Sorcerous Rivalry (The Mage-Born Chronicles Book 1)

by Kayleigh Nicol

  The sailor chortled. “We’re none of us navigators and we’ve some coins to toss. Come sit with us, friend.”

  I sighed. “Just a toss or two, I suppose.” I winked at the bar wench for her assist as I followed the sailor back to his table. The glance back also showed me that Kestral had sat back down with his . . . friend? Soldier? Former lover? I shoved the questions aside as I sat down with the sailors, grinning as I set my dice on the table.

  Clusters was a fairly simple dice game. The roller chose how many dice to toss and the other players tried to guess how many constellations would form from the pips and the position of the dice. Whoever guessed the correct number of constellations won the pot, but if no one guessed correctly, the tosser won. As with any game of chance, the players bluffed each other into both the shapes and names of the constellations; you really had to know your stars to win.

  Or if you didn’t, you had to be extremely convincing.

  The sailors and I started by tossing only three dice, trading coins back and forth good-naturedly. Eventually, we added a fourth die, then much later, I let them convince me to add a fifth. The wench kept my drink refilled at no cost, happy now that the sailors were interested in something other than her. Across the room, Kestral kept an eye on me, probably making sure I didn’t lose all our money.

  “One more die, Remi!” a sailor begged. “Give us a chance to win our coin back!”

  “Your ears have gone swimming! I’m barely staying afloat over here!” I laughed. Of course, I was winning—and by a lot more than they realized, as I had been slipping coins off the table using sleight of hand—but I was careful to let the sailors think they had a fighting chance. The wench had kept their ale topped off, and while I’d slacked on drinking mine, they had become drunk enough not to notice how little coin was left on the table. “All right, one six-dice toss, but everything goes into the pot.”

  I scooped up the dice while the sailors shoved their coins into the center, forming a ring with the scattered coins. The dice all had to fall within the circle of coins to count as a legal throw. I rattled the dice as the ring completed. “What are the calls?”

  “Fourteen!”

  “Sixteen!” two men called it at the same time. If they were right, they would split the pot.

  “Nineteen!” one bold man called.

  “Twenty-five.”

  The table fell silent. We hadn’t noticed Kestral or his shadow-skinned friend step up to the table. The stranger reached over the table and dropped three gold coins. It was a high call and a high wager. The sailors suddenly looked nervous. Finally, the big one laughed.

  “That’s a ridiculous call, but we’ll take your money. Drop the dice, tosser!”

  I stretched out my wrist, letting the dice rattle. I caught Kestral’s eye and casually tapped my inner left wrist, the spot where Kestral had his liar’s brand. He stared back at me, quirking an eyebrow. With a shake of my head, I tilted my hand and let the dice fall.

  The table went quiet as we counted up the constellations.

  “I count fifteen.”

  “No, sixteen! See here!”

  “There’re easily nineteen, open your eyes!”

  “Twenty-five.” Kestral’s friend spoke softly, but it immediately quelled the table. He reached over, tracing the pips with his finger. “Selurnis. The Bridge. Blood Way. The Light’s River,” he continued, tracing each constellation, using only one or two constellations I had never heard of before, listing them off like items on a price list. I noted several of the sailors gaping as he finished with, “The King’s Arch.”

  “Now wait a minute,” one sailor challenged. “I’ve never heard of the Blood Way before. And not the Fae’s Wing, either.”

  “Over the eastern edge,” Kestral said, referring to the sky in the far east. “I’m sure there’s a star chart we can use, if you doubt it.”

  “No seas in the east,” the sailor grumbled. The others stirred grumpily, unhappy that an outsider had come in at the end to take their money.

  “Pardon, sir, but there’s at least twenty-six.” I leaned over to trace a new shape. “The Beggar’s Crown.”

  The dark stranger nodded once. “I see it now. You’re right. I suppose I lost.”

  The sailors began a wild raucous cheer, as if they themselves had won. The big one patted my back hard enough to leave bruises as I scooped my winnings into my belt purse. Kestral caught my eye and jerked his chin towards the stairs. I was surprised to see how late it had grown while I’d gambled. I let Kestral and his friend ascend the staircase ahead of me before thanking the sailors for a good game and sneaking through the kitchen to take a back staircase. I had to keep appearances as a regular, after all.

