Voice of Dominion (The Spoken Mage Book 3)

by Melanie Cellier

  The thought gave me no joy, and I wished I could talk to my friends about it. But I had never wanted to burden them with my fears. Especially when I had no proof.

  The arrival of Finnian and Saffron at breakfast the next morning cheered me up, however.

  “Welcome, welcome, welcome.” Coralie bounced over to Saffron and gave her an enthusiastic hug. When she turned to Finnian, however, she paused, almost imperceptibly. He didn’t seem to notice, swooping her up and spinning her around before putting her back on her feet. He turned immediately to me and did the same thing.

  “Someone’s awfully happy to be back in class,” I said. “Terrible up north, was it?”

  I rolled my eyes at the other two girls, and Saffron shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. Coralie smiled as well, a beat late, before taking a seat at one of the third year tables. I watched her with narrowed eyes, but I couldn’t say anything in front of the others, so I simply sat down beside her.

  “Cutting it a bit fine,” I said to the Callinos cousins. “When did you get in?”

  “Last night, late,” said Saffron, filling her plate with enthusiasm from the platters a servant had already delivered. “Our families wanted us to stay until the last possible moment.”

  “Was your father home for the summer then?” I asked Finnian, aware that his father’s role as Head of the Healers often took him away from their northern home in Torcos.

  “For a few weeks. But it was my mother who wanted me to stay.” He smiled at us all. “It wasn’t too bad, though, since I had Saffron to keep me company.”

  “Finnian’s estate is about twice the size of ours,” said Saffron. “I think Aunt Helene gets lonely. Plus my mother has a number of health concerns, so we often spend as much as half the year there. They’re sisters,” she explained to me, “and they both married into Callinos, so they’ve always been close.”

  That explained why Finnian and Saffron were so close—more like siblings than cousins.

  “It’s sweet that they love you so much and didn’t want to miss any time with you,” said Coralie.

  “More like anxious than sweet.” Finnian frowned. “It’s these rumors of the front line, they have them on edge.”

  “Is it true?” Saffron directed the question at me. “The third and fourth years are to go to the front lines to train?”

  I shrugged, raising both hands. “Don’t look at me.”

  “I thought you spent most of the summer here training with Lorcan,” said Finnian. “Coralie wrote to us about it.”

  I directed a curious look at my friend, but she didn’t meet my eyes, her attention firmly focused on her plate.

  “I wasn’t the one asking the questions,” I said. “But—” I hesitated. “If you want my guess, I think it’s true. There must have been an officer here visiting with Lorcan once a week over the summer. The colonel from the main training barracks even came herself several times.”

  “What? Colonel Jennica?” Finnian raised both eyebrows. “Then it must be true. What else would Lorcan need her for?” He glanced around the table at us. “No one else has more experience with raw recruits.”

  When none of us responded, he pointed his fork at each of us, ending with himself. “That’s us. The raw recruits. If you didn’t pick it up.”

  “We got it, thank you,” said Coralie, in a voice of long-suffering.

  Finnian looked at her with a gleam in his eyes, but his response was lost in the sound of the bell. At least half of the trainees remained in the dining hall, so we weren’t the only ones caught off guard. Obviously many of our fellow trainees were having the same difficulty as us getting back into the rhythm of our usual schedule.

  And one trainee had yet to show up at the Academy at all. But I was determinedly not thinking of him, so I pushed the thought back with all the other thoughts I was determinedly not thinking.

  “Ugh, Thornton will have us all running extra laps now,” said Saffron as we rushed out to the training yards behind the Academy. Our combat instructor had no patience with tardiness.

  “You’re forgetting,” said Finnian with a grin. “Thornton will be with the first years this week. We’re in the clear.”

  “You’d better watch out, Finn,” said Saffron with a shake of her head. “The junior instructors for the third years might not find you as charming as the second year instructors did.”

  “Impossible.” He placed his hand on his heart as if wounded while winking at Coralie and me.

