Sorcerous Rivalry (The Mage-Born Chronicles Book 1)

by Kayleigh Nicol

  “What are you doing?” he asked, voice deadly soft.

  “Whatever I want,” I replied casually. “I thought you were in bed already and I wanted to dance. So, I found a partner.”

  Kestral gritted his teeth, hands fisted at his sides. I tucked my hands behind my head, lounging against the inn’s outer wall.

  “Honestly, Kestral, you can’t be this mad about it.” I smirked. “Sex is just sex. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Doesn’t mean anything?” Kestral repeated, voice strained.

  I rolled my eyes. “Sex is just something people do. Like when their blood’s up, or when they need a release. When they need to feel in control or when they need to hurt someone. You’re a soldier, you should know that better than anyone.”

  Kestral’s fist flew at me faster than I thought it could. I flinched, the punch landing on the wall beside my head.

  Kestral leaned in close, not quite touching me. “It’s never been about any of those things between us.”

  I swallowed, trying to keep my head clear after that wall-shaking punch. “Look, Kestral, I may be your prisoner or whatever, but you don’t own me.”

  Kestral narrowed his eyes at me. “Is that what this is about? Giltner?” The hand not planted next to my head moved towards my hip. Quicker than a heartbeat, I flicked a knife into my hand and held the blade against Kestral’s wrist, his fingertips inches from me.

  Dust.

  Rusting dust.

  Rusting dust and rusting ashes.

  I thought I had been careful. I thought I had kept the rooms dark enough, kept the blankets high enough, shifted often enough. I thought I had kept those marks hidden.

  But he’d seen.

  He knew.

  A hysterical laugh bubbled up from my throat as I turned the blade, using the flat side to toss Kestral’s hand back. Pushing off the wall, I shoved Kestral a step away from me, knife held down at my side as a ward. We stared at each other in silence. Kestral looked steady, but I felt a slightly manic grin on my face. He knew the truth. He’d known for a while.

  “What happened to you in Giltner?” Kestral asked softly, all fury gone from his voice.

  I laughed again. “You already know, don’t you? Figured out my secret?”

  Kestral said nothing, watching me with those emotionless eyes. At least no emotion was better than pity.

  If I saw pity in his eyes, I’d probably slit my own throat. “You thought I was a thief, didn’t you? A cut-purse or a window-breaker or a lockpick? That’s what you thought, right?”

  Kestral jerked his chin in a nod.

  “Weren’t you so glad to find out that I never got the chance to be guilded? Was it a relief when you found out I had been sold as a whore?”

  Kestral shook his head but he didn’t interrupt.

  “The orphanage sold me to a noble when I turned ten. My contract was sold twice more after that. You saw, right?” I sneered at him. “When I turned sixteen, I was too old to be sold as a child-whore, so my master gave my contract to a brothel. That’s when I ran.” I laughed bitterly. “I might be the only one of Laurana’s kids to have two bounties on my head, although I guess the first one doesn’t really matter anymore. Well, Kestral? Happy now? That’s the secret of Giltner.” I bowed mockingly.

  “Reshi.” He reached a hand towards me. I warded it away with the knife.

  “Don’t.” How long could I keep my voice steady? How long until my hands started shaking? “Don’t, Kestral. Whatever you think you can say, it doesn’t matter. I may be beholden to you right now, but don’t think that means you own me.”

  I took a step back, preparing to shift. Kestral started to say something, reaching forward for me again but the shape I chose drove him back on his heels. A spider could disappear into shadows quicker than tears into the ocean.

  There was nothing quite like being kicked out of bed by your sister to start your day.

  “What the—Reshi, is that you?” Kila blinked over the edge of the bed, rubbing her eyes blearily. Her other hand held a sword. I had no idea where it came from as I had checked her bed carefully for sharp objects before sleeping at the end of it.

  After finally confessing to my past in Giltner the night before, I hadn’t wanted to be alone, but I also didn’t feel charming enough to find another partner in the common room. I certainly hadn’t been about to go sleep with Kestral, so I had curled up with Kila as a last possible resort. It wasn’t an ideal situation as I couldn’t draw magical energy from her, but at least I was safe with her.

  As Kila stood and stretched, another sword tumbled out of her bed.

