by Lisa Morrow
Her smile faltered. “I could slice a man’s throat in his sleep without making a single noise by the time I was your age.” She gazed at something unseen. “Killing is far better than being killed, remember that Clarissa.”
This wasn’t the first time during our training session that she’d seemed to disappear to another place. Trapped somewhere in her memories, I imagined.
Something uncomfortable stirred in my belly. This woman must have seen and experienced some awful things to have her mind so badly twisted.
Her gaze snapped back to me with all the impact of a cold sword resting against my throat. “I think they’re wrong about you. I don’t think you’re special.”
I looked back at her, unflinching. “You’re probably right.”
She seemed not to hear me. “My mother was the best assassin that ever lived, but I couldn’t even kill the woman who ordered her death.” She sucked in a deep, noisy breath. “The daughter of a woman destined for greatness could be no more important than a child whose sole purpose is to muck out horse stables.”
“Is that why they think I’m going to end this war? Because of my mother?”
She didn’t answer my question. “I knew your mother. She was a self-righteous creature who thought nothing in this world was more important than her husband and precious daughter. I wonder how she’d feel to see you here now?”
I ignored the venom in her voice. “My mother spoke to you about me?”
Spitting on the floor, she sneered. “You’re just like her. I hope you know that.”
Her words weren’t meant to be a compliment, but I suppressed a smile all the same. There was something about Clarissa’s prickly exterior and strangeness that made her fun to annoy, even though I was careful to not be too obvious about it. I had no desire to see what she’d do to me if I pushed her too far.
“How did she do?”
I jumped slightly, clamping my lips to stop another groan.
Blair hovered in the threshold of the door, wearing a tan dress, so pale it was almost white. Her hair had been styled into a simple, low bun, rather than left to flow about her shoulders. It made her look older. Her high cheekbones looked less elegant and more like the result of a woman who’s seen too few meals.
I imagined what it would be like to make the kind of decisions she had to… I might skip a few meals too.
Clarissa didn’t look at the Head Protector as she answered. “She isn’t the worst recruit, but she’s not good.”
“No matter,” Blair said, with a wave of her hand. “Her powers don’t require her to be.”
Anger flashed across Clarissa’s face. “Then, why am I wasting my time?”
Blair stilled. “Because I told you to. Now leave us.”
The warrior sauntered out of the room, pausing in the doorway to throw me one last look that said you’ll pay for her embarrassing me.
A moment later, I was left alone with Blair.
Her silver eyes took in my crumpled form. “Stand up.”
I doubted I could, but the last thing I wanted was for her to know that. So I struggled to my feet with all the grace of a newborn deer, fighting back the overwhelming urge to simply lie down and sleep.
She watched me in silence, neither pleasure nor pity twisting her expression. “Oryens’ Potion greatly sped up your recovery after the battle. Had you not taken it, there would have been several days or perhaps weeks spent resting and recovering both your body and powers after such an extreme usage of your magic.”
I winced as I leaned against the glass wall, too tired to care much about her warning. “So what do you plan to teach me?”
She pushed up her long sleeves. “Why to use your powers, of course, what else. Now let’s get to it. Which goddesses’ names do you know?”
Reluctantly, I confessed that I knew just the two.
Surprise flickered across her face, then disappeared. “Somehow I imagined you knew more, and yet, usually it requires a desperate situation to learn a goddess’s name. You are young to have experienced too many.”
My heartbeat sped up. “So learning how to use my powers might be dangerous?”
She shook her head. “No, because you have me to teach you.”
“How many names do you know?”
She waved my question away. “Not important. My time is valuable, and so we must get on with our lessons. Today, I will teach you the name of Nyxus, the Goddess of Night’s, name.”
As much as I longed to learn my magic, I was exhausted. “Can’t we learn it another day?”
“No. There isn’t enough time already to prepare you before the next wizard attack. Now, repeat after me. Nyxus.”
For the next hour, I tried to repeat the name exactly how she spoke it, with no luck. Blair showed no signs of frustration, which only made me more so. It hurt to stand. It hurt to speak. I couldn’t even lift my arms, they ached so thoroughly. Why was she making me do this now? I’m sure I’d do better after a little rest.
Finally, I sagged to the floor. “Why does this name matter anyway?”
A smile curled her lips. “You know that speaking the name is only half of what our magic requires. The second thing you must do is imagine what you hope to accomplish with the spell… not that things always go as you plan.” She took a deep breath. “Now, watch. Nyxus.”
Warmth exploded from her in a wave.
The room was swallowed by darkness.
No, not just darkness. It was as if I’d been dropped down a well, so far down that I couldn’t see the light from the opening. This kind of darkness was suffocating. I gasped in ragged, painful breaths.
“Okay. Enough.”
Blair said nothing.
Fear seized me. Was she even there? I turned my head left and right, seeing nothing. My ears strained to pick up even the smallest sound, just a hint that I wasn’t alone in this overwhelming darkness.
“Blair?”
Still nothing.
