by Kara Jaynes
Aside from that, I wanted to feel the hilt of a sword in my palm again; to lose my worries in sparring, and—I swallowed hard—I missed the feeling of brotherhood. My steps slowed as I neared the low, long building. I wasn’t worthy of this. I didn’t deserve this. I should be dead, resting with the Elite.
Except I knew Master wouldn’t have wanted me to give up. I couldn’t. I had to find whatever ways I could manage to make up for my failures. Steeling my jaw, I stepped up to the door and knocked, pounding my fist on the solid wood door.
I waited a full minute and knocked again.
My keen hearing picked up the sound of shuffling footsteps as someone approached on the other side.
A key rattled in a lock and the door swung inward. “What do you want?”
I nodded politely at the bearded man that was now peering at me. “My name is Silvan,” I said. “And I’ve come to see if the city guard is hiring recruits.”
The man scratched his beard as he eyed me from head to toe. “Hmm. You’re rather young, don’t you think?”
“You won’t find a more skilled swordsman, sir, I can promise you that.”
The man barked a laugh and opened the door wider. “Pretty big claim for a boy who doesn’t shave, yet.”
I frowned as I stalked past, refusing to dignify him with an answer. I did too need to shave my face. Sort of. Sometimes.
The man walked across the yard and inside, with me following close behind. A few men were sparring in the yard, wooden swords clacking.
Just inside the barracks was a narrow room filled with racks of both real and practice weapons.
The man ran a hand through his beard, regarding the weapons before selecting a thin, wooden sword. He tossed it to me and I caught it midair. He motioned behind me. “Out to the yard. We’ll practice there.”
I spun on my heel and strode out, head held high.
There I noted with satisfaction that the men who had been sparring earlier were taking a break. An audience would be good. Rather than making me nervous, a buzz of adrenaline hummed through me. This was going to be fun.
The bearded man approached, a practice sword held in a large fist. I studied him, taking into account his large build. He’d be stronger than me, but slower.
He hesitated, eyeing me in turn. “I’ll go easy on you, boy, but I want you to give it all you got.”
I laughed as I launched myself into the air, twisting in a half-flip as I soared over him, clipping him lightly on the side of the head with the flat of my sword. I landed behind him, dust billowing where I landed. The land here needed rain. Obviously, enchanted fog wasn’t helping much in that regard.
Eyes bulging with incredulity, the man swung around. “Land quake, boy. What was that?”
I gave him a half-bow. “Some might call it magic, sir.” But it wasn’t.
He barked a laugh and lunged at me. He swung his sword in a wide arch. I stepped into the attack, using my weapon to deflect his, and brought my foot up and out in a solid front kick, striking his chest.
The guard staggered back with a string of oaths, the amusement quickly fading from his face. His eyes narrowed. “Prepare yourself for a sound thumping, boy.”
He never touched me. Ducking and weaving, I delivered a series of whacks, kicks, and stabs, all the while staying in a constant state of pure motion. I felt alive, like I’d been asleep for weeks, and the sword had breathed vitality into me.
The poor man tried his best. I could see it in the harried look of concentration, the sweat beading on his forehead, and hear it in his gasps for air as he pushed his level of exertion higher.
I ended it. In another spin that brought me closer to him, I stuck my leg out, tripping him and delivered a sound crack to the side of his head, careful to not hit with too much force. I finished up by driving my sword hilt into his stomach, hard.
The man doubled over with a groan, dropping his weapon as one arm went about his middle, the other hand rubbing his head. “Spirits take it, I yield!”
The other men laughed, coming in for a closer look. There were four of them. “Not too bad for a lanky boy,” one of the guards crowed.
“Well if he beat Ehric, he’d thump you soundly, Bleke,” another guard laughed.
I held my ground, looking at the other men warily. If they all decided to jump me at once, I’d have a hard time taking them. Five on one wasn’t fair, even if I was the one.
“Eh, let him be,” the bearded man said. Ehric. He held a hand out to me, and I shook it. “You're a skilled fighter, boy.”
