by C. A. McHugh
Ceryst didn’t answer. Instead, he chose to brood in the shadows, his hooded eyes filled with suspicion. It was like having to deal with an overgrown version of Aerrin.
“Please forgive my friend’s rude manners—he’s a bit eccentric,” Raimel interjected. “His weapons were a gift from Aerrin’s father and can’t be removed or destroyed by magic of any sort.” He gestured to a small log by the fire. “Here, take my seat.”
He cast a spell at the fire, which instantly doubled in size and intensity. Unfortunately, the amount of smoke it produced doubled as well. They all coughed and wheezed as they breathed in the acrid, smoke-clogged air.
Seroney cursed under her breath and cast another spell to counteract it. A vortex formed high above the fire, drawing the smoke up and absorbing it from the room.
Raimel’s mouth fell open. “Where did you learn that spell?”
“Seroney knows all kinds of odd spells.” Leandros searched the area around him. “Where did the food go?”
“It’s over here.” Aerrin held up a loaded sack, and Raimel pounced on it like a starving man.
She took a moment to study him. Ceryst, she already knew about. Raimel was an enigma. Tired, thin, scratched, clothes nearly worn through in some areas. And yet for all his exterior shabbiness and sarcasm, there was something oddly dangerous about him. Strange how Ceryst could trust him and not her.
“What news do you have, Ceryst?” Aerrin asked as he sat next to the knight.
The knight continued to glare at her. She narrowed her eyes at him. His intimidation tactics weren’t going to work. If he wanted to test her, he’d better know what he was going up against. If she hadn’t promised her uncle that she would maintain her ruse, she would’ve loved to unleash her full power on him.
Aerrin’s shoulders stiffened, and kingly arrogance crept into his voice. “I asked you a question, Ceryst.”
He finally turned his attention away from her and looked to Aerrin. “The demons in Sauvegny—it isn’t a rumor.”
Aerrin’s expression was far too grave for someone his age. “And north of the Craigars?”
“Nothing much going on up there.” Raimel wrestled an apple from Leandros. “Even demons and undead don’t like winter in the Icelands.”
Nyssa jutted out her lip in protest. Seroney’s roommate had been born in the Craigars.
“Anything else?”
Raimel bit into his hard-won apple and said with his mouth full, “There’s been some marauders spotted in Akershire who reportedly wear the symbol of the Raven Bringer.”
“In Akershire?” Leandros asked, his face paling, for once the food in his hands forgotten. “Are they near my brothers in Falmerton?”
“No, near Odenville.” Raimel took another bite of the apple. “I personally think they may be followers of Skitska—”
“But we’ll check into these reports,” Ceryst finished, cutting off his partner.
“Please do.” Aerrin’s gaze drifted back and forth between the two men. “You are my eyes and ears while I’m here at the Academy. I need all the evidence I can gather before I return to Dromore in few weeks. If there’s enough, I’ll present it to Privy Council. They may still refuse to admit that the Raven Bringer is alive, but they can’t ignore all the signs that his power is growing.”
“Men will always ignore something they aren’t prepared to deal with,” Seroney countered. She remembered what happened the first time the Raven Bringer rose to power and how her father cursed the Elgean stubbornness that allowed things to get so out of hand.
“Perhaps,” Aerrin said, “but these are intelligent men and women who are supposed to be doing what is best for the kingdom. You would think they would all be up in arms, ready to hunt down the Raven Bringer before it’s too late, not snicker every time I try to bring up the topic.”
“They remember your parents, Aerrin,” Raimel said quietly from where he sat, “and their loss still grieves them. To say the Raven Bringer still lives is like reopening an infected wound that isn’t fully healed. Even though you know it needs to be done, the memory of the pain causes you to procrastinate the inevitable until you can no longer ignore it.”
Ceryst gave him an approving nod. “That’s the first intelligent thing I’ve heard from you in months, Raimel.”
