The Black Mage: Candidate

by Rachel E. Carter

  A flare of anger. “You have no idea what it’s like—”

  I cut him off, a new surge of indignation rising to the surface. “You know what? You are right. I probably won’t win the Black Robe. But at least I will earn my place in that tourney. You? Well, you’ll never know. Because a boy with the world at his feet? He’s never truly earned anything.”

  “Better to be the boy with the world at his feet than the reckless lowborn who wouldn’t amount to anything without my help.” Darren’s snarl was the last thing I heard before the door slammed shut in my face.

  He didn’t come back to apologize. I know because I waited. After fifteen minutes of hating myself, Paige burst through the door.

  The knight ignored my red-rimmed eyes and started to drag me by the arm toward the castle exit.

  “You’ll have plenty of time for that on the ride back.” For once she spoke without sarcasm, but her pity only made it worse.

  I wiped my eyes, determined to keep from crying until we were on the road, and I could blame it on the bright winter sun. I didn’t want any of the servants to report back to Darren. I needed to look strong; I wanted the court to remember my moments standing up against the Pythians, not the crippled girl who let a prince get the best of her.

  “Let’s get out of this place.” I would prove him wrong. The non-heir might have helped me initially, but I had clawed my way up from the very bottom rung of the Academy, and I wasn’t done. I had earned my rank and my potential was improving every day. I could still win.

  He is just jealous.

  Darren was falling behind, and I was in no mood to play the doting wife. I wasn’t going to remain at the palace to appease his insecurities. He could fret over Ian all he wanted. I would train in the north, and while Darren was busy with Crown affairs, I was going to pass his blasted potential and shock the whole country when the former lowborn Ryiah was declared Black Mage instead. And only after I wiped that insolent smirk off his face would I accept his long, drawn out apology.

  Because wrapped up in conceit the size of Jerar was my Darren. Somewhere. Deep, deep down. And that part I loved. With every bit of my being.

  I just vehemently hated the rest.

  Paige and I were five feet away from the palace doors when I realized who was waiting at their exit.

  Would I never be free of the Crown?

  I approached with caution. “Blayne.”

  “So full of distrust.” The crown prince made a clucking noise at my leery expression. “And to think I came bearing gifts.”

  I fought every instinct I had not to scoff. Any present from him was not without its price. I waited for him to reveal this “gift.”

  The young man dug a drawstring purse from the satchel in his hands and tossed it my way. I reached out to catch it and almost dropped it from the unexpected weight.

  Peeking inside I saw the leather pouch was stuffed to its brim with coin. Not just any coin, but gold. Enough to feed a village for a lifetime—enough to feed several villages, in fact. My arms sagged under its bulk, and it was all I could do not to gape.

  “What—how?”

  “It’s all my father would allow.” Blayne sounded pleased. “It’s not much, of course, but you did ask my brother for aid. For the north.”

  “The north,” I echoed, still not quite comprehending the wealth in my hands. I had forgotten all about my request until this moment.

  “Consider it a parting gift. After your speech the last night, it was the least that I could do.”

  “T-thank you, truly—”

  Blayne waved his hand in disregard. “Our interests are the same, Ryiah. Perhaps now you will be more willing to forgive the transgressions of our past.”

  I nodded dumbly and watched as he peeled himself off the wall and faded into one of the corridors behind.

  I finished stuffing the satchel into my now-overflowing pack and followed Paige to the waiting stable-hands and our mares outside.

  She waited until we had passed through the palace gates and the main city onto the King’s Road itself before she finally spoke her opinion aloud.

  “I thought you hated him.” She didn’t bother to say whom.

  “I…” I paused. Anger at Darren was still taking up the majority of my thoughts, but Blayne was confusing me as well. What was he up to? Everything he did was surprising me. More than once he’d had the opportunity to make my stay difficult, and yet everything he did had been in my best interest. I didn’t trust him, but it really did seem as if he were trying to make amends.

