“Magic?” Ethan started to laugh, maybe believing she was joking. When she didn’t join in, he covered his reaction with a cough. With a serious expression, he said, “Gifted can do amazing things, but even that would be impossible.”
“Why do they do it? The tattoos, I mean.”
“It started as a way to remember their duty. That both Gifts and life are sacred and taking either should never be done lightly. But now, it’s become more of a trophy for some. Fran and her brother used to compete to see who could earn the most tattoos. Before you killed him.”
Mara’s head snapped up in surprise. “That Guardian was her brother?”
“Her twin.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Frank took a perverse pleasure in torturing people as he stole both their Gifts and their lives. The world is a safer place without him.”
A commotion sounded from the courtyard. Mara and Ethan walked out to see a semicircle of disciples crowding around something. Mara craned her head, trying to pick out pieces of conversation among the hushed whispers. What were they looking at? Something told her that she didn’t want to know.
Head Magi Cadmus stood on the stairs of the Magi building. Just when she thought she might skirt by without notice, their eyes met above the crowd of anxious disciples. The energy crackled with excitement. What was happening?
Ethan’s jaw clenched so tight it was a miracle his teeth didn’t shatter. He reached over and took her arm in a firm yet gentle grip. He leaned down, and whispered in her ear, “Come on, we need to get you out of here.”
Mara usually would have argued, but the look on his face sent a jolt of fear down her body. Something was terribly wrong. She matched him step by step until Cadmus’s voice called above the chatter.
“Disciple Mara, you will stay. Please, join me.”
Mara turned slowly, dread blooming in her core. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t good. Without thinking, she slipped her hand into Ethan’s. He blinked in surprise, then threaded his fingers through hers, giving her hand a quick squeeze. She forced her feet to move, weaving between the throng until she reached the base of the stairs. She bit back a scream when she realized what was happening. The three dregs Ethan had freed were bound, hand and foot, waiting on their knees before Cadmus. The woman wept softly while the two men glared up at the Head Magi.
She’d never even learned their names.
No! She had to do something to stop this. Anything! As she pulled her hand free from Ethan’s grip, he whispered, “Do not react. No matter what. Keep your face clear of emotion.”
As if that were possible.
She stumbled up the stairs, hands shaking, to stand beside Cadmus. They should have been miles from here by now! How had he caught them so quickly? His eyes narrowed onto Ethan, but he appeared as horrified as she felt. Then, Cadmus beamed down at her, face filled with triumph.
Cadmus raised his arms and an eerie quiet descended on the crowd. “These three dregs, these animals, were granted mercy. Rather than be executed for their crimes, I allowed them to live—a mistake I will not make again.” He pinned Mara with a stare, as if he were speaking directly to her. As if she had been the one to free them. She shivered under his cold, black eyes. She wanted nothing more than to wrap a coil of energy around his thin neck and strangle him. “Rather than accept my generous hospitality, they rejected my lenience and fled, forfeiting their lives.”
Mara swallowed, and she forced her face to stay blank, even as it killed her on the inside. Could she still save them? Could she say anything to save them from their fate? They didn’t deserve to die.
Cadmus waved to the side, and Fran stepped forward, unsheathing a thin sword. Quicker than Mara could follow, the Guardian darted forward, drawing the blade across their necks in a single, graceful swoop. Mara screamed and covered her face.
“Make no mistake. The might of the Order is unquestioned and unchallenged. All deserters will be caught, and they will receive a just punishment.” He allowed the words to hang in the air, and Mara knew for certain that he was speaking to her.
Her gaze fell on Cadmus as the dull thud of their bodies hitting the ground broke the silence. He was watching her reaction carefully, absorbing every emotion that flitted across her face. Mara straightened, forcing her features into a mask of indifference, but it was too late. As Cadmus smirked, she knew that she hadn’t fooled him for a second. His message was clear.
She could run.
But he would find her. He would catch her. And he would kill her.
