Mask of Shadows

by Linsey Miller

  Nine

  The Left Hand made us wait. I stewed in my seat, listening to the drone of conversations around me. Twenty-Two was one of the oldest here—an archer and swordswoman by the look of it—and she asked her servant to bring her wrist guards after the first session. Seven and Eight were twitchy northerners, with Seven keeping his eyes on everyone else while Eight whispered in hushed Erlenian. Twenty devoured plate after plate of food and chewed with his mouth open the whole time. I poured myself another cup of tea.

  Eating before running always made me sick. Best not risk it—strength training could mean anything.

  The door to the nook creaked open. Amethyst stepped out first and whispered to Ruby’s servant. The Left Hand filed out.

  “Lady Amethyst will oversee your first session. She suggests you all take a moment to drink a glass of water.” The servant looked at us in turn till everyone had downed a glass. Another little test to see how fast we obeyed? “If you’ll follow me.”

  We all rose at once and stopped.

  None of us wanted to walk out first. Or last. Two and Fifteen did an awkward dance to see would go first with their backs to everyone else till Two squared her shoulders and strolled through before we could react. Four and Three followed, guarding her back. I’d not thought much on making friends, but they’d be good people to know.

  Till they turned on me and each other.

  Familiarity bred trust, and trust got you killed, made you think someone was there to catch you when they weren’t. The trio would find that out soon enough.

  I slipped into the middle of the crowd. Five’s massive shoulder brushed mine, and he glanced at me with his dead eyes. The sun might have sapped all color from them if not for the dark ring of gray around the blue.

  He knocked me aside. A knife hidden under his shirt hit my arm. Odd. I’d figured him for a fencer with his noble airs.

  “Anyone they trap in training won’t last the day if we’re smart,” Five said to Eight in a low whisper. “Any archer worth their salt would be Opal by sundown.”

  Eight stared at Five.

  “Any archer who doesn’t get caught,” Seven said dryly.

  “They’re looking for initiative.” Five clapped Eight on the back, and I caught sight of his bored, crooked smile through the mouth of his mask. He wasn’t making friends or keeping them. “Spend your time wisely and they won’t care if you skip training.”

  Seven kissed his last three fingers and sent a prayer off to the Triad while Eight walked on, none the wiser. Five was playing a whole different game.

  I stumbled forward into Five, gripping his arm to steady myself and cursing to distract him. My other hand dipped under his coat and grabbed his knife. He elbowed me off without even looking at my number. I sunk back into the crowd.

  Five touched his chest and stopped. I ducked behind Twenty.

  Five could play his game, and I could play mine. One less thing for him to kill me with.

  Later, sweat-drenched and trembling under the weight of my clothes, I just wanted to fling my belt and knives and all extra weight away from me. Amethyst stalked over us, mask blinding in the sunlight. Only seven of us were on the ground, noses close to the dirt and bellies pulled tight to our spines so we looked like planks as we balanced on our forearms and toes. I was sure only four of us needed it. Four and Two were across from each other in our circle and keeping an eye on each other’s backs. I could barely keep my eyes open.

  “Ten, nine, eight.” Amethyst walked past me, legs barely trembling even though she’d run laps around the courtyard for ages with us. “Seven, six, five.”

  I sucked in a long drowning gasp through my nose and counted her footsteps. The cloth stuck to my face in an itchy, sweaty clump. “Two, one.”

  I collapsed. Amethyst clucked her tongue.

  “Up. Straighter. Another ten.” She stuck her foot under Eleven’s stomach and toed her off the ground. “I do not care how untrained you are—your back should be straight. Controlling the muscles at your center will widen your range of motion and abilities. People without control have no place here.”

  I clenched my jaw and straightened my back. Again.

  “Chin up.” Amethyst toed my nose off the ground. “You should only stare at the ground if you’re giving up.”

  On a shaded wall way across from me, Five watched us. He’d not been one of the weaklings included in strength training, and he hadn’t moved since he’d climbed up there. Waiting.