“Glad to know I can impress you every once in a while.”
Aerrin sighed and stoked the fire. “I hope this news will convince the Privy Council to act. I worry what might happen if we continue to delay our counterattack.”
It was the same fear Seroney had. Day after day, she weighed the consequences of leaving to hunt down the Raven Bringer herself, but one thing always held her back. Aerrin needed her. Let these two men continue to hunt the fiend down. She would be teaching Aerrin how to defend himself from demon attacks and other dark magics.
Ceryst placed his hand on the young king’s shoulder in the same consoling manner she’d witnessed that night she’d spied on them. “Raimel and I will leave later on tonight to investigate the attacks in Akershire, and we’ll be back in Dromore in time for the Feast of Mariliel on the equinox with all the information we can gather. Right, Raimel?”
The other man responded with a dramatic moan, but after a warning glance from Ceryst, Raimel nodded. “Fine, but once we return to Dromore, I expect to be properly rewarded with a cozy room and enough meat and wine to make up for being without them for so long. If you can find it in your heart to throw in a whore or two, I’d be entirely grateful. Ceryst could definitely use the skills of an experienced madam.”
“You’re not asking for yourself?” Seroney teased, then caught herself, remembering she was in the company of teens. Raimel should do the same.
He grinned at her in a way that made her wonder once again if he could see through her disguise.
At least, until Ceryst threw an apple at his head. “Watch your mouth. You’re not only in front of the king, but a bunch of impressionable kids too.”
Aerrin cleared his throat with a nervous cough, but Leandros jumped to his feet. “I resent being called a kid. I’m almost sixteen, and I can handle a weapon as well as any other man.”
“Are you sure we’re talking about the same weapon?” Raimel said, his naughty grin widening. “And who’s been your training partner?”
Leandros fumbled over his words for a moment before lifting his chin. “I’m too much of a gentleman to say.”
Raimel leaned over to her and whispered, “Virgin.”
Seroney couldn’t help but laugh. After months of dealing with teenage drama, it was a pleasure to enjoy some adult wit. Raimel may have a dangerous air about him, but his sense of humor made her feel at ease. If she wasn’t trying to pass herself off as a fifteen-year-old girl, she might have indulged in some flirtatious fun with him.
“Enough,” Aerrin ordered, using his kingly tone once again. “There’s another matter that’s come up that we wanted you two to be aware of. Seroney, please tell them what you’ve learned from your father.”
Her stomach knotted from fear. As far as she knew, the only people who knew she was from Oudesta were Aerrin and his friends. How would these two men react once they learned where she was from? She looked to Aerrin for some sort of guidance, to gauge how much they already knew.
“They know,” he said as though he read her mind.
Well, that explains why Ceryst greeted me with his sword drawn. But how much did they know?
Rather than risk revealing too much, she stated the basic details. “The Raven Bringer has managed to stretch his reach over the Divide into Oudesta.”
Raimel’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. “But how? Why?”
She gestured for him to calm down. “The how is easier to explain than the why. The Seven control who can cross the Divide—”
“The Seven?” Raimel asked.
“We’ll explain later,” Aerrin answered. “I want her to finish.”
“As I was saying, they protect Oudesta from those who wish ou
r people harm, but the rise in demon sightings, especially those wearing the Raven Bringer’s mark in Oudesta, suggests they are crossing the Divide by another means.”
“The Shadow Realm?” Raimel suggested.
“Perhaps, although another possibility is a magical gate. These are quite common in Oudesta and are used by those who normally can’t teleport to travel quickly throughout the land. The Temple Guard is investigating the situation, and my father will pass on anything they report to the council.”
“The Temple Guard?” Ceryst asked. The tone in his voice suggested he might not be asking who they were but what they were up to.
Time to make him feel woefully inadequate. “The men and women of the Temple Guard are a cross between warriors and priests. They use no weapons other than their fists or a simple weapon like a short sword. They strike like lightning and can snap arrows out of the air before disarming multiple opponents with one spell. But more important, they call upon the power of the gods when needed.”