  I studied the white tree line ahead of us. “My feelings don’t matter one way or the other.” Blayne was to be king regardless. “If he wants to claim amity, who am I to refuse?”

  Chapter Nine

  When Paige and I returned to the keep, our arrival was met with enthusiasm. Correspondence from the capital had preceded our arrival, but the commander and her regiment were eager to hear the news first hand.

  “Of course a treatise hasn’t been signed,” I finished, fumbling under the commander’s intense scrutiny. I could never tell what she was thinking. “But the Pythians agreed to extend their visit, and even their ambassador believes it is only a matter of time.”

  “Well, this is quite a…development.” The commander grasped a hot mug of cider tightly in hand. “I think I speak for most when I say none of us anticipated this news.” She paused and took a long sip from her cup. Her knuckles were white. “We hoped, of course, but hope never wins a war.”

  “That’s not all.”

  The woman’s eyes bulged as I took out Prince Blayne’s purse and emptied its contents onto the table between us.

  “W-what’s this?” she breathed.

  “I petitioned Dar -the Crown- to help the North… The king couldn’t grant as much as I’m sure the border towns need—but I was hoping this would help?”

  “Help?” The commander stared at me, studying my face for a sign of what, I wasn’t sure. “It has been a great many years since the north received attention from the Crown.” She inhaled sharply. “This will go a long way towards rebuilding their villages. I continue to underestimate your value to our keep.” She paused in afterthought. “And the Crown.”

  “I-it wasn’t just me.” I scratched at my arm. I never would have even thought to ask without Ian’s prompting, and it was Darren and Blayne who had actually seen to the favor. I tried to explain, but she wouldn’t let me finish.

  “We live in a world of kings. Like it or not, not everyone’s request would make such an impression.” Her expression was detached. “My men have sent the same petition for years, and this is the first time King Lucius has ever granted an exception.”

  Was that true? I cringed and realized her compliments weren’t quite as innocent as I had been led to believe.

  “Never regret your influence.” The commander crooked her teeth in what I supposed was a cheery smile. “I will begin to make disbursements in the morning. I suspect many of the others will be a bit easier to contend with after they hear the news.”

  “You knew about that?”

  “Some of my soldiers are a bit harder to please.” She gave me a reassuring grasp on the shoulder as she showed me to the door. “I advise you not to pay them any attention.”

  I coughed uncomfortably. “Thank you, Commander.”

  “No, thank you, Mage Ryiah.”

  The level of gratitude was overwhelming, and as Paige followed me to the barracks I realized how earnest Ian’s request had truly been. I had never grown up in the north. My stint of service didn’t begin to cover the shortcomings resulting from the Caltothian border raids.

  It made me upset to realize how much must have been behind Ian’s petition to help. I was ashamed of my own ignorance, and a part of me was upset he had been right in assuming I could make the difference the Commander’s appeals could not. I wasn’t comfortable with that influence, and something about Nyx’s words reminded me of Darren’s speech several years before:

&nbs
p; “People make mistakes all the time—some of us are just in more of a position to leave an impact when we do.” Impact. Influence. Somehow along the way I had joined the circle of people whose actions dictated change, and it scared me how easy it would be to make the wrong one.

  “Paige, will you tell me if you think I am making the wrong decision?”

  “Wrong decision for what, my lady?” The knight had already collapsed onto her bunk, grateful to lie down after a long, cold week of travel.

  I sat down on my cot, pulling the covers up to my chest. The rest of the barracks occupants were already fast asleep. “For anything.”

  “Gladly.” She pointed to my water skin. “You’re making the wrong one right now. You should always ask your guard if she requires the last drink.”

  “Paige!”

  She rolled her eyes and settled in for the night. I heard soft snores coming from her just a moment later.

  So much for help. I threw the water in her direction half-heartedly but she didn’t move. I tossed and turned and I had almost fallen asleep when she finally spoke:

  “You haven’t made one yet, my lady.”