  I groaned but smiled back at him. Coralie, on the other hand, just looked away. Finnian watched her, a slight crease between his brows, but we arrived at the yard before any further words were exchanged.

  As Finnian had predicted, the junior instructor accepted our late arrival without complaint and soon had us running the normal number of warm up laps. I moderated my pace and let our two Callinos friends draw ahead.

  “What is going on with you?” I whispered to Coralie.

  “What do you mean?” She tried to sound innocent, but she still wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  “You’ve gotten weird ever since Finnian and Saffron arrived.” I prodded her lightly. “Well, let’s be honest, I don’t think it’s Saffron that’s the issue.”

  Dariela passed us, her long legs having already lapped us around the yard. I fell silent for a moment until she continued on out of ear shot.

  “You wrote to them over the summer?”

  Coralie flushed. “Remember how they stayed on for a couple of extra days after you left to come back here after my birthday?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, Finnian and I might have…well, we might have kissed.” She finished the sentence in a rush.

  “What!?” I squawked the word so loudly I drew a reprimand from our instructor and quickly lowered my voice again. Thank goodness we didn’t have Thornton today since he would never have countenanced our obvious distraction, and this wasn’t a story I could wait to hear.

  “You and Finnian. Kissed! We’ve been together for over a week now, and you never told me! Coralie!”

  “Sorry!” She grimaced at me apologetically. “I didn’t know what to say. It’s not like we’re a couple now.” Her eyes strayed over to where Finnian ran effortlessly beside Calix. “At least, I don’t think. He never said anything about…”

  “I’m going to smack him around the head.” I glared in his direction.

  “No!” Coralie turned and grabbed my arm, slowing our pace enough to earn another rebuke from the instructor. We both sped up, but she kept her pleading eyes fixed on me.

  “Don’t say anything to him. Please don’t. It was just a summer kiss. And I’m going to go back to being normal and all of us friendly just like always. I just…Seeing him again…I need a day to adjust.”

  “I thought you liked Edmond,” I hissed.

  “I do, he’s very nice. But it was never serious between us. Or anything at all, really. I haven’t even seen him since your birthday celebrations last spring.”

  “So, if you like Finnian now, why does it have to go back to like it was before?” I asked, more confused than ever.

  We slowed down as we approached the end of the final lap.

  “Because it wasn’t serious with Finnian either. We spend all day together every day here. If we tried being a couple, and it didn’t work…” She shook her head. “Better to wait and leave serious relationships for after we graduate. Finnian feels the same way. I swear.”

  She dropped her voice and threw me a conspiratorial smile. “I’d just forgotten how utterly delicious he is to look at.”

  I raised both eyebrows at her, and she giggled. Rolling my eyes, I let a smile tug up one corner of my mouth.

  “I suppose he is easy enough to look at,” I whispered as we joined the others. “But don’t think you’re getting out of telling me every single detail later.”

  I gave her a mock glare, and she laughed at me. I turned away, a smile lingering on my own lips, only to find a pair of brilliant green eye
s fixed on my face.

  Lucas looked away quickly, but my smile had already disappeared. Why was it suddenly hard to breathe? I had to restrain my hands from reaching for my throat. Where had all the clear air gone?

  The instructor ordered us to begin a series of stretching exercises, and I fell into place, a step behind everyone else. Suddenly Coralie’s behavior made all too much sense.

  Finnian was handsome, with his golden skin, twinkling eyes, and dark, silky hair—but he couldn’t compare with our prince. I had thought I could perfectly recall his image, but I found now I had forgotten something of the breadth of his shoulders. Not to mention the intensity of his eyes, or the way his dark hair framed his strong features.

  Or maybe it wasn’t the way he looked at all, but an ineffable something in the way he carried himself. All I knew was that despite thinking of little else for days, I wasn’t in the least prepared to be standing mere feet away from him again.