Nyssa’s eyes widened. “I want to train as a Temple Guard.”
“So do I,” Leandros added.
Seroney laughed at the thought of him enduring the necessary training. “I don’t think you have the discipline to become a Temple Guard, Leandros. Besides, both of you are a bit too old to begin training, and there’s a required vow of celibacy.”
Leandros shuddered and took a long drink from the wineskin in his hands. “Count me out.”
“Agreed.” Raimel snatched the wineskin from him. “And give that to me. You’re too young to be hogging that all for yourself.”
Thunder rumbled outside the cave, and all of them fell silent. Gentle showers were normal for Arcana, not thunderstorms. Just another sign that something was amiss.
Aerrin stood and indicated his friends should follow. “We need to get back to the Academy before the river gets too high. Be careful.”
Raimel offered Seroney a hand, but once she was on her feet, she found Ceryst looming in front of her, preventing her from following the others as they left the cave.
“Aerrin says you’re teaching him about demons,” the burly knight said, his words low and dark.
She stood as tall as she could and ignored the frantic pounding of her heart. “I am.”
“And where did a girl like you learn about such things?”
“From an educational system that isn’t as backward as it is here. But then again, Elgeus was always a bit behind the times. It was only a few centuries ago that women were even allowed to practice magic without being executed.”
He leaned even closer over her, a gesture of pure intimidation. “And you think because you’re from Oudesta, you’re more powerful than me?”
Time to let him know I won’t be bullied.
Seroney pressed her palm into the center of his chest and cast a spell that locked every single muscle in his body, including the one that drew air into his lungs. He couldn’t fight her. He couldn’t counteract the spell. He couldn’t even scream for help. She gave him a second to realize what she’d done, and the moment the terror appeared in his eyes, she replied, “I know I am.”
She scurried back a few steps before she released him from the spell.
Anger replaced the terror, and he lashed out at her. “How dare you—”
She halted him by holding out her hand and allowing the magic to gather at her fingertips in a glowing blue ball. “Care for seconds?”
His nostrils flared with each quick breath he took, but he backed down.
She straightened and spoke low enough that Aerrin wouldn’t overhear. “Don’t treat me like an enemy, Ceryst of Klone. You may have been the Knight Protector, but here at the Academy, I’m one of the people protecting Aerrin by teaching him what he needs to know. Your antics are only preventing me from keeping him safe.”
“Good point.” Raimel shooed her away as he moved between her and Ceryst. “Now run along before Aerrin gets himself into trouble. I’ll deal with the mad wolf.”
If she’d been back home where everyone knew what being a Meritis meant, she would’ve let the family trait come to the surface to strike an extra level of fear into him. But this was Elgeus, and he already had it out for her. It wasn’t worth revealing what she was for that one extra blow. Her magic could speak for itself.
And yet as she glared at him, she could feel the primal nature of the trait begging to be unleashed. The longer the stareoff went on, the stronger it became. Her rage fed it. Her frustration. Her desire to put the asinine knight in his place. Just when it threatened to take over, she managed to look away.
“Good luck dealing with him,” she said to Raimel before dashing out of the cave to catch up with the one person whom she’d been charged to protect.
She knew her duty.
And hopefully, Ceryst had learned not to interfere with it.
***
So that was the mysterious Seroney. Raimel watched her chase after Aerrin and his friends. It was nice to have a face to go with the name.
And it didn’t hurt that it was a pretty face. He could say that it was due to the ebony waves that framed it or the glowing porcelain of her skin, but in truth, it was her eyes that captivated him. Large and green and almost feline in shape, surrounded by thick black lashes. And thankfully, he didn’t feel the least bit guilty enjoying her beauty since he knew she was really a master mage and not some fifteen-year-old kid.