  Kestral and his companion were waiting for me in the hallway just outside our room. Neither seemed particularly surprised about me coming up the back steps.

  “So, do I get to meet your mysterious friend who knows far too many constellations?” I asked, giving them a crooked smile.

  “Ammon.” Kestral tilted his head back to his friend. He then jerked his chin towards me. “Reshi.”

  It took me aback, him using my real name. Weren’t we keeping a low profile? While I was stunned to silence, Kestral pushed our door open and waved the both of us inside. As I passed him, Kestral held out his hand to me. I arched an eyebrow, playing innocent, but Kestral glared. With a sigh, I handed over the coin purse. Kestral removed his friend’s three gold coins and handed them over before tying the purse to his belt. I pushed past the both of them to drop into a chair and tilted it back, looking up at Ammon. Stars, the man was tall!

  “So, you’re like, what? A scholar? A priest? Do you actually know the lore of all those constellations you named?”

  “I’ll trade my lore for yours.” A tiny smile graced the newcomer’s face. “What is the Beggar’s Crown?”

  “You haven’t heard?” I arched an eyebrow. “It’s a tale as old as time! You see, a beautiful queen falls in love with a—”

  Ammon rolled up his cuff, revealing a brightly burning liar’s brand, just like Kestral’s.

  “Tch.” I stared up at the ceiling. “Not allowed to use liar’s brands in a game of chance. I should report you to the Order.”

  “I’ve never seen anyone so upset over winning.” Ammon lounged back against the wall, arms folded. “Kestral seemed to think you were about to lose all your funds, so I helped.”

  “First, I wasn’t about to lose.” I leaned forward in the chair, letting it fall heavily on its front legs. “Second, it wouldn’t have mattered if I lost that toss because—”

  “You were cheating,” Kestral supplied.

  I glared at him darkly.

  Ammon chuckled softly. “Who’s bringing whom before the Order, now?”

  I looked from Ammon to Kestral. “Who the dust is this guy?”

  “Ammon and I enlisted at the same time,” Kestral explained as he lit candles around the room. “We served in the same squad until we were both promoted to the rank of captain.”

  “Oh, so you two go way back?” I grinned mischievously up at Ammon. “If you’ve got any embarrassing stories of Kestral, like, if he ever cut his foot with his own sword, or tripped during drills, I’ll make it worth your while.”

  Ammon gave me a cool look. “I doubt you could. And anyway, Kestral’s already shared more about me than he has about you. Not that I haven’t put some of it together.”

  Kestral’s head snapped up. “Reshi.”

  I spun to face him, eyes wide in alarm. He met my eyes then began cursing. Across the room in a silvered glass, I caught my reflection. The eye drops had run out. My eyes were gold again.

  Kestral stared a challenge at Ammon. His hand wasn’t on his sword, but the threat was there. Ammon lifted a hand, palm up, seemingly unconcerned.

  “I’m not a mage hunter, Kestral. I’m not even on duty. I’m in town on personal leave. I don’t care what you’re up to.”

  Impossibly, Kestral relaxed.

&nb
sp; I stared at Ammon in wonder. Who could he be to have earned that much trust from Kestral? Kestral didn’t even trust me that much and we had been traveling together for months now.

  “Are you on leave because of your sister?” Kestral asked, as if he hadn’t just been ready to draw steel on his friend.

  Ammon nodded. “Her child is due any day and the eastern front has been quiet. It seemed like a good time to take a leave.” He glanced beyond Kestral to the open window. “I should get back. Give her husband a break from her for at least a little while.”

  Kestral nodded.

  Ammon shrugged himself away from the wall, moving with a soft, deadly grace. As he turned, he met my eyes. I had thought they were black, but as I looked into them, I noticed a gleam of green.

  “I don’t know what you two are up to, but if you have of need me, you can find me in the craftsman district. Ask for Zera’s shop.”

  I nodded, as it seemed the only appropriate response.

  Ammon glanced back at Kestral. “It was great catching up. Let’s do it again sometime.”

