by Dan Neil
Keia failed to stifle a chuckle. “I’m more worried about leaving them alone with you.”
“Oh, funny.” Devin rolled her eyes. “If you aren’t here—well, I’ll cry—a lot. So, you better not because you know I’m ugly when I cry, and I don’t want Gilfried to see that yet. All right? If you can beat whatever was controlling me, you can show the king a thing or two. Right?”
Their gazes locked, and smiles came over both of their faces. Keia said, “Of course. I wouldn’t dream of leaving.”
Devin clapped her hands together. “Good. You’d better let me know what happens tomorrow. I want all the details. And then we’ll go on a mission together!”
Oliver intervened. “You will go on volunteer missions with your assigned partners.”
“Maybe someday we’ll be assigned to go on a mission together! The point is, we’ll both be here—like we always said.”
“Like we always said.” Keia placed a hand on the back of Devin’s head as they touched their foreheads together.
Devin whispered, “We’re here.”
Keia gave a resolute grin as they both pulled back. “I’ll see you in two days.”
“Two days. You’d better, or else—like I said, I’ll cry!”
Devin went through the portal and left Oliver and Keia alone.
To keep from twirling her hair, she clasped her hands behind her back. “Do you know anything about the trial?”
He stroked his chin. “It will be held in the Chamber of Tribunals. You will be judged by a committee consisting of the king and two of his advisers. My testimony will be weighed in the decision.”
Keia gulped. I hope Alfons Lorenzo isn’t on the committee. I’m sure Gaheris will be.
Oliver sighed. “I do believe Gaheris will work his way onto the committee. Thanks to a technicality—he and I must be in agreement, and we will never agree—he cannot outright deny you the right to this tribunal. I believe that he will do everything he can to sway the king against you.”
“What about the other adviser?”
“I have no idea. I have heard little about the new Keeper of Secrets. Alfons Lorenzo has no interest in any affair that fails to enrich him. Sir Brandon Gladwell would surely sit in the trial and judge fairly. Lord Rheinley is a wild card. I doubt that he would want to participate; his specialty is in the technicality of law, not in assessing combat effectiveness.”
“A lot rides on that third spot,” she said.
“The only thing that you can control is your own magic. You know your strengths and your shortcomings. You are smart enough to use that knowledge wisely, I believe.”
Keia nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Captain.”
“Yes. I will be by to pick you up. Get some sleep, Keia. You will need it.”
Her eyes closed. A lump was blocking the back of her throat, but warmth still emanated from her chest, rising to her neck and face. Despite the trial, despite her muscles crying out for rest at the end of a long day, despite all her worries and problems, her lips slowly curled into a warm, genuine smile. She had made it this far.
She gave a nod. “Goodnight, Captain.”
Keia left and cast a portal to her front door. Jisaazu was just down the street and flagged her down.
“Keia! Keia!” She ran over. “I got inducted today! Starting tomorrow, I’m officially in the Fifth Royal Brigade.”
A beaming grin spread across Keia’s lips, trying to mask her own worries. “Congratulations! I’m sure that means a lot to you.”
“It does. I’m looking forward to traveling with you. Our first mission is going to be so fun!”
Keia gave a pained half-smile. “The trial is tomorrow.”
“Oh.” Jisaazu reddened. “I forgot. Um, good luck. I really hope you can do it.”
“Thanks. I do, too.”
As if trying to be encouraging, the swordswoman said, “I’m sure you can. I mean, how hard is it to be a mage?”
Groaning mentally, Keia thought, For me, extremely.
Jisaazu continued, “You should get some sleep. I’m going to do the same.”
“I thought you’d be at the training field.”
“No, Sir Kaine decided to send me home for the night. Skipping training for some ceremony—ugh! Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be at the dining hall after training?”
Keia shuddered at the word dinner. “I don’t know if my stomach can handle any food right now—considering tomorrow and all. I don’t know how the hell I’m going to sleep.”