8
A pounding on her door startled Mara awake. She peeled her face from her tear-soaked pillow and brushed her damp hair back with her hand. After the execution, the guards had escorted her back to her room where she’d promptly fallen onto her bed. She hadn’t moved since.
“Go away!”
Tamil had tried comforting her, but she’d sent him away. She needed to be alone. It was one thing to hear Cadmus’s threats on a daily basis. It was another to watch him carry them out only a few feet away. She’d allowed herself the foolish hope that the dregs would escape, and one day, she would as well. Their capture, their deaths, reinforced her fear that she would be trapped at Order Headquarters forever.
The door crashed open and Tova marched in, scowling at her from across the room. “As a fellow woman who wouldn’t want someone barging into my room whenever they wish, I knock as a courtesy. But make no mistake in thinking that you earned it. It’s a privilege I can revoke any time for any reason.”
Mara bolted upright, fisting her hands in the duvet. “I hate you.”
Tova sighed and crossed her arms but didn’t respond. Mara shoved herself off the bed and marched over, staring down at the girl. She trembled, fury coursing through her veins. “I hate you! If you hadn’t caught those dregs in the first place, they’d still be alive. I HATE YOU!”
“And what good does that do? Will hating me bring them back? The rage will eat you alive until you’re nothing but bones and ashes. The only thing you can do is shove those feelings down and survive. Be numb. I follow orders, Mara, and I do what I’m told. You need to learn to do the same.”
“Never.”
“Then you’ll die.” Tova shrugged, as though she wasn’t disturbed by the idea in the slightest. “Not only will you die, but your family will die as well. Is that what you want?”
Fresh tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She’d never felt more powerless.
Tova sighed. “You’re wanted in the training yard.”
“I-I can’t.”
“Don’t you understand? What you want doesn’t matter any longer. You signed your free will away the moment you agreed to work for Cadmus. Your life belongs to the Order, and the sooner you accept that, the better it will be for everyone. Now, let’s go.” Tova reached out and grabbed her by the arm. Mara could have pulled away. She could have run to the powder room and locked herself inside until the guards came and dragged her away by force. She no longer had the will to fight.
Sagging under the weight of her realization, Mara followed Tova out of her room and down the stairs. They walked into the courtyard, and past the Guardian building to the training yard. It was five times the size of Stonehollow’s beggarly space, surrounded by a chest-high, white-washed fence. What appeared to be an obstacle course sat at the far end. Training dummies and raised platforms dotted the space, and a small, roped-in area made a makeshift arena. Her eyes wandered to the left where rows of weapons waited a capable hand. Her fingers twitched at the sight of the bows. How long had it been since she’d practiced? Somehow, she didn’t think Cadmus would allow her to train with anything but her Gift.
Arthur stood by the weapons rack, watching her approach as a cat watches a mouse. A dozen disciples waited quietly behind him, feet apart and hands clasped behind their backs.
“Disciple Tovaline, thank you for bringing my new pupil.”
“Don’t damage her too much. Cadmus wants her alive,” Tova said
, giving her a push forward.
“In one piece?”
“It wasn’t specifically stated, but I would assume so, yes.”
“Pity. She doesn’t need all her fingers to wield her Gift. Or her toes.” Arthur’s eyes glinted dangerously, making Mara take a step back. Couldn’t anyone else train her? Preferably someone who wasn’t so bloodthirsty?
“Regardless, it’s in your best interests to leave them attached. I’ll be back in an hour to retrieve whatever is left.” Tova pulled something from her robes and handed it to the Head Disciple. “This is the key to her Deleos. See to it that she is restrained when you are through.”
Arthur nodded and tossed the keys to a female disciple. Mara jerked as she recognized the Ignis that had nearly incinerated her a few days ago. The Ignis stalked over with a scowl that suggested she’d rather stick her hand in a dung pile than touch Mara long enough to remove the Deleos. If her murderous expression was anything to go by, this training session would not go well.