  Maybe. Maybe I was safe with her.

  “Why are you here?” Kila asked, scooping up the fallen weapon. I lashed my tail at her, still irritated to have been kicked off the bed. “Is Kestral still exhausted? I don’t blame him. I’d be tired of you too by now.” She laughed at her own joke as she searched for something beneath fallen blankets and puddled clothing. “Where did I put . . .”

  When camping, Kila was just as organized and self-contained as Kestral. At an inn, Kila’s room looked as if she had lived there for a week without doing any laundry. Even I couldn’t make as big a mess as hers. But then, I didn’t use swords as clothing racks.

  I leapt up on to the writing desk and gave myself a cat bath while Kila changed. She wore leather leggings and a tight shirt beneath her dress, in case she needed to skin out of the dress for a fight. With her riding boots and lace hairnet, the whole ensemble looked a little too constrained for me. One day I’d get her in something fun and airy for dancing. Unless she killed me first.

  A soft knock on the door came while Kila brushed out her hair. She glanced over her shoulder at me. “Can you get that?” she asked.

  I pinned my ears at her.

  With an eye roll, Kila let her hair fall and answered the door.

  “Morning, Kestral,” Kila greeted cheerfully.

  “Morning.” Kestral peered past her into the room. “Have you seen—” He stopped, eyes falling on me. He nodded and took a step back.

  Was it just me, or did he look even more exhausted after a night without being drawn upon?

  “I’ll order breakfast downstairs.”

  “Thank you!” Kila called after him. She shut the door and pulled up her hair. “I’d kill for more black tea. Northerners don’t know what they’re missing. Are you going to shift for breakfast?”

  I flicked my ears and looked away.

  Kila shrugged and pushed her door open.

  I trotted after her on padded feet.

  Downstairs, I noted that Kestral had ordered three breakfast plates, but I was still too angry to be tempted out of form. Instead, I crossed the common room and ducked into the kitchen, where I found a discreet corner to shift in. I told the cook I was preparing the horses for the ride, so he gave me a cold breakfast of fruit and cheese with a few extra apples for Shan and Bruiser. By the time Kestral and Kila came outside with their packs, Bruiser was saddled, and Shan was tied to an outside post. The monster horse still didn’t like anyone but Kestral loading him up for a journey. I perched on the top of the barn as a crow, waiting for them to finish riding preparations. Kestral glanced up at me but didn’t try to say anything, out loud or along our mental bond.

  Kila didn’t seem to realize anything was wrong. She chatted cheerfully at Kestral, who only grunted back. At lunch time she tossed tiny pieces of jerky into the air for me to catch. She didn’t even seem to notice that I only shifted human after dinner was finished cooking, then immediately shifted to my cat form to curl up on her bedroll. Kestral didn’t say anything to me either, choosing instead to study maps and develop battle plans. He and Kila stayed up late, discussing strategies while I napped. After Kestral was deeply asleep, I crept out of Kila’s bedroll and crouched near Kestral’s feet, drawing just deeply enough to maintain my forms for the next day. I doubt he would even notice I’d taken anything. Afterwards, I returned to Kila’s bedroll, curling up in the cro
ok of her legs.

  What got me the most wasn’t how Kestral had chased away my potential partner, but rather that he had seen my tattoos—the proof of my sale—and hadn’t said anything to me about them. At some point, he had figured out what I used to be and kept sleeping with me anyway, never letting on that he knew. The three little tattoos were family crests, two had been noble houses, one had been a wealthy merchant. Each time my contract was sold, a new tattoo had been etched on my hip and the previous crest had a line crossed over it. Some whores were sold so many times the tattoos circled their waist like a belt. By the time my contract was turned over to a brothel, my magic had come in and I’d decided to run. I broke into the brothel and drew a line across my last tattoo, indicating my own freedom, but the line had come out shaky and uneven—obviously the mark of a runaway. I had been careful to keep the marks concealed ever since.

  Or, at least, I thought I had.

  Not that it mattered much. The bounty for being a mage-born was much higher than the return of a runaway cockerel. If Kestral wasn’t killing me for my bounty, I doubted he would turn me in to my last owner. I still hated that he had found out. It made my past real to me, after four years of denying it had ever happened. I hated having to face my own weakness, my own powerlessness, the way I had scraped and begged in order to survive another day. The day I escaped was the day I promised myself I would never be made that weak ever again.