I started crawling in the direction of the stairs, moving slowly. I kept going until the top of my head hit a wall. Running my hand along the mirrored walls, I crawled on, but after several minutes of darkness and silence a terrifying realization struck me. There was no way out. Blair had trapped me here.
The room started to close in around me.
I needed to get out, and to get out I needed to see.
“Nyxus,” I gasped out. Wrong, all wrong.
Over and over I tried, without luck.
Finally, I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the panic threatening to swallow me. Blair had spoken the name softly, as if a whisper in the dark, like the wind sweeping through the leaves. I needed to say it the same way and imagine the darkness lifting. Otherwise…
“Nyxus.”
My skin tingled as warmth rushed over it, and I sensed a giant exhaling sharply. When I opened my eyes, light had returned to the room.
Blair stood in the center, a look of immense satisfaction on her face. “So now you must see how learning such a name may be of use to you.”
My lips curled. “That was cruel.”
She shrugged. “If you can’t learn the names through simple instruction, there are faster ways to learn. Remember that.”
I tilted slowly to my side and lay down on the cold stone floor. Exhaustion of mind, body, and magic left me too drained to do anything but blink slowly.
Blair swept across the floor and stopped beside the stairs. “You did well today, Rose. I have no doubt you’ll be ready for whatever you must face, when the time comes.”
Closing my eyes, I listened to her footsteps patter down the stairs.
I’d show her and them all.
When I could get up.
I had no idea how much time had passed when someone kicked me, but I forced my eyes open.
“Rough training today?” A blonde-haired giant of a woman asked me.
I grunted.
“Well,” she laughed. “I’m Thea, captain of our troops, and I need the training room. Think you can
get up?”
Closing my eyes again, I mumbled, “you may have to practice around me.”
She laughed again, the sound grating on my ears. “I hate to tell you this, darling, but it only gets worse from here.”
That was exactly what I was afraid of.
Chapter Seventeen
I spent three long weeks in The Glass Castle searching for Asher, with no luck, and training until I was too exhausted to move. At first I felt as if I was being tortured or tested, but as my strength and abilities grew, I accepted reality. In being trained by these powerful women, I’d been given a precious gift.
Yet, no matter how exhausted I was, Asher’s face still haunted me, keeping me awake at night.
If I closed my eyes, I could see the sharp angles of his strong jaw line, and the memory of his crooked smile, so out of place on a face that seemed unaccustomed to happiness. His blond hair, shooting out at the top of his head, and smooth on the sides, would’ve been laughable on anyone else. But on him, it was as distinctive and fitting as his earthy scent.
But there was more. Sometimes in the silence of night, I thought I heard his heartbeat, or the sound of his breathing. I sensed him in a way I’d never sensed another human being before. I even thought I could feel his loneliness… his regrets.
Those times left tears gathering in my eyes. It was as if he was with me, if only for a few seconds, then gone again just as fast.
So that morning, I awoke early to bathe, in my usual misery. As always, more tired than when I’d first laid down. But no matter how hard I washed, I couldn’t free myself of the guilt that clung relentlessly to me, weighing down my every step.
Asher had been captured because of me. It was my responsibility to get him free. Even if he was a wizard.
And Sirena’s barrette still rested in my hair, a constant reminder, if I needed one, that her life rested in my hands. Goddesses, I hoped that Sirena had been right when she thought it would bring us good luck, because so far it had done quite the opposite.
When I ascended the stairs and reached the practice room, I was in no mood to fight off either Clarissa or Meisha. But luckily, the room was empty. Already winded from the climb, I leaned against the wall at the top of the stairs, more tired mentally than physically.
I knew it was my thoughts of Asher and Sirena draining my energy. For even though being a farmer had made me strong, it hadn’t given me the kind of strength I’d developed these past weeks. To endure. To push past exhaustion. To ignore pain. These were things Meisha and Clarissa taught me… and far more than I ever expected about life.
The sun light shining off the many mirrors stung my eyes, and I closed them against the brightness. Even though my body held a strange kind of power now, both physical and magically, my aching head reminded me that I still had weaknesses.
“You’re here early.”
I whirled to find Blair on the stairs below me.
Moving further into the room, and out of her way, I pressed my back against the wall, my mind whirling. Usually Blair sent a missive on the days she could instruct me in magic. Her time, she explained, was very valuable. So what could’ve brought her here today?
She walked to the window, wearing a gray dress the same smoky shade as her eyes. Her porcelain skin looked almost translucent as it peeked out from the sweeping neckline and long, fluid sleeves. Her loose hair spilled down her back like a curtain, giving femininity to the woman who held herself like a warrior.
“Clarissa and Meisha tell me your training is going well.”
I shrugged, even though she wasn’t looking at me. “They’ve tried their hardest, but I’m still no great warrior.”
And it was true. Meisha fought me in both animal and human form, teaching me a style of fighting that was almost a dance. Clarissa, on the other hand, taught me to use weapons, and to combat nearly any kind of attack. Even though her methods bordered on cruelty, I no longer thought she did it out of anger. It was simply her way of giving me the best shot at survival. But even with all their hard work, I still left practices battered and bruised each day.