Mara recoiled as the Ignis reached for her cuffs. She didn’t want to hurt the disciples, even though they were her enemies. Or were they? Ethan’s words echoed in her mind. Not all the disciples were here willingly. She doubted that losing control and killing them all would win her potential allies, and without Ethan here to support her, an accident was a strong possibility. Could she convince Arthur to allow Ethan to sit in on the session?
“Uh . . . Arthur?” she asked tentatively.
His head whipped around to sneer at her and he stalked over, shouting in her face. “You will address me as Head Disciple or Sir. The Head Magi might consider you to be some sort of special pet, but to me, you’re nothing but the scum that killed my disciples.”
“I’m sorry,” Mara looked to the ground. As an afterthought she tacked on, “Sir.”
He turned to walk away, and she added in a rush, “It’s just that I thought we should have Magi Ethan here. As a safety precaution, I mean. You obviously value the lives of your disciples, and I don’t want any of them to get hurt.”
Arthur’s face turned as red as his hair, and the veins in his neck pulsed, bulging out so far Mara was afraid they would pop. Then, he burst out laughing, doubling over and smacking a meaty hand on his leg. “You think I’m afraid for my disciples?”
“Um . . . yes?”
“The only one who should be afraid is you. After my disciples are through with you, the Head Magi will have to scrape what’s left of you off the ground.”
“But I thought—”
“You thought what? That I would be cowed by Tovaline? She’s one of my disciples. She doesn’t get special treatment because she’s the Head Magi’s daughter, and neither does that good-for-nothing, disgraced Magi.” He leaned in close and Mara suppressed a shudder. “And if you ever think to tell me what to do on my training grounds again, I’ll shred you to pieces myself. Understood?”
Mara swallowed and nodded, keeping her eyes firmly planted on the ground.
“Good. Tahlia!” He barked, causing Mara to jump. “Unlock her restraints.”
The Ignis stepped forward and removed the cuffs, tucking them into her pocket.
Mara choked on the rush of power as it surged through her veins. She swayed, shaking her head to dispel a wave of dizziness. Energy sprang unbidden to her palms, swirling up her arms until it covered her like a cloak. She spread her feet apart and took deep, ragged breaths. Was it just her, or was it getting harder to control her Gift?
“Begin.”
Before she could get her bearings, four disciples rushed her. It was all she could do to dodge their attacks. They chased her relentlessly, not pausing to let her catch her breath. Arthur’s mocking laughter rose up over the commotion.
“Are you an Impriga? Because you’re running like a Propiro, girl!”
She ground her teeth, twisting out of the way as a Tellum launched an arrow at her side. How was this considered training? The last time she had barely been able to beat six disciples, and now they expected her to win against twelve?
No, they didn’t want her to win. They wanted revenge.
As she was distracted by the realization, a gust of wind slammed her into a training dummy. Pain flared in her ribs as she felt them crack. Mara clutched her side, stifling a moan. Two disciples took advantage of her injury, skirting around the side to trap her in the open. Acting on instinct, she threw out a shield that pushed them back, feet scraping in the dirt. She ducked as a fireball flew at her head, its flames licking at her scalp.
What was she doing? It wasn’t like she could run forever. She was merely delaying the inevitable.
Resolve forming, she stopped and spread her arms to the side. She closed her eyes, waiting for the pain. They wouldn’t stop until she was punished.
They wanted revenge? Then let them have it.
“Hold!”
Mara cracked an eye open. An Armis stood two feet away, his glowing hatchet inches from her face. She scrambled back, tripping over her feet and falling in the dirt.
Arthur growled and stormed over. “You think I’ll let you give up that easy? That you won’t have to fight back? Pathetic. I’ve taken dumps with more character than you! Again!” He leaned down, breathing in her face. “And this time, don’t run away. You turn tail and I’ll make sure you can’t walk for a week.”
The disciples returned to their original places. Mara took a deep breath, readying her shield. She had allowed fear to make her sloppy, and she nearly paid for it with her life. Arthur was going to take his pound of flesh from her, no matter what, but he wanted to draw it out as long as possible. But she didn’t have to make it easy for him.
