by Kara Jaynes
I clapped. “Was that magic?” It had all seemed so natural, almost animal-like.
Silvan laughed, obviously pleased by my reaction. “No,” he said. “I can work magic, but I’m not allowed to use it at will until I’m older, when I truly become one of the Elite.”
“When will you become one?”
“When I'm sixteen,” Silvan replied. He laughed, and it sounded shaky. “Provided everything goes well.”
I studied him, his words perplexing. “You’re very talented, Silvan. You’ll do amazing, I’m sure.”
He smiled at me. “You think so?”
“Of course.” I watched him, very curious about his magic. “What kind of spells do you cast?”
Silvan shook his head. “We don’t cast spells. That’s devilry. We only use instinctive magic.”
I took his hand, leading him over to a stone bench where we sat across from some rose bushes. “What’s the difference?”
“Well, for one, instinctive magic is already inside you. The abilities you project outward without any need for incantations or spells, is instinctive magic. It’s natural. Wild, sometimes, but natural.” His face shone with pride. “Mine’s strong. The strongest Master has ever seen. He told me so.”
“What is it?” I breathed. I felt awe, pride, and jealousy tangle inside of me. What must it be like to possess such power?
Silvan shook his silver head. “I won’t—can’t say.” He glanced at me hesitantly, his body tense. “But if you ever do see what I’m capable of, please . . . don’t be afraid. I would never hurt you.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of his statement, but I believed him. Silvan would never hurt me willingly. I knew that much.
Silvan stood. “I’ll come back when I can. I may have to stay away for a few days but I’ll be back again. I promise.” He smiled reassuringly.
“Okay.” I walked back to the wall with him, watching him climb up and disappear over the side. The light of day seemed to disappear when he left. I hoped he wouldn’t be gone too long.
7
Silvan
Time passed in a rhythmic blur. Morning. Night. Spring. Summer. Fall. Winter. Time with Glacia. Time with the Elite.
I threw myself into training. I still wasn't very good at meditation, so I tried to overcompensate in other areas to make up for my lack.
It was raining, the summer air thick and muggy, as I trained in the yard. The rest bell rang long ago. I ignored it. I could always rest later. I didn't seem to need sleep as much as the others, anyway. I thought my magical ability had something to do with it. My power. It frightened others. I was different, even from other Elite and trainees.
I grunted in irritation. Master was right. I needed to work harder at clearing my thoughts.
My sword blurred as I ducked and turned, executing a series of intricate movements. It was almost perfect. Almost.
Discipline. Persistence. Dedication.
My muscles ached. I clenched my teeth and continued my shadow fight, battling imaginary opponents as I flowed through the forms.
I spun on the ball of my foot, hoping to end the sequence smoothly, but I slipped on the slick cobblestones. A curse escaped my lips. I'd practiced this sequence a hundred times, and somewhere I'd always make a mistake.
“Almost perfect.” Master stood a few feet off to the side. I wasn't sure when he'd come. “But even an Elite needs his rest.”
I bowed low from the waist, showing my respect, and Master inclined his own head slightly in return.
“I almost have it,” I said. “I need to try it again.”
I turned away, moving smoothly into a defensive position. Block the Sun. Flow with the Wind. Storm's Rage. Every movement had a name, making it easier to remember the form.
As I approached the end, I felt a rush of anticipation. I'd perfected almost all of it. The final movement, Swan on Lake, loomed on my immediate horizon. I wanted to show the form to Glacia when I'd perfected it.
Glacia. Spinning around to finish the final movement, I put too much force into the movement, which threw me off balance.
I bit my lip, holding back the string of curses that begged to escape. “I just need to try again,” I mumbled. “Sorry.”
Master watched me for a moment, but as I moved into the first movement he held a hand out, halting me. “Walk with me,” he said.
I obeyed, putting my rain slicked wooden sword away. The damp and rain didn't seem to bother Master. It didn't bother me, either. I liked how it made me feel, clean and fresh.