  Then, of course, my magic developed, and I figured out that the only way to keep my well full was to draw life force from someone who slept. It wasn’t as if my life had changed greatly, but at least I could make my own choices. Sometimes good choices, sometimes bad ones. Making bad choices was easier and maybe I would have continued making them if it hadn’t been for Wix. A trick of the stars had landed me at her inn, sleeping off a night of bad choices. Wix liked the way my partner woke up stumbling and barely able to form sentences the following morning, and she picked me for a mage. I figured her out as a fairy, so we made a deal—protection for amusement. Best deal I’d ever made.

  This was the problem with sticking to forms while traveling. I wasn’t speaking to Kestral and I couldn’t speak to Kila, so I just brooded in silence. I flew on ahead of the horses, perched in a tree and brooded. At night, while I waited for Kestral to fall asleep, I’d brood. But brooding became boring. Luckily, after only three days, we finally approached a town. Regardless of whatever Kestral said, I would use the eye drops and pick up a new dance partner. He owed me for scaring away the last one.

  I stayed in a form until Kila and Kestral finished carrying their bags up to their rooms and went down to dinner in the common room. Kestral shot me a glance before leaving the room, as if he wanted to say something, then shook his head and left. I shifted, changed out of my sneak-thief clothes and used the drops to turn my eyes brown. It wasn’t my favorite look, but I could tolerate it for a night of anonymity.

  I took a short flight out the window to the barn, so that the innkeepers would think I had been with the mounts while the others checked in. I entered the common room from the kitchen door and saw Kila waving for me to join her and Kestral at their table. I took a breath. Dinner with Kestral couldn’t hurt, right? Surely a musical group would arrive soon, and the inn would liven up so I could slip away. With that in mind, I slipped into a chair across the table from Kestral.

  Kila kept up a lively chatter as we ordered and ate. Dinner was a simple affair, just river fish on a bed of vegetables. The ale wasn’t as dark as I preferred and the only entertainment for the night was a flute player. This inn wasn’t shaping up to be at all what I had hoped for. I surveyed the inn’s other guests as I picked at my vegetables.

  “. . .know what really bothered me about Reina?” Kila was saying, waving a bit of speared fish around. “Did you notice that for all that power she threw around, when she wanted to kill Reshi, she had to be really close? Didn’t you say she was going to spear you with a needle, Reshi? And then stomp you later? Doesn’t that seem strange?”

  Kila chomped the piece of fish from her fork and continued talking with her mouth full: “I mean, she kept creating those walls of solid air, right? Couldn’t she just have crushed Reshi from a distance? Or any one of us, really. Did you notice, Kestral?”

  “Kila.” Kestral’s voice dragged my attention back to the table. When was the last time I had heard him speak? “Would you mind giving Reshi and me a moment alone?”

  Kila paused before glancing over at me, as if asking if I was all right with being alone with Kestral. That was nice of her; it felt like she was looking out for me. I nodded, letting her know it was okay to leave.

  “Good. You two better fix whatever broke. I’m tired of being the one who has to do all the talking.” Kila shoved her chair back and picked up her empty tankard. She gave us a cheerful wave before heading to the bar. I smiled a little, watching her kick her skirts out of the way with every step. After all this time she still hadn’t mastered the skill of walking in a dress.

  “Reshi.”

  I grimaced at the tabletop before looking up to meet Kestral’s eyes.

  “I . . .”

  “Look, Kestral, just forget it.” I glanced away. “I’m still grateful to you for saving my life all those times and I guess it’s stupid to be mad that you found out. I just don’t want to talk about it. Let’s just let it be over.”

  Kestral was quiet as he stared down at his barely-touched dinner. “I don’t want it to be over.”

  “I don’t mean over-over,” I amended. “I’ve been listening when you and Kila talk strategy at night. I think you’ve got a good plan for Velyn and Eagan, and I’ll still listen to you. You’re the only reason I’ve lived this long. You know I trust you on the battlefield.”

  Kestral took a breath, still staring down at the table. “Reshi, knowing about your past—”

  “Stop, Kestral.”