The second he called for them to begin again, she formed a shield. It deflected their attacks, but it wouldn’t last long. She watched quietly as they threw everything they had, waiting for her defense to crumble.
In the end, they overpowered her.
She hobbled to bed, freshly bruised.
9
Mara gradually settled into a routine. Education consumed her mornings and training her afternoons. But as the days passed, her resentment grew. Since the execution, Ethan refused to talk of escape and anytime she brought it up, he subtly changed the subject, avoiding her eyes with practiced ease. Oh, he was as friendly as usual, and she hadn’t missed how many times she’d caught him staring at her from across the room, but it was as though he’d forgotten his promise. Or perhaps it was more than that. Maybe he wanted to keep her at Order Headquarters. The little voice in the back of her head said that he was afraid of her getting hurt, too.
Since then, she kept her eyes open. If he wouldn’t help her, she would do it herself. She studied the guard rotations. Which disciples never let their guard down, and which ones let their eyes wander every time an attractive disciple sauntered by. It wasn’t much, but it had to be enough. Her only regret was not squirreling away provisions, but that would tip off Cadmus to her plans. No, whenever she made her escape, it would have to be spontaneous to give her the best chance to get away.
But not matter how much she imagined running away, there was one problem. How would she have a chance if they never left her alone?
And now, she was stuck in the training yard, right in the middle of another outrageously unfair Mara-bashing session.
She channeled her frustration into an energy shield and pushed it outward, knocking back the twenty disciples that sparred against her. More than usual, today, but maybe Head Disciple Arthur was in a bad mood. They would beat her eventually—they always did—but until then, she would make them earn every bruise they left on her body.
The training might have been a farce, but there was one benefit. She was getting stronger by the day.
Without giving them time to recover, she lashed out, binding their hands with ropes of energy—a handy trick she learned yesterday. Before she could pull them closer to syphon their energy, a horn blared. Her head whipped toward the Magi building, and the rope to fizzled to nothing. She cursed under her bre
ath, expecting the disciples to rush her. But rather than capitalize on her mistake, the disciples froze, tilting their heads to listen.
Three blasts.
Nervous murmurs broke out among the group. They looked to Arthur for guidance, but he was already sprinting across the training yard in the direction of the Magi building. Frowning, Tahlia hurried over to Mara. She clasped the Deleos around her wrists and turned away, apparently following the Head Disciple’s lead.
Mara grabbed her arm to stop her. “Wait, what’s going on?”
Tahlia glared at her hand until Mara dropped it awkwardly. “Emergency. We need to get to our buildings now.” Then, she turned and ran toward the Disciple building.
In the chaos, the disciples hurried past without sparing her a second glance. It was like she’d become invisible. Her heart thudded. Didn’t they realize she was unguarded? She glanced toward the Magi building, expecting to see Cadmus watching her from a window. Was this a trick?
Trick or not, she wasn’t about to pass on this opportunity.
Her feet moved of their own accord, taking her past the Novice building, toward the iron fence. She pressed against the wall and peered around the side. Not a single guard in sight. It felt as empty as the day they had stormed the place.
A quick look behind her revealed that no one was chasing her. How was this possible?
She gripped the bars, pulling herself up with little more than determination.
On the other side, Mara dropped into a crouch, listening for signs of pursuit. And then she was bolting like a rabbit across the rocky field. If she could just make it to the forest beyond, she would have cover. She could disappear. And then she’d head straight for Stonehollow to warn them that Cadmus was coming. Because he would come, there was no question of that. His threat nipped at her heels like a pack of ravenous wolves, forcing her to run, even when her side seized painfully in a cramp.
She burst through the tree line. Briars tore at her clothes and skin as she stumbled past, leaving a lacework of stinging red cuts behind. How many miles until the nearest town? Five? Ten? If she could just make it that far, she could steal a horse and some food.
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