  Coralie had claimed she only needed a day to adjust. I could only hope I regained my equilibrium that quickly. I had positioned myself behind him and to one side, but my eyes must have been burning into his back because he turned to glance at me, his eyes going straight to mine.

  This time I was the one to quickly look away. I wished I could read his expression, but I had never been much good at that, and when I dared to look again, I could see only a sliver of the side of his face. But it was enough to know his usual court mask was back in place.

  At least the exercise could be blamed for the flush on my face. Although with the way Natalya was watching me with narrowed eyes, I should probably be working on my own impassive expression.

  “You’ll begin in the arena tomorrow.” The instructor’s words broke through the haze that had taken over my mind, and I looked up quickly. So soon?

  At her announcement, every trainee in the year—save one—turned to look at me. I glanced from left to right, wondering if I’d missed a question directed at me, but the instructor continued on with further details of our weekly schedule, and gradually they all looked away.

  I slunk down into myself. Of course. The last time we had all been in the arena I had done the impossible and defeated the two strongest trainees in our year with a single word composition. I had almost let the familiar environment of the Academy make me forget. My status had changed. I was a wonder. An impossibility. A weapon. In a kingdom trapped in a decades-old war.

  I dreaded finding myself back in the arena with my year mates. I had actually enjoyed the days my training with Lorcan took me there. Stretching my power to its fullest extent against the strongest of opponents had been more satisfying than I anticipated. But in truth, my year mates could no longer challenge me. And even the prospect of pummeling Natalya or Weston held no appeal. Not when we would be so unevenly matched.

  The thought bothered me all the way back to the Academy building, and I trailed behind my friends, too lost in the turmoil of my own thoughts to contribute any coherence to their conversation. But voices from several steps behind me broke through my perturbation.

  “You’re late,” said Calix to whoever he walked with.

  “I had royal business to attend to.”

  I sucked in a breath, my posture stiffening and then slumping again as I told myself to act naturally. Little hope of that, it seemed. I just wished I knew if he was affected the same way. And also if my emotions were broadcast across my face—I wasn’t sure I could bear the humiliation, if so.

  “Will Their Majesties permit you to accompany us to the front lines?” Calix asked after a moment’s silence.

  “Of course.” Lucas sounded faintly surprised. “I’m a third year and must complete the required course work just like everybody else.”

  “I’m surprised old Thaddeus hasn’t put his foot down and forbidden it.” I could hear the mocking smile in Calix’s voice. I should recognize it since it had been directed at me often enough.

  “Who says he hasn’t tried?” If there was amusement in Lucas’s voice, it was harder to detect. “But since it’s his duty to protect me, the Head of the Royal Guard could hardly advocate for my failing the Academy.”

  I knew he wasn’t serious, but just the idea made me shiver. For my year mates, failure meant incarceration. And the vision of Lucas in chains made me want to cry. He was already bound enough by his birth and position, never free to follow his own inclinations. I had only seen his true intensity and power break through his careful mask a handful of times, and it had always taken my breath away. Normally he kept it tightly under control. If only he could truly be free.

  I risked a single glance back at them. Utter foolishness. Lucas smiled lightly at General Griffith’s son—the closest anyone in his world came to being his equal—the image of royal privilege and confidence.

  If he saw me looking, he gave no sign. Instead it was Calix who met my eyes this time, and what I saw there unnerved me almost as much as Lucas’s presence. Because it wasn’t disgust. Or anger. It carried no threat that I could perceive. Instead his gaze looked considering, almost as if it asked something of me.

  And that felt more threatening than anything else.

  I sped up, joining my friends and driving them on faster. Coralie glanced behind us once, but when she saw who followed us, she made no protest at the quicker pace. And later when we shared cups of tea in her suite and giggled about Finnian, she asked me no questions, for which I blessed her. Our friend we could laugh and joke about, but the prince was out of bounds. In every way that mattered.