We were nearly out of town before Master paused, overlooking the lowered range of the mountains before us. A thick mist had settled far below, making the rising tops of stone look like islands in a gray sea.
“Something is bothering you,” Master said. “What is it?”
I shrugged, trying to hide the alarm that sang through my body, making me tense like a taut bowstring. “I'm all right.”
Master was silent for a minute, gazing a little off to our left, and with a shudder I realized he was looking off in the direction of the Halls of the Chosen. Glacia's home. Did he know? Surely not. I had free reign of the mountains as a child, so my secret had been safe then. As I had grown, I’d taken extra care to keep her safe. He couldn't know.
Master sighed. “Silvan. At sixteen, you are easily the most skilled warrior in your age group. Age aside, you are one of the most gifted students I have ever trained. Your raw talent is awe-inspiring. When you put your mind to something, there isn't a force on this earth that can stop you from achieving your goal.”
He looked at me then, his dark gaze piercing. “And I have spent enough time around my students to know when one is trying to hide something.”
I hung my head, fear and guilt merging together to sour my stomach. I already knew what the Elite thought of women. They were unclean creatures, flighty and emotional, unable to shoulder the responsibilities that the Elite must. They also didn't have the ability to shift.
And, perhaps just as important, they were a distraction, one the Elite couldn't afford. Elite never married.
Maybe they were right. I didn't feel like my mind was focused like it should be. Glacia was a distraction.
A confusing, beautiful distraction, but still. She invaded my thoughts at all hours of the day, morning and night.
I bit my tongue, unable to spill my secret. Not yet.
As if reading my thoughts, Master patted me on the shoulder before turning away. “If you ever need to talk,” he said, “know that I am here. I am your Master, but I am also your friend.”
“Thank you, Master.” My voice was a cracked whisper. I clenched my fists, my fingernails digging into my palms.
“If you devote yourself to the Elite, to our cause,” Master said, “you will become the greatest Elite this world has ever seen. Between your determination and your magic, you would have no equal. Please understand this.”
I stood there long after night had fallen, long after Master had left, even after the rain had stopped falling, the damp enveloping me like a shroud. I felt my magic stirring within me, watching, waiting for me to release it. The home of the Elite had magical runes set up all around it, keeping those inside the wards from using magic. It extended well past the town, almost all the way to the Halls of the Chosen.
I inhaled sharply. I couldn't contain it. Not now, not after so long. I needed to free myself, release my energy. I needed to forget myself for a while. I needed to ignore my thoughts and my temptations. My desire.
I stepped off the edge of the cliff, bounding down the sharp incline. I didn't have any weapons. I didn't need any weapons. I was a weapon. I laughed aloud and increased my speed. I saw better than many, almost better than Daiki with his mountain cat vision.
When I reached the bottom, I bolted, running toward the Chosen, down the path that would take me to Glacia. Only I wasn't going to her. Not tonight. Not any night. The very thought made feel excited and afraid at the same time. No. Best if I only saw her in the da
ylight.
I ran past her home, not even pausing to peer over the wall, leaving her cold halls behind. I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Those halls were Glacia's prison. I had glimpsed into her life countless times. It astounded me to see that one could be surrounded by people, and yet be so utterly and completely alone. Isolated.
I could move her. Somewhere where she would be happy, like one of the lower range villages, but she wouldn't be as safe.
I couldn't decide what I valued more: her safety, or her happiness.
If something happened to her, I would die. I wasn't sure when it'd happened, but at some point in our friendship, Glacia had become excruciatingly important to me. To lose her would be like losing myself, the vital part of myself.
I came to a ravine, the bottom dropping away into misty nothingness. I felt the runes of the Elite fall away, exposing my magic. My power.
With a scream of triumph, I threw myself into the chasm, letting the magic roar to life, changing me.
I was alive.
I was free.
8
Glacia
“Fine.” Silvan exhaled through his nose. “I’ll take you out again.”
“Thank you.” I beamed at him.