  Eight was nowhere to be seen. Emerald and Ruby must’ve been evaluating those not in training. Judging what the auditioners did in their downtime.

  But why was Five auditioning? If he was a noble, he’d all the wealth and forestland he needed to live on. Unless he got greedy, but still.

  “Down.” Amethyst tapped her foot.

  I lowered myself to the ground, hands next to my shoulders and elbows up like she’d shown us. Eleven collapsed into a panting heap and curled into herself. Under her new clothes, she was all bones and dead runes. The deep, aching burn in my own stomach begged me to roll up into a ball and never move again.

  Showing weakness like that would get me killed.

  “Being able to support yourself is a must as Opal.” Amethyst, still in armor despite the sun and not showing a single sign of feeling it, grabbed one of the bars standing head-height and horizontal in the center of our ring. With two hands shoulder-width apart, she lifted her feet from the ground. Her arms didn’t shake, her back didn’t bend, and she pulled her chest over the bar with her legs straight out in front of her. “While our positions consist of public displays and protecting Our Queen, there are also a number of jobs that require discretion. Escape routes are subject to chance. I have hung by my fingertips in winter from a windowsill waiting for a room to clear—from sunrise to midmorning. Letting go would’ve killed me. Gripping the sill with my hands fully would have gotten me killed. You must be able to support yourself and your gear, or you will fail.”

  And she repeated that lift exercise ten times. While speaking.

  I could maybe do it once. Without armor. Shaking.

  Amethyst was spectacular.

  “I do not care how strong you think you are. You must be stronger.” Amethyst lowered herself to the ground and got into the straight-backed, stomach-sucking position we’d been in earlier. “On your stomach, hands slightly wider than your shoulders, and back straight. Push yourself up and lower yourself down—not touching the ground—and push up again. Don’t stop until I say so.”

  A chill shuddered up my spine and a pool of sweat collected in the small of my back. I pushed myself up.

  The rush of air awakened another shiver. My breath left me on the way down, stomach scraping the ground, and I curled my nails into the dust. I had to be Opal. I was strong enough. I would be Opal—noble and deadly.

  I shoved myself up, and my elbows creaked. Amethyst shook her head at me. I hadn’t even thought beyond claiming the mask, claiming those Erlends who owed me Nacea, but I’d be noble. I’d have an equal rank to all those old nobles sitting on the high court.

  I’d be equal to that lady from the carriage—in rank, if not in brazenness.

  My nose smacked the ground. I winced, pain flaring behind my eyes, and rolled my head up till the ache faded. Five was gone from his perch. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

  Eleven huffed beside me. I glanced to my other side as Twenty dropped to the ground, elbows going everywhere. Three, Five, Seven, and Eight were nowhere to be seen, and I paused. Amethyst cleared her throat.

  I looked up. Light sparked in the window beyond her head.

  Arrow tip.

  I pushed up, flying backward, and fell on my ass. Twenty laughed.

  An arrow tore through his neck. It clattered against the ground where my chest had been, splattering blood across the stones. Twenty collapsed, grasping his throat with both hands and sucking in wet, drowning breaths. I twisted back to the spark of light.

  Nothing.
<
br />   Amethyst turned Twenty onto his back. His chest didn’t rise again.

  She glanced around at all of us. “Anyone see who did it?”

  No one answered. I’d options but only one good guess—either Five was doing his own work or Eight had taken his suggestion. Neither was comforting.

  “Abel?” Amethyst waved her servant forward. “Have them clean this up. The rest of you shift to your left and keep going. Stay out of their way.”

  We all crawled out of the servants’ way and back into position, gazes darting to the windows and roofs. I half-followed Amethyst’s directions after that, pushing myself as far as I could while listening to the people around me. Two was diagonal from me, and I made sure to watch her reaction whenever she looked my way. No one saw anything and no one else died.

  I was one step closer to Opal but so was everyone else.

  Well, except Twenty.