“My name is Silvan, sir,” I said.
“Well met, Silvan,” Ehric said. He smiled warmly. “I think you just earned yourself a place here at the barracks.”
I nodded, trying to hide my elated grin. “I’d be thankful, sir.”
I followed him back inside to sign papers, feeling a pang of homesickness. As an Elite, several of my brothers were as skilled with the blade as I was. It felt odd to be surrounded by men who were supposed to be the guardians of this city, and yet were so unskilled.
“Normally we require new recruits train for a couple of weeks before we put them to work,” Ehric said, and it was an effort to keep a wince from my face. No wonder they weren’t skilled in fighting. “But you obviously don’t need the training. As a city guard, you would obviously have the same obligations as the others. You will rotate with other guards, taking turns watching on the wall, or patrolling the streets. But with those fighting abilities, I think for the most part I will have you teach and train everyone else to fight the way you do. If everyone here could learn to fight like that, we’d be the talk of the realm. We’d become legends.” He chuckled at the thought.
“I’d be honored, sir.”
“Oh, and you’ll live here in the barracks. You get half a day off every week.”
I swallowed. I hadn’t thought about that. What would I do with Glacia? Staying here wasn't an option.
Would she be okay staying at the Gray Goose? I doubted it. But beggars couldn’t be choosers. We’d have to find a way to make it work. It would work, for now.
I left the barracks shortly thereafter. I was supposed to meet back here tomorrow. My happiness had evaporated, replaced by a gnawing worry. But it was stupid to fret. I didn't have a choice. I had to take care of financial needs, now that I didn’t live with the Elite, where money didn’t matter.
It mattered now, very much.
I’d talk to Glacia tonight, and figure this out.
7
Silvan
Night was beginning to settle across the city when I left the barracks, and common city folk were replaced with shifting shadows in the misty gloom.
I had no idea if Glacia had already gone back to the inn, but the library was closer, so I went there first.
“We’re closing in twenty minutes,” the stuffy clerk at the desk said.
I ignored him, searching the aisles until I found Glacia.
She was sitting at a small table, reading a massive tome, her face scrunched up in a scowl.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“I’m such an idiot, that’s what.” Glacia slumped forward, resting her forehead on the pages of the open book. “I make a troll look smart.”
“Don’t say that.” I patted her on the shoulder. “Maybe I can help. Tell me what’s going on.”
“I’ve been reading for over a week, Silvan, you know that.” Glacia turned her head, her gray eyes glaring balefully up at me. “And I've been trying to access my enchantment for several weeks. Nothing. I can’t even summon a puff of smoke.”
I snorted. “You can’t just snap your fingers and expect the magic to appear.”
Glacia scowled at the far wall, and folded her arms in a definite sulk.
Sighing, I had to admit to myself that it was frustrating. Glacia was right. It shouldn’t take this long for someone to learn. She had the spark, the ability. Why couldn’t she access it? It didn’t make any sense. I had magic myself, but appa
rently teaching people to work their enchantment wasn’t a talent of mine.
Meditating might calm her. Unfortunately, I was about the worst meditator in the history of the world. Still, I needed to try and remember everything Master had taught me, for her sake.
“Hey.” I took her hand. “Come over here. We’re going to try something new.”
I led her to the center of the room, and we both sat cross-legged across from each other, Glacia rearranging her skirts for modesty. It was blessedly silent. It usually was, here, since Taloos had gotten rid of the rats on his first visit, and with the library closing soon, no one else was here.
Watching me expectantly, hope filled Glacia’s gaze. She wanted to learn magic so badly, but it didn’t seem to matter how hard she tried, it stayed out of her reach. I wished I could relate, then maybe I could coach her through it. But my earliest memories as a child were of me working my magic. It’d always been with me. I couldn't remember not having it.
“We’re going to meditate,” I said. “The purpose of meditation is to bring yourself to the present, to fully immerse yourself in it. If you can do that, you’ll experience immense peace and mindfulness. You’ll discover your true nature.” Whatever that was. I’d never actually experienced the benefits of it. Meditation always made me what to stomp about, screaming my frustration, and releasing my energy. But I wasn’t going to tell her that.