“You’ll listen, right?” he said, his voice turning anxious. A wrinkle appeared on his forehead. “If I tell you to run, to jump, fight, anything, it’s because I want to keep you safe.”
I nodded. “Of course. I understand.”
Together, we scaled the wall. I paused and looked behind me at the little garden below, and beyond that, the door that led to my personal chambers. I had a break from school today, and Nanny wouldn’t come for a few hours yet, not until mealtime. She might even just leave the tray in my room without trying to find me. She did that often. I wouldn’t be missed.
Silvan walked boldly, and I followed, trying to remember the way. What if I ever needed to escape? I swallowed hard. The thought made me feel frightened and excited at the same time.
I stared at Silvan, suddenly aware that he had a weapon strapped across his back. “Is that a sword?” I asked incredulously.
“Yes.” Silvan didn’t turn around as he strode confidently forward.
“I’ve never seen you with a weapon before.”
“It’s mine,” Silvan declared proudly. “As an official Elite, it’s my weapon of choice.”
“What kind of weapons have you trained with?” I asked.
“Aside from the sword? Spear, bow, whip, hatchet, sabre, mace . . .”
As he went through an extensive list of weapons, we continued walking down the slope of the mountain, thick dry grass growing on either side of the trail. I tried to pull a stalk up while I walked, and yelped, drawing my hand away.
Silvan stopped talking at my cry and turned.
I stared stupidly at my hand. “I’m bleeding.”
The silver haired boy inspected the cut for the moment before tearing off a piece of his shirt along the hem. “Here.” He wound the strip of faded linen around my palm. “It’s not a deep cut. You’ll be fine.” We continued walking. He motioned to the wild vegetation on either side of us. “That type of grass is called razor’s edge. It’s thick and strong, and is likely to cut you if you pull on it.”
“Okay. Are we going back to the valley?” Silvan had taken me over the wall only a handful of times since that first venture, and each time we had gone to the same place.
“Not today,” Silvan said. He was quiet after that, and I was content to follow him down the wild trails. “Are you keeping track of where we’ve gone?” he asked suddenly.
I glanced about, feeling uncertain. “I think so?”
Silvan snickered. “You sound so sure of yourself.”
I glowered at his back. “Be fair, Silvan.”
His laughter faded. “You’re right,” he conceded. “I’m sorry.” He flung an arm toward the sky. “You can use the sun’s position to help keep your bearings. The stars, too, if it’s night.” He gave me a warning glance over his shoulder. “Don’t travel at night, though, unless it’s absolutely essential. You could tumble right off a cliff.”
“Am I going to be traveling soon?” I asked.
Silvan shrugged. “You should learn how to survive. You seem safe enough where you’re at,” he continued, “but what if that changes?” He peered about before taking a smaller side trail. “Best to be on the safe side.”
“It’s my birthday next week,” I said, then mentally cringed. That sounded embarrassingly self-focused.
“I know.” Silvan smiled back at me. “I won’t forget, Glacia.”
He came to an abrupt halt and I walked into him. “Oof!”
He didn’t move, staring straight ahead, his back stiff and straight. Standing on my tiptoes, I peered over his shoulder, my heartbeat skittering in alarm.
A woman stood facing us on the path ahead, head down and shoulders hunched. A cowl covered her head, greasy strands of matted blonde-gray hair hung down on either side of her face. She was thin, horribly so, her white hands almost skeletal.
She hummed to herself, seemingly unaware of us, the sound grating on my ears. She frightened me, but I couldn't say why.
“Ahhh.” The woman sighed, the sound fluttering in the air like a pennant in a breeze. “Shifter. I sense your power, boy. Give it to me.” A snake dropped from the shadow of her hood, slithering from sight into the grass. I stumbled away from the woman. “We should get back,” I said. My voice trembled. Where had that snake come from?
The woman lifted her head, pushing her cowl back, her beady black eyes trained on me. “And the Forgotten Crown. What a surprise.” She coughed, and several spiders spewed from her mouth.