  “Sure thing.” The door closed behind Ammon.

  Kestral and I waited to speak until the sound of his boots faded down the staircase.

  “So, are all your friends just creepily intense like that, or was that your long-lost brother?” I asked.

  Kestral shook his head. “Ammon’s a good man. You can trust him.”

  “Such a good man that he didn’t speak for you when you were discharged?” I asked archly.

  “He wasn’t part of that.” Kestral scowled. “He would have spoken if I’d asked, but it would have only have stalled his career.”

  “Do I finally get to know the secret?” I asked, leaning forward. “Why the great captain was dishonorably discharged?”

  Kestral met my eyes, expression totally deadpan. “What happened to you in Giltner?”

  I rolled my eyes and fell back into my seat. “Maybe I can get your friend to tell me.”

  “You could try.” Kestral crossed the room towards me. He reached out, sliding his fingers into my hair and tipping my face up. “But even you’re not that convincing.”

  I gave him a slow smile. “You haven’t even seen convincing from me.”

  “Is your friend gone yet?” A loud voice from the window made the both of us jump.

  Kestral spun, drawing his sword in the same motion. I had a knife in each hand and my heart in my throat. Kila perched on the windowsill, clad entirely in black, including a black scarf over the lower half of her face. She stepped into the room, ignoring the drawn weapons. “I got so bored waiting, I think I drifted off.”

  “You were waiting on the roof?” I asked. “Wait, you fell asleep on the roof?”

  Kila shrugged. Her outfit was skintight, like a sneak-thief’s, but also studded with weapons. Her longsword peeked up over her shoulder, a shortsword at her belt. The hilts of both were wrapped in black leather. A belt of tiny throwing knives circled her waist and worn, padded boots laced up halfway to her knee.

  “Why are you dressed like an assassin?” Kestral asked her, sword still in hand.

  “Aren’t we breaking into the university tonight?” Kila tugged the scarf so that it dropped beneath her chin. “Or did your old war buddy make you forget why we’re here?”

  “We can’t break in, Kila, there’s a barrier,” Kestral reminded her.

  “Well, then, we bring the quarry out to us, right?” Kila glanced at me. “You can get in, can’t you?”

  “Of course I can.” I slipped my knives back into their sheaths, then slid the bracers off my arms. “Kestral isn’t going to like it, though.”

  Kestral sheathed his sword, refusing to look at me. “Kila, take care of Reshi. I’ll meet you both downstairs.”

  Kestral didn’t look for or even ask about me as we walked back to the university tower. Kila loved my spider form. She asked if I had a venomous bite, as if considering me a new, exciting weapon. I rode on the tail of the scarf she wrapped around her face, hiding in its folds as it trailed in the wind.

  Clouds covered the moon, so the night was darker than usual. I crept up the scarf to sit near Kila’s shoulder, looking up at the Great Canvas. What type of star was my oldest sister? A violent star? A shy star? Why hadn’t I thought to ask Laki? Knowing a little about her would have helped me to approach her. I had good reason to feel nervous. Traditionally, each time I met a new sibling, I ended up in a fight. At least I knew to expect it this time.

  “I’m going around to the north side,” Kestral said from somewhere on Kila’s other side. “Count to one hundred before beginning. Reshi.” He didn’t look at me, but I crept around Kila’s back to peek over at him. “Don’t be afraid to run if it goes bad. We’ll be just outside.”

  Without a backwards glance, Kestral set off to the opposite side of the tower.

  “He really does have a spider thing, doesn’t he?” Kila chuckled softly. “I guess everyone has a thing, right? Where are you?”

  Kila raised her black-gloved hand to her shoulder and I crawled onto it. She held me in front of her, so we could see eye-to-eye. Not that it helped. Spiders didn’t exactly have a variety of facial expressions.

  “Kestral’s right. Don’t be afraid to run,” Kila reaffirmed. “Try to draw her out here. I hate sending you in alone.” Kila tickled my body with a gloved finger. “I’m sure Kestral hates it, too. Be safe, little brother.”