Glacia nodded. “Sounds wonderful.”
I shifted, already feeling uncomfortable. “Okay.” I tried to put on my best Master impersonation. “Close your eyes.”
Glacia obeyed.
“Relax your body—but don’t slouch. Clear your mind. Think only of breathing. Take a deep breath. Hold it, then release. Hold it. Release. Inhale . . . exhale . . .”
I couldn’t remember if I was doing it right, but it seemed to work. The tension slipped from Glacia’s shoulders, her body relaxing as she breathed deeply. She was already better at this than I was. How was that even possible? I glowered down at my fingers, drumming on my knees. My energy never felt spent, unless I transformed into a dragon and then back. My fingers paused their drumming. Maybe that was the key for me. Perhaps being a dragon shifter meant I had more energy than most.
I spoke less as Glacia got deeper into her meditation. She appeared to be . . . at peace. Like all the worry she’d built up and held onto all these years was seeping away from her. It made me wish I had tried to teach her sooner.
I fell silent, watching her breathe deeply. I felt like I could stay here with her forever. I wasn’t meditating, not in the traditional sense that she was, but I felt grounded, fully in the moment with her.
Glacia peeked one eye open. “How am I doing?”
I tsked. “You’re not supposed to talk while meditating.”
Her eye snapped shut. I reached forward and patted her knee. “You’re doing great.”
We continued the meditation, or rather, Glacia did. After a few more minutes, I stretched and stood. “Open your eyes. How do you feel?”
“I feel pretty good,” she replied, sounding surprised. “Maybe I’m too wound up over this. Perhaps the magic will come when it’s ready to.”
I blinked, taken aback by her observation. “Do you think so?”
Glacia shrugged. “I don’t know. But trying to force the magic certainly hasn’t helped. I think that maybe I need to approach the matter with less emotion.”
I chewed my lip, mentally stomping out a tendril of jealousy. How on earth had she managed to get all of this out of her first meditation session? And with me as her teacher? What could she have accomplished with Master as her instructor?
My gut soured. Master would have turned her away. Women weren’t cut out for the Elite, he’d said.
I held a hand out, and pulled her to her feet.
“I got a job at the city guard,” I said.
Glacia smiled. “That’s great. To patrol the city?”
I nodded. “Yes. I'm going to do some patrolling, but the captain of the guard also wants me to train the other guards. To fight.”
Glacia laughed and clapped her hands. “That's perfect.”
I had been trying to put it off, but I couldn't. I began tomorrow. “I will have to live there, at the barracks. You'll need to stay at the Gray Goose with Taloos.”
The smile slipped. Glacia inhaled sharply before smiling again, but this time the curve of her lips wavered. “That’s all right. We obviously need the money. This is a great opportunity for you.”
“I don’t have to do it,” I said, but I knew she could see the disappointment on my face. I needed this.
“Yes, you do,” Glacia replied. Her fists clenched. “You’d get lots of experience, plus you’ll get paid. Sounds like a win-win.”
I eyed her closely. “You hate it when we're apart.”
Glacia nodded. “Yes, but I know it's not rational.” Her smile was back. “You'll explode if you don't feel like you're useful.”
I chuckled. She knew me too well. I reached out and stroked her cheek, realizing what I was doing a moment too late. Letting my hand drop, heat rose to my face. “Only a few weeks. Then I can find something else. The city guard will be better for their training.”
“I'll be here studying, or at the inn, anyway,” Glacia said. “I've been helping Sonia, reshelving books, and doing some light cleaning. She said I'm welcome to stay here with her, if the innkeeper, Barrett, gets tired of keeping us at the inn.”
“That's great,” I said. A thread of pride wrapped around my heart. Glacia was learning to make her way in the world, away from the confinement of her childhood prison. “Sonia is a good woman. You'd do well to stay close, and help her however you can.” Which reminded me. “Stay away from trouble, all right? I won't be able to watch out for you.”