A whimper welled in my throat. “I want to go home,” I whispered.
The woman cackled. “Home?” Another spider skittered from her lips. “What home? Your home is a stone cage.” Her eyes gleamed as they rested on Silvan. “And here is the key to your freedom.” She laughed again. A toad scrambled from her mouth.
Silvan growled, unsheathing his sword. “Begone, witch,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “You have no business here.”
“Do I not?” She sighed, seemingly oblivious to the lizard that fell out of her mouth. “I’ve come for you, boy.” Darkness seemed to radiate from her like heat, seeping into me. I shook my head, feeling dizzy.
“Glacia.” Silvan’s voice was urgent. “Can you find your own way home?”
“I-I think so.” I wasn’t sure at all, but I’d go just about anywhere to escape this woman.
The woman leaped at Silvan with a shriek.
“Run!” Silvan shouted, and leaped to meet the witch head-on. I took off running, my heartbeat thundering in my ears. I scrambled up the slope with all the speed I could manage, praying to the heavens that Silvan would be kept safe. I knew I should turn around and try to help, but my legs wouldn’t cooperate.
I wasn’t sure how long I ran, or even if I was running in the right direction, but I knew that I was getting further away from the witch, and that was what mattered.
A deep roar reverberated among the rocks from behind me, and I stumbled and fell, trying to stifle a scream. Had the witch summoned a beast to destroy Silvan?
I huddled on the dirt trail, tears building on my lashes. I had to go back. I had to help him. But what could I do?
It didn’t matter. I would find a way. I began running back down the trail, hoping I wasn’t completely lost.
Another roar split the air, and I instinctively cowered, crouching down with my arms about my head. A great monster of some sort. What could Silvan do against such a creature?
When the sound faded away I stood and began to move. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to take step after step. I would master my fear.
Turning a sharp bend, I almost ran right into Silvan.
He skidded to a halt and looked at me with wild eyes. “What are you doing?” he yelled. “Come on!” He gripped my wrist, spun me around, and ran. I had to
keep up or be dragged.
“Is she dead?” I panted. “Is she coming after us?”
“I think she’s dead,” Silvan replied. His brow was lowered in a scowl. “I think. You can never tell with witches, though. They’re a tricky sort.”
“What about the beast?” I gasped. A stitch was forming in my side, making it hard to move. “Did she summon a beast?”
Silvan chuckled darkly. “Oh, she summoned one, all right.”
He wouldn’t say more after that, and it was all I could do to keep up with his lanky strides.
When we drew near the garden wall, he released my wrist, and I collapsed in an exhausted heap, my sides heaving.
Silvan crouched next to me, arms resting on his thighs. “If you’d listened to me and stayed away, you wouldn’t be so tired.”
He’d told me to run. “I did listen,” I panted. Sort of. I would have swatted him if I’d had the energy. I settled for glaring at him instead.
He arched a silver brow at me. “What were you doing, coming back, anyway?”
I looked away. “I wanted to help you.”
Silvan didn’t say anything until I looked back at him. I expected him to scoff, but his expression had softened. “Glacia,” he said, his voice kind. “That witch would have had you for dinner. Literally.”
I nodded, not saying anything else. He was right. From the little I had read about them, witches were human in appearance, but were different in many ways, especially with their cannibalistic tendencies. Despite that knowledge, I knew I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if I had let him die. Alone.
“Come on.” He nudged my shoulder with his. “Let’s get you home.”
I nodded wordlessly and he helped me scale the wall, once more entering my little garden.
It was little. It had seemed bigger when I was younger, but it seemed to shrink in size every day. I exhaled heavily, not looking at Silvan.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, eyeing me closely, but I shook my head. How could I explain my feelings to him, when I didn’t understand them myself? They tumbled about, like leaves caught in a storm. I felt safer here in my garden, but I didn’t want to be here. That when he left, the hollow feeling in my stomach would return. That I went back to help him because if the witch had killed him, what was the point of—