“Hey. It’s going to be all right.”
Keia nodded. “Everyone keeps saying that. I really hope they aren’t just doing it to make me feel better.”
Jisaazu frowned. “You’re really negative.”
“It’s a learned habit. Either way, I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe.”
“No.” Jisaazu shook her head. “Definitely.”
Keia went into her room and stared at the ceiling from the comfort of her bed. A thousand thoughts—Carter, Aliya, Mar’s words, the figure from her nightmares, Gaheris, her trial—it was all too much to keep track of. She turned over and curled into a ball.
Then she noticed the Moonshake on her desk. It was a gift from Myrddin—a potion that helped her sleep without dreams or nightmares but woke her if danger was nearby. As much as she hated using anything that old bastard gave her, tonight was as good as any. One sip, and she fell into a dreamless rest. She knew not what the next day held.
—
Keia awoke before dawn, as usual, and meditated with the Skystone that Myrddin gave her. Gaea showed her nothing out of the ordinary: Carter and Aliya in extreme danger, Lorinal lurking in the shadows, the figure that possessed Devin, and Ulrich, stench of rotting flesh and all.
Nothing helpful on today of all days. C’mon, universe.
The stone flickered. Keia rolled her eyes.
“Now even a fucking stone is reassur—no. No, that’s not a sign of anything.”
Keep it together, Keia. You can do this.
She waited for so long that she grew bored and began to read. She opened Definitive Casting Volume Thirteen by the Council of Elder Mages and buried herself in it. Despite finding the book’s subject interesting, her mind wandered.
Will I still be on this path at the end of the day?
She shook her head and tried to focus on the book. Even reading the words aloud barely helped.
A knock came from the door. Keia straightened her uniform before greeting Captain Oliver Alrick.
Tilting her head, she asked, “Finally time?”
“Yes. Come with me.” He flicked his wrist and opened a portal.
She closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and found her center. She was shaking. Every day for the past six months, she’d given it everything she had. Why was she so scared?
Oliver’s voice pierced her ears. “Are you all right?”
Keia snapped out of it. She took another deep breath and said, “Yes.”
“One thing. When they introduce the king, kneel.”
“Kneel?”
“Kneel. It is a formality.”
Keia’s eyes met Oliver’s. He nodded. Her heart was pounding ever faster as she closed her eyes and stepped through the portal.
Upon opening her eyes, she found herself in a marble room littered with pillars. A few ceremonial seats were occupied by scribes, who immediately set about their work. A raised stage of alabaster stone towered over the rest of the room. Three seats were arranged upon it.
Oliver led Keia to the center of the room and then took his seat off to the side. Her heart was pounding like a war drum—Keia wished Aliya was there to tell her everything would be all right. The lump in her throat was growing, and her stomach was in freefall as she stood alone, hoping they didn’t keep her in suspense much longer.
Sever
al people dressed in ceremonial robes walked in from a door behind the stage. One of them stepped forward and cleared his throat.
“Hear, hear! King Symon Del Gaddeaux is arriving to preside over this matter.”
Keia kneeled, as did everyone else. When she raised her head, the three seats were filled.
Gaheris, Symon, and—Mar?
Lord Mercer smiled as he stared down upon the proceedings. King Symon appeared more stern; his eyes were narrowed and his brows twitched. Gaheris was sneering. Keia shot him a glare.
Fuck that guy. If I make it through this, I’m rubbing it in his face someday—someday.
Symon’s voice carved through the still air. “Rise.”
Keia stood. The scribes returned to their seats, as did the captain. She gulped and stared forward.
The same man who announced the king’s presence read from a scroll. “This committee has formed to evaluate the combat suitability of Keia Atlos and to determine whether she will remain in the King’s Militia after her probationary status, as per the Rite of Conscription’s guidelines for those who did not complete the usual prerequisite—completion of the mage courses at Crown’s University—to join.”