  Ten

  An eternity later, I rose on shaky legs. Two and Four looked for archers, and I slid into step behind them and in front of trembling Eleven. Four grabbed a waterskin from his servant, and Two accepted a mug of crunchy nuts from hers. Eleven pulled a canteen from a hidden pocket.

  Knives, sure, but water had never been a weapon. Now it could kill me or save me. I’d not told Maud to—

  “Auditioner?” Maud appeared at my other side, a leather canteen in one hand and half a sweet potato in her other. She leaned in closer. “I was the only one to handle these.”

  I downed half the canteen in one go. “Thanks.”

  “Of course.” Maud looked away as my exhausted, shaky hands splattered water everywhere. “Would you like anything else?”

  “No.” I plucked up the potato and sniffed. Smelled safe. I’d have to take her word for it now. I bit into it, flesh melting over my tongue, and groaned. Running all night hadn’t been this hard, hadn’t left my stomach clawing at my ribs like this. Hunger, sure, but this was need. How did anyone do this?

  How would I do this again tomorrow?

  “Can you bring me more water next break?” I glanced toward the group. “Or whenever you can.”

  Maud pursed her lips. “Keep the canteen. I cannot interrupt your sessions, and you will have no more breaks.”

  “Great.” I hooked the canteen to my belt and shoved the rest of the potato into my mouth.

  She fell behind and vanished with the rest of the servants. She was useful.

  So far.

  This new courtyard was large and airy. Steep-roofed buildings overhung the path and towered behind us. Windows dotted the walls, dark and empty with plenty of notches for handholds, and a tall wall encircled the rest of the land in a long semicircle. Beyond the head-high bricks, evergreens and browning oaks blocked our view of the eastern spires. A decorative forest between us and the real palace.

  A few trees between me and the Erlend lords.

  “Wipe your hands before you touch my bows.” Emerald squeezed my arm and breezed past me to a rack of longbows and quivers.

  “You’ll be shooting toward the wall.” Emerald handpicked a bow for each of us based on height and appearance. She pointed to the forest. “But first, I want to see how you stand.”

  Emerald demonstrated how to hold the bow. Fingers weak, I nearly dropped mine. The open, shaded air chilled the sweat coating my skin, and I tightened my grip on the bow. Five stood next to me, back from wherever he’d been, and glanced at my hands. I forced myself to be steady till he looked away.

  Emerald marched to the other end of the line so they could see what she was doing.

  With her gone, I dropped my stance and rested the bow on my foot. Eleven hooked hers across a shoulder and doubled over her knees, still trying to catch her breath. I slid a hand along the bow. It was finer than anything I’d ever handled and certainly better than the ones Grell let us carry for dangerous runs.

  “Absolutely not.” Emerald smacked my shoulder with an arrow. “Bow off the ground, or you’ll spend the night eating dirt.”

  I jerked up, one hand gripping the bow and the other on the string. Emerald shook her head.

  “Shoulders perpendicular to your target.” She glided past, nudging my feet wider and tapping my stomach. “You should think of your body in angles. Your angle to the target, the angle of your arm from the ground, your bow from your body.”

  She raised her voice and walked to Five.

  “Your eyes will not lead you to your target. Your body is in control, and you must be in control of your body.” She shoved his shoulders down from his ears and adjusted Eleven. Pleased—or as pleased as she ever was—with all of us, she picked up her bow. “Now don’t move.”

  My shoulders ached. A slow, seeping pain dripped down my spine, tightening every muscle and burrowing under my shoulder blades. A needling pressure burned in my lower back. The ache trembled down my arms till my elbows locked.

  “Your target,” said Emerald, arms not shaking at all, “will not always be in an easily accessible position. You will have to wait for them to move within range where you can kill them, harm no one else, and escape unnoticed. Or you will adjust accordingly.”

  She drew back her right arm as though to shoot, and we all followed. My right hand tensed, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to uncurl my fingers if I tried. The ache was bone deep and gnawed at my joints. She held us there till sweat dripped down my forehead, nose, chin, and neck. The canteen was heavy on my hip.