“It’s not important that you’re a great warrior. It’s just important you learn.” She turned, piercing me with her stare. “Some of us have powers that lend themselves towards fighting, others do not.”
I agreed with her, but I was also very thankful for Clarissa’s and Meisha’s training. Learning how to use a dagger, a sword, and my own body to fight was just as useful as learning my magic. Maybe more so.
“There isn’t much time left.” Blair looked me up and down, frowning. “What names have you learned so far?”
I nibbled my bottom lip. The way she asked the question… she was evaluating me, and I didn’t like it.
“Artemay, the Goddess of Protection,” I began, counting her name on my finger.
“Yes, but you knew that one already,” Blair interrupted.
“Demetria, the Goddess of the Harvest.” I raised another finger, smiling. It’d been satisfying to bring green, crisp leaves to all the trees surrounding the castle. Even though it hadn’t lasted long.
“And,” Blair prodded, annoyance lacing the word.
I shot her a look. Why make me name them, if she felt it wasted her time?
“Promethia, the Goddess of Fire and Blacksmiths.” I counted this name too, even as Blair interrupted me.
“You knew that one already too.”
I glared. “Should I stop?”
She waved her hand. “No, no, go on then.” But, she’d begun hurriedly pacing along the floor.
“Nyxus, the Goddess of Night.” I counted another one. “Chrona, the Goddess of Time.” Slowing down time had been fun. But when it’d sped up to get back to the right time, my stomach had twisted so terribly, I’d emptied my lunch on the training room floor.
Every name had consequences.
I swallowed hard and raised another finger. “Nyxus’s sister, the Goddess of Shadows.” Wrapping myself in a cloak of shadows had been exciting, but learning to see through the shadows had been difficult to master, and very draining.
“Aetnai, Goddess of Volcanoes,” I counted, “and Athenia, Goddess of War.” Both names still sent chills running down my spine. Blair had helped me to control them, but otherwise… well, I never wanted to use either name again.
“Anaka, Goddess of Necessity.” The name hadn’t done much, but Blair had assured me if I was ever in desperate need, the names would come in very handy.
“And,” Blair said, stopping her pacing to cast me a hurried glance.
I hesitated for a moment, “Arodite, Goddess of Love.” Another name I didn’t like. The name’s affects were only temporary, but the thought that I could make two people love each other, if only for a few hours, seemed both unnecessary and wrong.
“And how many is that?” Blair asked, still pacing.
“Eleven.” I took a deep breath. “I’ve learned all the most powerful names, but not the names I think would be most helpful.”
She stopped her pacing, her back to me.
I pressed on. “Zeuita is the Goddess of all Goddess, the Goddess of the Living. She should be the most important name to know.” I paused. “And Hadia is the Goddess of the Dead. Her name should be really useful in the war.” I paused again, but she neither turned nor responded. “And Perseia, the Goddess of Destruction. I’m sure using her name has terrible consequences, but I should probably know it.”
Blair turned toward me. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, but instead of looking angry, she looked small and vulnerable. “I won’t teach you The Goddess of Destruction’s name. If you ever learn it, it’ll be because you had no other choice.” She stared at the ground. “And I’m not allowed to use Zeuita and Hadia’s names, so you’ll have to learn them with someone else, another time.”
The pain in her words caught me off-guard. “Not allowed?”
“I won’t discuss it,” she said, curtly. “Besides, we have more important things to worry about.”
Straightening, she dropped her arms and gazed at me, all traces of pain gone. “In the last three weeks, you’ve learned that your powers are both a blessing and a curse. Sometimes unexpected things happen when you call upon the goddesses, sometimes things that can get others, or yourself, injured or killed.” She took a deep breath, running her hands over the front of her dress, as if to compose herself. “And you’ve learned that some names can leave you feeling as weak as a baby… something that could cost you your life on the battlefield.”
“Yes.” I could tell she had something to say, so why was she hesitating?
“Do you have any other questions?”
I thought for a moment. Of course I had lots of questions, but most of them she wouldn’t answer.
But maybe she would, if I worked my way up to them. “I was just wondering why all of our powers are so different.”
“It’s our bloodlines. Which goddesses gave our ancestors their gifts.”
I frowned. “And which ones gave us our gifts?”
“Zeuita, of course, The Goddess of all Goddesses.”
Taking a deep breath, I finally asked one of the questions that’s been plaguing me. “So why don’t we ask her for help against the Undead wizards?”
Her lips pulled into a grim line. “Don’t you think I have?”
Of all her answers, this was the one I expected the least. “Did she hear your prayers? Or ignore them?”
Blair turned back to the open window, then spoke, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “Hadia is her sister. She will not go against her.”
“Then, why do we keep fighting if we can’t win?”
“Because we can’t afford to lose.”
Silence swallowed the room.
After several long minutes, she spoke again. “I’ve come to teach you a new name. It is the name of the Goddess of the Lost, Antona. You heard me speak it before, but you were not concentrating on the way it must be spoken then.”
She was right. Guilt and fear had torn at me the day she’d shown me the consequences of my actions. It was impossible to forget all the lives that’d been lost during the battle with the wizards. Because of me alone.