  Kila stepped as close to the barrier as she could and held her hand up high. I spun a few threads of silk, connecting them into a sort of sail to catch the wind then stepped off Kila’s hand. Tugging on specific strands of the silk carried me to the wall of the tower, where I began to climb. The windows were all glass fit into iron frames and almost all the rooms beyond were dark. It seemed the tower’s students stayed in a type of barracks in the city of Emlenton, and only a few staff members lived in the tower. A gentle tug on my consciousness drew me ever upwards, seeking an open window.

  I finally found one, open barely a crack. I scuttled into a dark room with a dim line of light beneath a door. Even as large a spider as I was, I could squeeze through some impossibly tight spaces. Once in the hallway beyond the dark room, I saw a soft light spilling down a staircase just ahead. I crawled up the wall and headed towards the light.

  Would I recognize my sister? Or would I just have to rely on this shaky connection I seemed to have with my siblings? What would I say to her? Wouldn’t she be scared if I simply materialized in a room she felt safe in? I definitely wanted to avoid another Laki incident.

  Light spilled from an open door off a hallway at the top of the stairway. I crawled up the wall to the ceiling, deciding that the safest entrance had to be the most unexpected one. I crept into the lit room, ready to bolt at a hint of danger.

  A woman sat with her back to the door, hunched over a desk and muttering to herself.

  Was it Reina? I couldn’t see her face, but I was afraid to get too close. The woman had her dark hair pulled back into a bun with several sticks thrust haphazardly through it to hold it in place. As I watched, she pulled one stick free, revealing it as a charcoal pencil. She scribbled quickly on a piece of parchment before thrusting it back through the bun. I crept a tiny bit closer, trying to hear what she said.

  “Too advanced, too much too quickly,” she said, scribbling through lines of text on parchment. I was surprised to note that she wrote with the opposite hand she had just written with. “Too complex, won’t hold for longer than . . .” She trailed off and flipped rapidly through an open book, stopping suddenly to read a page. “Can’t believe a bloodline spell isn’t enough, only covers humanoid . . . doesn’t help against magic . . . or deception.” She took a deep breath and tossed her pen down in frustration. “But I guess that’s how you’re here, isn’t it, Jereshin?”

  “Were you expecting me?” I asked, hopping down from the ceiling, shifting seamlessly to land on my feet.

  “Yes and no.” The woman at the desk looked back at m
e over her shoulder. “I felt you and Tekilashan test the barrier earlier. I thought my precautions would be good enough. I saw a few of your forms through Cera’s dispersal and had to extrapolate on the others. I guessed there was a smaller, less obvious form, but I thought perhaps it was a frog or a toad.”

  I blinked at the sudden flood of words. “Extra-what?”

  She gave an exaggerated sigh. “I guessed. Based on previously collected data.”

  “Oh.” I grimaced. “Why does everyone guess frog or toad?”

  “Did you know there’s no biological difference between a frog and a toad?” she asked.

  “No bio-what-what?”

  “So why, if there’s no difference, does it take two different spells to banish frogs and toads? One should work just as well as the other.”

  “Um.”

  “The spider form was completely unexpected, though. Well done, Jereshin.”

  “Just Reshi is fine.”

  “No, no, no, it’s not.” My sister pivoted in her seat, the chair turning with her like a spinning barstool. She wore a pair of spectacles over unremarkable brown eyes. “You lose the majesty of your name. Don’t you understand the power of the names given us?”

  I arched a brow. “I can honestly say I have never considered it.”

  She leaned back against her desk with a sigh and drummed her fingers on the desk. “I knew most of you weren’t as educated as myself, but I didn’t expect you to be dull as well.”

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you too, Reina.”

  “Laureinaqin,” she snapped. “Do you know what that means?”

  “I have a feeling you’re going to tell me regardless of what I say next.”

  “Mother chose to name us as if we were royalty from her home country, where Father met her.” Reina pushed on, intent on her lecture. “Laureinaqin meaning, literally, Queen Laureina.”

  “Really? I might have guessed it meant something else.”

  She glared at me over her spectacles. “Raleagan would translate to King Raleagh, or Ralean, depending on how he wanted to be called. The rest of you simply had the word ‘prince’ or ‘princess’ inserted at the end of your name. Mother had such hopes for the seven of us.”