  “If you are Opal, the day will come when your duty will demand patience, and you must be ready for that day. Or else you have no business being Opal.”

  Emerald moved to lower her bow. Eleven dropped her arms with a loud sigh, and I cracked my shoulders out of position. Finally.

  Emerald froze again and clucked her tongue. “You cannot rush things—impatience courts failure.”

  She lifted her bow back into place.

  No one moved. My shadow grew longer with each agonizing shake of my arms, my fingers stretching into misshapen claws around the bow. I let out a raspy breath into my shoulder and bent my knees to ease the stone-jointed weight that had settled in my legs. Emerald lowered her stance and shook out her arms. I collapsed over my knees.

  “Stand up straight.” Emerald collected my bow with the others. “You’re not done yet.”

  I rose, holding back a groan at my pins-and-needles arms. Five crossed his arms over his head, hands dangling over his shoulders. His fingers were calloused.

  Four did stretches down the way, hooking one arm behind his back. My shoulder popped when I tried it.

  I downed the rest of my canteen instead of copying the rest.

  Ruby swapped places with Emerald. Three vanished into the small copse of trees growing near the wall, leaping into the branches. Five meandered back into the building, arms not shaking at all.

  Ruby passed out too-heavy swords with blunted ends. My hand could barely hold the hilt, and I stumbled my way into the shade. Any archer would have to lean out to hit me there, catching Ruby’s gaze, and I hadn’t seen anyone in the other building. At least I’d be able to dodge.

  If my body did what I asked it. Ruby slowly led us through the motions of fighting—one parry and lunge, another parry, another lunge, a block. A stitch clawed at my sides with every twist, exhaustion scoured my calves clean off the bone with each step, and my head threatened to drift away on the breeze with every wavering thought. I couldn’t focus.

  “Weight off your front foot.” Ruby bowed over my feet, impossibly limber for a person his height, and he jerked me into the right position. “The lines from your heels should form a corner. Back leg and chest sideways, front foot forward.”

  There was no hiding my trembling with him so close. He tapped my right arm up.

  “What did you normally do during the day?” He slid a palm down my arm and forced my elbow to move. “Don’t lock up. You’ll drop your sword.”

  “Slept a lot. Worked the crowd when the market was busy.” I pushed myself through the first motion he’d shown u
s, body so light I’d float away if not for the heaviness in my stomach. Last time I’d felt this chilled in the warmth of autumn, I’d been sick and passed out on Rath’s feet. “If I was fighting or running, I’d sleep more and skip the crowds.”

  “You didn’t mention eating.”

  “Gets expensive.” I shifted back into the start position. “Real jobs go to kids with parents or all those old mages. They can afford to work for less. Could be a laborer, sure, but you can’t start that till you’re ten. Most get pulled into thieving young. They don’t let you leave. I got enough to keep me alive and stole enough to keep me strong. If I looked too well, Grell’d have felt threatened.”

  Grell only let me get away with being so good at fighting because my bouts brought in plenty of profit.

  Ruby made an odd sound in the back of his throat and smacked the sword out of my hands. It clattered to the ground between us.

  “Mediocre.”

  He moved to Eleven. Her stance was shaky as mine, and I yanked my sword off the ground. At least no one could see me flushing, heat racing up my cheeks at his words. I swallowed it down and watched him tear Eleven’s stance to pieces.

  What did it matter what I’d done? There weren’t jobs—with magic gone, a whole generation of mages lost their empire and flooded the world with jobless adults. The mages were adults who could afford to do whatever people wanted and already knew things, and they had all the right manners and money saved. Kids couldn’t compete with that. We scrounged for the fringe jobs no one wanted.

  I didn’t do much else because there wasn’t much else to do, and moving was the last thing I wanted to do after a night of fighting.

  I jabbed the air in front of me in time with Ruby’s call and scowled, fingers gripping the hilt so hard my knuckles strained against my gloves. Ruby hit my elbow.

  I didn’t drop my sword.

  Nearly disemboweled myself with recoil but small steps.