  I fervently hoped she was right.

  ****

  My next two weeks at the keep flew by. Since my unit was still away on patrols for the first seven days I used my brief break to train alongside the Combat mages on reprieve. Most of them were older men and women closer to my parents’ age than my own. Their focus was primarily on physical conditioning since the majority of their magic stores had started to diminish with age. They had to be extremely selective in casting, and I found it very interesting to study their process of choosing.

  We trained hard day after day, and during our breaks they offered critiques on my casting. I exerted too much pressure in a lot of my magic—still, and while I was refined in my pain casting, I was lacking in traditional casting.

  During my time at the Academy most of my masters had been so focused on revealing the depths of my potential they had never sought to polish the castings at hand. Master Byron had all but ignored me during the apprenticeship when he hadn’t been openly insulting my technique, and so the older mages’ feedback now was much more invaluable because of it.

  Practicing a simple casting over and over to varying degrees of concentration was tedious, but after Darren’s remarks the day I left Devon, I was determined to try anything and everything in the hopes he had missed something important on his own. Because now more than ever I was determined to win.

  I had always seen Darren as a rival, but for the longest time I hadn’t seriously contemplated my role. Our trial year I had just been lucky to snag an apprenticeship in the same faction. During the apprenticeship most of our competitive nature had been lost to an uncertain romance and Master Byron’s bias. But now that we were training apart and with the Candidacy quickly approaching? Now that I was only one rank away from the non-heir’s status? Now that he said I would never be as good as him?

  Now our rivalry had reared its ugly head, and I for one embraced it. Some small part of me had always known it would come to this. Neither Darren nor I were blameless. No one ever made it into Combat without ambition, and those of us that did had been cultivating a lust for power for years.

  Common sense dictated I accept my inevitable loss.

  But I was tired of being second-best.

  ****

  “So Ray got promoted while I was away?” I stared at the missing mage’s spot in our riding formation. I had noticed his absence when my unit had returned from patrols, but I had assumed he had taken a leave of absence. Advancement so soon into our service hadn’t crossed my mind, and even if it had I wouldn’t have thought Ray would be the first to obtain it. Ian, perhaps, with his extra year of expertise or me. But Ray…he hadn’t saved our unit during the bandit attack in the mountains, and…

  You might as well admit the truth. I frowned as the bitter thought took over. You are a better rank.

  Maybe I was mistaken. Maybe there was another reason.

  “What…” I cleared my throat and tried again. “What wonderful news.”

  Lief didn’t notice the strange lilt to my tone. “His performance was exceptional. He will do well in Sir Maxon’s squad.” The man gave me an easy grin. “Don’t worry, Ryiah, I suspect you will be next.”

  But why wasn’t I first?

  I waited until the lead mage was busy in conversation with my knight before I pulled closer to Ian, slowing my mare’s progress. Maybe now that our leader was gone he would be willing to share an opinion.

  The next couple of minutes passed in silence.

  “Great news for Ray,” I prompted.

  Ian adjusted his reigns. “I should say so.”

  “It doesn’t bother you at all?”

  The curly-haired mage gave me a puzzled smile. “Why would it bother me?”

  “Lief just insinuated you would be last up for a promotion.” He had also stated that Ray’s performance had been exceptional—when I had been the one to save our unit from the bandits. But if I mentioned that now it would sound like I was jealous.

  Maybe I was. Ray was a great person, and a good Combat mage, but even he had admitted to being less powerful than I. Why shouldn’t Ian or I get the promotion first? I had the best rank and Ian was ahead of both of us in years of service.

  It made no sense.

  “Oh, that?” Ian shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry about it. I trust in Lief’s judgment. He sees things the rest of us miss.”