  “—doesn’t change anything for me. I should have handled it better—”

  “Stop talking about it.”

  “—but I think I can help you understand.”

  “I don’t want to talk about my past!” I slammed my palm down on the table, surprising Kestral into looking up. “It’s over. We’re over. Just . . . let it be over.”

  Kestral shook his head. “I’m not talking about your past. I want to talk about mine.”

  My breath left me in a rush, leaving me lost for words. I stared across the table, searching his eyes for a lie. When I couldn’t find it, I leaned back in my seat and crossed my arms. “Go ahead then. Tell me.”

  Kestral looked around the common room, for once appearing shy. “Not here.” Kestral stood, sliding his chair back gently. “Come to my room tonight.”

  Every animal instinct inside me screamed out that it was a trap. Set with a very pretty lure, to be sure, but a trap nonetheless. I watched Kestral warily as he pushed in his chair and walked to the stairs, heading up to his room.

  Well, if he’s gone for the night, I have my pick of partners, I thought, looking around the common room again. Kila was still drinking at the bar, having a boisterous conversation with some soldiers. There weren’t many pretty patrons at this inn; they were probably mostly locals, come in for dinner. The flute player wasn’t helping me any; she had begun a long, sad ballad that would keep the people drinking, but not dancing. I would have settled for gambling, but I didn’t have any coins on me.

  I slumped in my seat, weighing my options. I could be bored down here all night until Kila went to bed. Or . . .

  With a sigh, I heaved myself out my chair and ducked outside the bar.

  Kestral had left his window open, as I’d expected. I perched on the ledge, peeking inside before making my decision. Kestral sat near the writing desk, cleaning his longsword. He had left the door to his room open a crack, just enough for a cat to slide through. He was really hoping I’d accept his invitation, then. I didn’t think he saw me as I slipped in through the window, but he looked up as I shifted, leaning against
the window frame in case a quick escape was needed.

  Kestral didn’t invite me further into the room. In fact, he ignored me for a minute as he wiped down his blade. Before putting it back in its sheath, he tested its edge and frowned. We’d probably have to make a stop at the town’s blacksmith tomorrow. After setting the sword down, Kestral stood and closed the room’s door. He leaned back against it, arms crossed, eyes down.

  I waited. Sometimes finding a place to begin was the hardest part.

  “I only ever wanted to be a soldier,” Kestral finally said without preamble. “It wasn’t just the pay. I was my village’s best hunter, the best swordsman. Whenever soldiers passed through town, I begged for a sparring lesson. I was good at it. It was all I thought about. I read books about famous generals and battles, I studied army tactics and how to run supply lines.

  “I left my home city with a caravan heading to Beramin when I was only fifteen because I couldn’t stand to wait for the next caravan to pass through. They wouldn’t let me enlist officially until I turned sixteen, but they let me run messages and clean stables, that kind of thing. I used to finish up my duties early, so I could watch the combat training in the afternoon. I never thought of doing anything else. I was born to be a soldier.”

  Kestral fell silent, a tiny smile on his face. I found myself wishing I had known him then. I couldn’t help but picture him as an eager, earnest bright-eyed child. Oh, how time changed us.

  “I was promoted to captain two years later. I qualified in one, but the commander didn’t think the men would respect me at seventeen years of age. Do you know the differences between the border armies?” Kestral glanced up at me for the first time since he began.

  I shook my head.

  “The western army has been actively at war for over five years now. They’re our biggest standing army and they have the most soldiers, healers, and bonded mages. The southern army is the nation’s reserve army. They have the largest cavalry unit, so they’re the most mobile. When the fighting gets too intense on either border, the southern army gets called in. Of course, the north has the navy.” Kestral waved a hand dismissively. “The eastern army—my army—defends against the fae wilds. So rather than working as one massive force, the army works as a series of small strike forces ranging from ten men up to sixty. Every man in the group is expected to be able to switch from pike to sword to bow as needed. We patrol the fae wilds or respond to villages under magical attack. Sometimes we would find mages hiding in the fae wilds. If we didn’t kill them, it was my job as captain to bond them. I didn’t really understand what bonding was at the time; the eastern army doesn’t keep many mages. Most are sent to the west. The ones we had stationed in Beramin were all healers.”