Glacia tilted her head, her blonde locks tumbling about her shoulders. “Trouble such as?”
“Dragons, demons, trolls, and mages.”
She laughed and patted my shoulder. “Don't worry. I only plan to scuttle back and forth from the library. No trouble for me.”
I didn't return the smile, my thoughts turning to the city, and its mysteries. “Stay away from the mage, Elymas, if you see him. I don't know enough about him to know if he's trustworthy or not. Maybe my duties as a guard will make it easier to do some sleuthing.”
She lifted her thin shoulders in a dismissive gesture. “I don't have any reason to go to him. It sounds like everyone avoids him. I'll be fine, Silvan. I did fine in Taloos’s village when you were away, remember?”
I did. And she had been fine. “Just a few weeks,” I repeated. It felt like I was reassuring myself more than her. “Then we can stay or move on, depending on what you prefer.”
We left the library together. My apprehension grew as I was reminded that the fog wasn't natural.
“This fog is strange,” Glacia said, almost the same breath that I’d thought it. “It never leaves, even in the middle of the day. I think the rumors are correct. It must be an enchanted fog.”
For someone who couldn't even sense her own magic, Glacia was surprisingly perceptive when it came to matters of enchantment.
“Why would someone cast an enchanted fog?” I pressed.
Glacia glanced about us as we walked. “I don’t know,” she said. “Perhaps it was cast simply to frighten people, but I don’t believe that.” She absentmindedly twirled a piece of her hair between her fingers. “Maybe it’s an amplifier of sorts. If this elusive Elymas cast it, then maybe he uses it to spy on the people, to make sure he has the upper hand in any going-ons.”
I raised my eyebrows, impressed with her deduction. “Very good, Glacia,” I murmured, and she blushed, ducking her head.
I eyed the fog again, suddenly aware that if Glacia was right, then Elymas could very well be aware of Glacia, and the fact that I would be separated from her. Blast it.
To be fair, that was highly unlikely. This elusive mage that none of us had seen didn't have a reason to show a sudde
n interest in Glacia. And we needed the money. I would talk to Taloos before I left. I knew he cared enough about Glacia to risk his life for her; their encounter with the dragon proved that.
My reasoning didn’t make me feel any better.
8
Glacia
It rained the next morning. I watched Silvan’s form through the window of my room, his image warped from the drops that slid down the glass pane. He slipped away into the fog, and I let my tears fall.
The rain was fitting weather for the grief that knotted my insides. Weeks. Silvan would only get half a day to visit me every seven days. I missed him already, his absence a hole in my chest I couldn’t fill. What if something happened to him while he patrolled the city? I doubted there was anyone in the city as skilled with the blade, but a well-aimed arrow could hurt him as much as anyone.
I snorted. No one was going to hurt him. He was too skilled. I was being ridiculous. But the tears still came, trickling down my cheeks. I still missed him. I wanted to curl back under my covers and cry until there was nothing left of me.
A quiet knock on the door caused me to start and hastily wipe any tears from my face. It was too early in the morning for it to be anyone but Taloos. “Come in,” I called, wincing when I heard the tears in my voice. I coughed, trying to hide it.
The door opened, and Taloos poked his head through, his brown hair still tousled from sleep. “Silvan told me I needed to be your bodyguard while he's working. He might’ve said something about turning into a dragon and eating me if something happened to you.”
I laughed, despite the sadness that overwhelmed me. “What an inspiring talk.”
“Very.” Taloos came in and closed the door. He walked up to me and peered out the window at the gray gloom. “I’ve already been chomped on by a dragon. I have no desire to repeat the experience.” He glanced at me, and his eyes widened. “Spirits take it, are you crying?”
I looked back out the window, pressing my forehead against the cool pane. “I’m fine,” I lied.
Taloos patted me awkwardly on the back. “Shoot, I’m sorry, Glacia. But for what’s it worth, a week isn’t nearly enough time for me to sway your affections to forget about Silvan. Every seven days he'll undo my efforts of wooing you.”