  Even Byron? Well, the master was only paying close attention to Darren in our apprenticeship anyway. Suddenly, I was nervous. What if I wasn’t even second rank? What if it was supposed to be Ray, and Master Byron had just been too nervous around Marius to say so? The Black Mage had paid me special attention to annoy my training master—perhaps he had never noticed there was someone better.

  Is that what Darren was insinuating the day I left?

  No. I dug my nails into my palms to draw my thoughts away from the doubt. Don’t start to question it now. Lief just made a mistake. People make mistakes all the time.

  But what if it was Byron who made the mistake? My head hurt. I buried my face in my hands and groaned. Stop thinking, Ryiah. Any more questions were only going to bring out every insecurity I had ever fought since that first day at the Academy.

  I needed to change the subject, fast.

  I opened my mouth but Ian beat me to it. “So I heard some interesting news.”

  I started. “Y-you did?”

  “Rumor is going around that Commander Nyx received a generous sum from the Crown.” The corners of his eyes were crinkled. “You wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you, Ry?”

  “It was your idea,” I mumbled. “If you hadn’t suggested it, I never would have thought to ask.” For all the trouble I had put Ian through in the course of our apprenticeship, here was something that I could do for him.

  He cocked his head to the side. “Did you go to the king directly, or…?”

  “Darren. He petitioned his brother.” I paused, guiltily. There were only three people I personally knew who held the crown prince with as little regard as I: one of them was Ian and the other two were my best friend and twin. Now was probably not the best time to mention that Blayne’s aid was a form of “amends.” “Blayne holds more sway with his father.”

  Ian looked away and studied his hands. “How was your return to the palace? I imagine the visit was much more pleasant with your new role?”

  I snorted. “Hardly. I spent a week taking lessons in decorum and the rest of the time watching the court pretend I didn’t exist—when they weren’t trying to win my favor.”

  He raised an exaggerated brow. “I’m sure there were some advantages.”

  Getting picked apart by the Pythian ambassador and threatened by the king? I shook my head, and drew my hair back into a knot. “If there are I have yet to discover them.” I paused, realizing how selfish I sounded even to myself. “Except for my o
wn chamber. That was nice.”

  “Well I’m sure Darren was happy to see you.”

  “He was…” Right until the time he found out about you. I swallowed.

  Ian caught my expression. “Let me guess, the young princeling found out I was here and assumed it was part of my nefarious plan to steal your heart.” The mage chuckled and looked skyward. “Well, I can’t say I missed him either. The next time you see your betrothed, please remind him not all of us sink to his level of treachery to get the girl.”

  I cringed. This conversation had not taken a favorable course. I wasn’t pleased with Darren either but… But this wasn’t making the situation any better. These two would never be friends, too many wrongs, and there was nothing I could do to set them right.

  “Alright everyone, you know the routine. Tend to your mounts and then see to the camp.” Sir Gavin’s voice rang out loud and clear. Ian and I started from our thoughts.

  The mage kept his eyes on the pine ahead as the two of us dismounted and walked across the clearing to where the rest of the party had started to tie up their charges. “In any case, I am happy he was decent enough to help you with the request.”

  I felt the tension leave my shoulders. I exhaled quietly. “Thank you, Ian.”

  He looked up, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know you’ve been having trouble being accepted around here because of your new status, but I think this will go a long way toward changing the stubborn ones’ opinions.”

  I nodded, not quite believing and still hoping desperately he and Commander Nyx would prove me wrong. So far I hadn’t noticed a difference.

  Everyone was still treating me with the same amount of hostility as before. Although, to be fair, I hadn’t made that much of an effort to mingle.

  In truth, since my return I’d been more isolated than usual. I was still upset over the way Darren and I had left things, and between my anger and his residual taunt I had become obsessed with my training both as a diversion and a way to prove the non-heir wrong. So much so that I had stopped taking meals with the rest of my unit. Who realized how much longer it took to eat surrounded by conversation? And while I was sure it didn’t help my relations with the squad, it did amass an extra hour between the three meals of the day for drills.