Gaheris pounced on the brief silence, “Let the record show the circumstances of Keia’s involvement with the King’s Militia, to begin with. She was a common thief working with the now-escaped criminal mastermind, Axl Evander—who, might I add, is now working with—”
The king’s eye twitched. “Strange to begin by bringing up your own failure, Gaheris.”
Keia felt a bit unnerved as the king’s hands rolled into tightly clenched fists. His anger surged through the entire room like a wave of heat. This wasn’t the same man she’d talked to in Genevieve’s Garden those few months ago.
Lord Mercer broke the tension. “Please, my king. Let’s get to the show, shall we? This lass here is auditioning for her spot in the Fifth Magician’s Division—specializing in, I believe, natural magic?”
“Yes. Keia.” The king’s gaze fell on her, and her heart rate spiked. “Let us begin. What are your best spells?”
Forcing her back to stay straight and her shoulder squared, she said, “Portals, my king—and time shifts, water tendrils, and wind bursts.”
Gaheris scoffed. “I do believe that’s everything she can cast.”
She wanted to reply but held her tongue. Symon’s eyes were set upon her, narrowed in suspicion.
“Why do you want to be in the King’s Militia?” he asked.
Keia said, “To protect the kingdom and its people.”
“You trained with Myrddin. Almost exclusively,”—Symon leaned forward—“and then Myrddin leaves the kingdom and betrays us all. What, then, am I supposed to make of you?”
Keia barely made out what he was saying over her heart’s frantic beating. “Myrddin is a traitor, my king. I do not share any of his views.”
The king’s face softened. “Your parents served admirably years ago. Your sister continues to serve in their vein—I’m sure that she is sorely missed.”
Keia nodded.
Symon leaned back. “The first thing I wanted to establish today, and the most important by my estimate, is whether or not I could trust you. The lines have been drawn. Having been so close to that damned wizard, I couldn’t be sure of where you stand.”
Meeting his eyes, she said, “This is my home, my king, where my family has lived for generations. The people I train with are my friends. Myrddin betrayed all of that—I will not.”
The king sighed. “I can see that the deceits of the Mad Wizard have greatly affected you, too. I do take some heart from this. Now then, the only thing left to establish is your combat effectiveness. Gaheris, if you would.”
The Lord of Shadows cleared his throat and said, “Seeing as you are in my division, I will decide the parameters of your test based on which spells are most commonly used. Now, the Fifth Magician’s Division is mostly used to support the actions of regular infantry—to balance offense and defense in coordinated ways. Our division objectives in wartime could include defending a position, covering an advance, or engaging enemy mages.”
Keia gulped. He’s going to do his best to make sure I fail.
He smiled. “First, we begin with our most basic attacking spell: a simple fireball. Keia, would you give the committee an example of a standard fireball spell? Such a thing shouldn’t be beyond anyone who desires to join such an elite unit as the King’s Militia.”
Her eyes narrowed, heat rising in her cheeks. You bastard.
This was easily her worst spell, and somehow, Gaheris knew it. Keia held her wand up. The space between the tip of her nose and that of her wand seemed to stretch on forever.
The king asked, “Surely you mean to cast that at your captain?”
Keia turned and saw Oliver with one of his metal wands raised. She leveled the wand at him and closed her eyes.
All right. Whatever everyone thinks is special about me—whatever they see—now’s the time for it to be real. Come on.
She visualized a ball of flames emerging from the tip of her wand and crashing harmlessly into the captain’s ward. She imagined the heat, the shape, the color. All her willpower focused on bringing the spell into existence. Behind her eyelids, blue light—as if from a Skystone—pulled her in and gave back equally. A strange sensation streamed through her body and into her hand, and then her wand. It was—warmth.
Elation rose within her, and a floating sensation filled her head. She’d done it; she was sure of it.
Keia opened her eyes.
A small sizzle of smoke rose into the sky—nothing more.
Hope turned to exhaustion. She stared at her wand, dumbfounded and paralyzed in frustration.