But as much as he admired her appearance, it wasn’t until she took down Ceryst that his respect for her tripled.
Ceryst waited until they left before he spoke. “She’s hiding something.”
“What makes you say that?” Raimel replied with heavy sarcasm.
“She was on edge the whole time she was here.”
“I would be, too, if you pulled a sword on me the minute I walked into the cave.” He rifled through the sack of food Aerrin’s friend had left and calculated it would last all of three days. “You never took your eyes off her.”
A smiled played upon the former knight’s lips. “You spent a good deal of time with your eyes on her as well, although I believe for very different reasons.”
Raimel grinned. Ceryst knew him too well. “You think I have a chance with her?”
Ceryst’s expression darkened. “She’s a foreigner, Raimel.”
“She’s related to Master Binnius.”
“Which means she’s too smart to get involved with you.”
He appraised his dingy clothes and ran his hand over his stubble-covered cheeks. Not the best way to make a good first impression. “Wait a minute. Are you trying to say she wouldn’t be interested in me?”
He surveyed Raimel from head to toe, confirming that he looked like shit. “How could she resist you?”
“You don’t have to be so sarcastic about it.”
“I learned from the best.” Ceryst gathered his things. “You’re better off leaving her alone. She’s from Oudesta, and she’s up to something. That’s a bad combination, even for someone like you. Besides, how do you think she would react if she found out about your little problem?”
“She doesn’t have to know about it.” He tapped the pouch containing those precious vials Master Binnius had given him. There were only three left, but it would get him by until the Feast of Mariliel next month.
“If she’s around you for greater than a month, she’ll find out about it.” Ceryst’s voice darkened. “That is, if she doesn’t suspect something already.”
Ceryst had a point there. What if Master Binnius had told her what he was? She behaved very cautiously around him, and from Aerrin had told them, she’d been providing some extra education to the others. “I didn’t—”
“No.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I was worried for a moment.”
“She’s the one who needs to be careful. For a second there, I thought…” The knight didn’t finish his thought. Instead, he stared at the four students hiking up the bluff outside. “Take a look at her through
your eyes.”
“I did, and she was pretty.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“I knew exactly what you’re talking about.” Raimel shuddered at the mere thought of peering into the Shadow Realm. It had been so peaceful since Master Binnius had given him the charm. Sweat beaded along his forehead at the thought of risking the safety he’d gained by treading into the Raven Bringer’s world.
“Scared?” Ceryst challenged.
If he had one good thing to say about the cold rain, he could blame his shivers on it. “No, but just trying to decide if it’s worth it.”
“Just a peek.”
Raimel drew in a deep breath and peered into the Shadow Realm. He could barely make out Aerrin and his friends as they crested the bluff in the distance. All of them had the typical dark hazy outlines of mortals, but one of them was surrounded by a bright green halo.
He pulled back into the mortal realm before he pressed his luck too far. “Yeah, there’s something odd about her.”
“What did you see?” Ceryst marched toward him, drawing his sword.
“Nothing threatening, so put that away.” He scratched his chin as he mused over it. “I don’t usually see much color in the Shadow Realm, but she was surrounded by green.”
“Like the spell she used with those blasted vines.” He kicked at the dying plants that had once constrained him.
“I didn’t think you were perceptive enough to have noticed that.”
“I did study at the Academy for a few years,” Ceryst reminded him.
Yeah, and he’d flunked out in his third year. By then, though, his friendship with Prince Brendon had been cemented, and he was well on his way to becoming the king’s right-hand man.
“But it wasn’t black or red,” Raimel concluded, “so that was reassuring. In the meantime, I’ll ask around and see what that could mean. Unless, of course, you care to share with me what you think you saw while you were pissing yourself, other than a girl who wouldn’t take your ‘I’m a mean scary knight’ bullshit.”
Ceryst replied with a smack to the back of his head, once again evading the question. “Leave her alone. Let boys her own age flirt with her. You’re an old man.”