pinched expression revealed that this was not the response he had expected. Nodding stiffly, he left the offi
ce.
The Commander pushed his chair away from the desk and gestured to Mia to come around. Now eye level with her, he asked, “What’s your side of the story?”
With a thin quavering voice, she answered, “I’m good with numbers, Sir.” She hesitated as if expecting to be corrected for making a bold statement, but, when none came, she continued, “I was bored solving mathematical problems Tutor Beevan’s way, so I invented new and faster ways. He’s not good with numbers, Sir.” Again she stopped, flinching as though she was anticipating a blow. “I made the mistake of pointing out his errors. I’m sorry, Sir. Please don’t whip me, Sir. I’ll never do it again, Sir. I’ll follow Tutor Beevan’s every command.” Tears flowed down her bright pink cheeks.
“No, you won’t,” the Commander replied.
Terror gripped the girl’s face.
“Relax, child. Yelena?”
Startled, I spilled some of his tea. I had been holding his tray. “Yes, Sir.”
“Fetch Adviser Watts.”
“Yes, Sir.” I put the tray on the desk and hurried through the door. I had met Watts once. He was the Commander’s accountant, who had given me the money I had earned playing fugitive. He was working at his desk, but immediately followed me back to the office.
“Watts, do you still need an assistant?” the Commander asked.
“Yes, Sir,” Watts replied.
“Mia, you have one day to prove yourself. If you don’t dazzle Adviser Watts with your mathematical skills, then you’ll have to return to Beevan’s class. If you do, then you can have the job. Agreed?”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” Mia’s pretty face was radiant as she trailed behind Watts.
I marveled at the Commander. Being compassionate, hearing Mia’s side of the story, and giving her a chance, were the exact opposite of how I imagined the encounter would play out. Why would a man with such power take the time to go that extra step? He risked upsetting Beevan and the coordinator. Why would he bother to encourage a student?
Poison Study Page 14