No. No, no, no, no. No, it can’t be.
Gaheris smiled and turned to King Symon. “Well, it seems that she’s unable to cast the most basic spell required of her. I don’t think her fitness for this division should be in question any longer. We should begin discussing her legal situation.”
Keia’s hand slowly lowered as she stared at the ground. Her knees wobbled, threatening to give out at any moment. Her heartbeat had slowed to a defeated crawl. All that work, all those days that she gave everything until she had nothing left, and it still wasn’t good enough. It’s all over. It was all for nothing.
Oliver stepped forward, hand reaching into his pocket, when Lord Mar Mercer’s voice pierced through the air. “Hold up, now. You’re telling me your division has access to natural magic—all of that—and all you’ll be using them for is fireballs?”
Keia blinked a few times before a sense of hope kicked back in. What?
Gaheris scoffed. “Of course not. But that is the most common scenario—”
“Is it? And how many ‘scenarios’ have you been in command of?”
The Lord of Shadows was taken aback. “I have quite the knowledge of magic, I’ll have you know—”
Mar gestured toward Keia. “In that case, it shouldn’t be hard to name another spell for the girl to try. It’s not fair to judge her whole worth on one spell. Come, now; what’s the second most common ‘scenario’ you’ve encountered?”
The king nodded. “I must agree with Lord Mercer. If merely casting a fireball was enough for admission, half the bloody kingdom would be in this division. Besides, I’ve already put off all my plans for the afternoon. We may as well be thorough.”
Gaheris’s jaw dropped. “But—my king! She can’t even cast—”
One brief look into Symon’s eyes silenced the Lord of Shadows’s protest.
Gaheris took a deep breath. “Very well, then. Another common spell is the ward, useful in several situations on the battlefield. Captain Alrick, if you would provide a fireball?”
Keia breathed a sigh of relief.
Oliver nodded and met Keia’s eyes. No words
needed to be spoken for Keia to understand how much her captain believed in her.
I can do this.
The king raised his hand and said, “Ready—fire at will.”
The fireball took shape and rocketed toward her. Keia was ready. Vibrations shot up her arm as pure energy erupted from the tip of her wand and formed a solid wall before her. It wasn’t the prettiest ward she’d seen, but it deflected the spell.
I did it! Keia laughed, beginning to feel confident. Still, after only two spells, her muscles were already quivering, drained of energy and aching for relief; her lungs were stretching out, seeming to take less air from each heaving breath.
Lord Mercer clapped. “One for two. Good show. What’s next then, Lord of Shadows?”
Gaheris frowned. “Another important spell for the division is the lightning bolt.”
Keia raised her wand as Oliver prepared a ward. There was no time to rest, and spell number three was sure to be tricky.
She felt a small jolt as a weak lightning bolt rocketed from her wand—weak, but a bolt nonetheless. Dizziness overtook her, her lungs crying out for more air. Symon and Mar were satisfied, but Gaheris’s eyes were bulging, his face swelling and red.
The Lord of Shadows said through a clenched jaw, “Another important spell is telepathy—all soldiers must be capable of communicating on the battlefield.”
Keia easily demonstrated the spell with Oliver, who confirmed her use of it to the committee. Fatigue was setting in, but it was nothing compared to her usual training.
Looks like Myrddin prepared me better than I thought—Captain Alrick, too.
“What’s next then, Gaheris?” the king demanded. “She’s three for four thus far.”
“Next,” Gaheris said through gritted teeth, “would be a spell among her favorites—water tendrils.”
Keia took a few deep breaths before summoning a solid mass of water and controlling it. She maneuvered it up and down and then from side to side. After ten seconds or so, she ceased the spell, and the water landed on the floor. A burst of light-headedness nearly took her balance, but she forced her legs to lock in place with pure will.
“Don’t tell me you’re tiring after five spells, young Atlos?” Gaheris asked. “I’d think a soldier could cast more than that—especially one hoping to join an elite division.”