  Chapter 6

  The next morning I remembered to let my friends know that the rumors about our trip to the front lines were true. As son of the Head of the Armed Forces, Calix would know. The topic occupied us all on the walk outside, but we fell silent as we crossed into the arena and took our places just outside the bubble of power that always enclosed the arena floor.

  To our surprise, Thornton awaited us. He usually spent at least the first week with the new first years, but he offered no explanation for his presence, and no greeting for the new year. Instead he announced that the first bout would be a display exercise between Lucas and me.

  Every muscle in my body seized, and I might not have made it to my feet without Coralie’s prodding. Slowly I climbed down the stairs from where I had been sitting in the tiered arena seating. Was Thornton trying to torment me?

  The sad answer was probably yes. At least based on his past behavior.

  But when I reached the rough arena floor, I realized Lucas had made no move to step into place for a bout, and his sword remained sheathed at his side. He stood expectantly in front of Thornton, his focus on our instructor. I joined him, trying to pretend I wasn’t acutely aware that we stood so close our arms almost brushed against each other.

  Thornton handed us each a parchment, and I scanned it with furrowed brows. Slowly they lifted as I skimmed down the paragraphs. It was possibly the longest composition I had ever seen, taking up both sides of a full parchment.

  The nature of our bout became clear as I deciphered the intention behind the working. Lucas, on the other hand, displayed no surprise—likely he had already been aware that our studies were to look a little different this year.

  Thornton directed us both where to stand, one on each side of the small section of seating taken up by our year mates.

  “For the purpose of the display, please talk at a sufficient volume for all to hear,” he said. “You will release the compositions on my mark.”

  I frowned at him even as my hands gripped the parchment, ready to rip. Did he think Lorcan had already prepared me, as Lucas had clearly been prepared? Or did he hope for me to fail?

  But he had called this a demonstration bout, which meant he intended everyone to learn something from it. And if there was one thing Thornton cared about, it was preparing his trainees for the front lines. He wouldn’t waste a composition like this on humiliating me.

  “Mark,” he called, and I ripped the long parchment in half, letting
the pieces flutter to the ground in front of me. They glowed a hazy green as five life-size figures—a little fuzzy and indistinct, but clearly human in form—sprang into existence. Three men and two women, all dressed in green uniforms, arrayed themselves in a defensive position around a green crown that rested on the arena floor some distance away. Two carried bows and quivers of arrows, and the remaining three clutched spears and small round shields.

  Across the empty arena, five equally transparent figures dressed in yellow formed a ragged line.

  “Advance on the crown,” called Lucas, in a loud voice, as instructed.

  “Archers, shoot when ready,” I called to my own troops.

  Each of my archers obediently drew their bows, waiting for the yellow uniformed figures to come into range of their arrows. I glanced across at Lucas. Surely he did not mean to send his soldiers marching in a row to their deaths?

  But he pulled a much smaller parchment from a pocket in his white robe and ripped it. Instantly a roiling dark smoke filled the space between our opposing forces, washing over and entirely obscuring his transparent troops.

  I narrowed my eyes. Unlike real people, his counterfeit soldiers had no need to breathe and were presumably undisturbed by the screen he had created. Meanwhile my own archers had let their bows drop uselessly to their sides and stood motionless, awaiting further instruction.

  An arrow flew from the smoke and cut down one of my spear-wielding men. He toppled over before dissipating into nothingness. I ground my teeth, my mind racing as I tried to think of a relevant composition.

  Almost fumbling the binding words in my haste to speak them, I muttered a composition to clear smoke. Thornton might have instructed us to speak loudly, but no one could read what Lucas had put on his parchment, and I didn’t intend to be disadvantaged.

  My power rushed out, pushing the smoke with it, and as soon as the yellow figures re-emerged, my two archers drew their bows again, firing arrows with perfect aim. Two of Lucas’s soldiers went down, and he called loudly for a retreat.

  His next composition sent a small forest sprouting out of the earth, providing cover between his troops and mine. I called for mine to close in more tightly around the crown, forming into a semi-circle facing toward the new greenery.