No one and nothing was going to hold me back.
IT WAS the evening of the winter solstice and frost was in the air. Frost and excitement. We were all a bit mad with the prospect of a reprieve.
That and a night of festivities.
It was a disaster trying to dress with a herd of other girls competing over the mirrors. And some of the other dresses… I’d never seen so many laces and disturbing corsets.
My gown was a simple forest green with a cinched waist of golden thread and little else. There was no bodice or embellishments like the current trends. It was years behind the billowing sleeves and extravagant skirts. When my mother had passed the dress down, I'd been overwhelmed. It was the nicest thing that she owned. Now, next to Ella’s dramatic flare, my dress was an heirloom.
“All part of trying to catch a prince,” Ella grumbled after her turn at the mirror. I suspected she was right. Everyone wanted to look extra special for a prince. Priscilla had been stomping around all night, but for once it wasn’t me on the receiving end of her wrath.
Lowborns, I supposed, aren’t an adversary in a dress. Threadbare fashions decades old were nothing next to highborn extravagance. Ella was just kind enough not to say it.
We were one of the last to leave the barracks.
“You two are never going to believe what I just saw!” Alex called out to us as he raced down the snowy path to greet us.
It was dark, but the moon was full. It gave enough light for us to cringe at the mounds he was kicking up in his tracks.
“Alex,” Ella scolded, “you just got snow all over us.”
“Just you wait!” He snagged both our arms to drag us over to the Academy doors. We laughed and yelled, stumbling along the icy road.
“You big oaf!”
“Let us go!”
Ella and I stopped snickering as we took in the building in front of us.
Alex was grinning ear to ear. “I told you,” he crooned. “I told you it was worth it.”
All across the dark gray slabs of the Academy walls were hundreds of tiny twinkling orbs.
Every pillar and wall was covered in the tiny glass lights. They shone like beacons of violet. Even the roof and rafters glowed. It was as if the entire world had suddenly turned crystalline magenta and white.
It was the most breathtaking thing I’d ever seen in my life. A purple palace dripping with icicles.
“How did they…?”
“Alchemy.”
The three of us jumped, having not noticed Ruth’s soft-footed approach. She must’ve been waiting for us to make her entrance; like us, there were only a few people at the Academy she could stand.
“Master Tera taught us how to make the liquid glow last week. We brewed a whole batch of the stuff and handed it off to the constable's team to bottle and string.”
Alex chuckled. “No wonder the servants were in such a foul mood.” They must’ve been decorating the palace since dawn.
“It's so beautiful,” Ella said softly.
“I know.” My brother wasn’t looking at the Academy.
I made it a point to kick him in the calf. He wasn’t going to start that tonight.
But I didn’t expect Ella to reach out and squeeze his hand. “Thank you for showing us.”
“We would have seen it eventually,” I grumbled.
“I wanted to be the one to show you.”
The two were smiling, and I didn’t like where this was going at all.
I pushed forward with Ruth. “Let's see what it looks like on the inside.”
“Yes, enough of that awkward romance,” she muttered. “It’s making me uncomfortable.” That made two of us.
We hauled the Academy doors open without a look back.
Like the outside, the inside was transformed.
Ruth whistled.
The servants had lined the sandstone walls with the same combination of lights. They made the passage shimmer against the black marble floor and the pattern continued all the way through to the atrium where the festivities were held.
Inside the ballroom, long transparent curtains hung almost romantically from pillars at each corner of the room. Falling snowflakes drew a crowd to the many-paned window at the center of the stairs, and the stained-glass ceiling shown magnificently against the soft violet lights of scattered globes. There was much less lighting in here. It made the room seem ethereal, less mortal and more gods-like instead.
All along the back of the walls were gold-clothed tables with platters of delicacies, cider, and tea.
With the exception of our first night, we’d only been offered the barest selection of dishes since first-years were not, as one of the kitchen staff had pointed out, “valuable enough to receive the finer stores.” Lots of porridge, stew, and bread… It was fine as anything back home, but my tongue salivated now. The servants had been on orders to only serve the array of fresh meats and cheeses to the masters and their apprentices in the private dining room on the second floor.
“Oh, it’s been far too long!” Ella dragged me with her to one of the tables. There was a long line of students ahead, but it passed quickly enough with Alex, Ruth, and Clayton following shortly behind.
Then we sat down to eat. I tried my best not to stare at the crowds.
“Is this what it's like at court?” I was feeling out of place among all of the decadence. Everything was grand and sparkling. Out of the fifty-nine first-years that remained, only a third came from backgrounds similar to my brother's and mine. Ella and Ruth came from outlying regions rather than a full life at the capital, but they were still highborn. It still showed.
My twin was dressed in simple beige trousers with an ill-fitted jacket that was too tight for his burgeoning frame. My father had told him to save it for the end of year ceremony. We’d thought it dashing, but now all I could see were the loose threads and patches worn bare… the same with my dress.
It was easy to see why someone would want a life at court. In the center of the room, Priscilla looked the part of a princess. Smooth material cascaded down her curves in rivulets. It glistened as it moved. Delicate lace fell freely from the girl's wrists. Even her hair was elegantly coiffed with a single gold chain wrapped gracefully around her forehead.
I sighed, envious. The cost of that Borean silk alone would be enough to feed my village for a year.
Ella followed my glance and then squeezed my wrist. “You look nice in your dress, Ryiah.”
I sighed. Perhaps I did, but just then, I was too envious to note it. Tonight was just a reminder why I had to secure an apprenticeship. The coin the Crown gave to mages in service would be enough to help my parents and then some. Perhaps I was vain, but I wanted more to life than the hand I’d been dealt.
The string quartet by the stairs started a new song. It was fast and jovial—something familiar to lowborns and highborns alike. I’d heard it plenty of times over the year.
My brother wasted no time in asking Ella to dance. The two of them hurried off onto the floor, spinning and turning into the crowd. I told myself it meant nothing, but I worried as I saw him blush. I wanted Ella and my brother to be happy, but Alex had a way of breaking hearts. Even if he felt something now, sooner or later he’d move on.
A part of me wondered if I should let them be. Who was I to stand in the way? Alex had never pursued someone this seriously before; maybe Ella was different.
But what if he broke her heart? What if she wanted nothing to do with me like so many friends before? The sister of the world’s greatest flirt.
I looked away. It wasn’t a decision I could make today; perhaps it wasn’t my decision at all.
Others joined in the dance, including Ruth and Ella's shy admirer, James. The couples continued to grow, including some faces that I didn't recognize.
I sucked in a breath.
The apprentices had arrived.
Clayton sidled next to me. “Care to dance?”
I smiled apologetically. “I’d rather not.”
“No.” I waved him on. “Go ahead. Have fun with the others.” I’d rather die before having another boy trample all over my feet. Last year, a particularly heavyset one had almost broken my toes.
A moment later, Clayton was gone, and I was left to myself with four half-empty plates.
I watched the dance play out in front of me, studying the apprentices and guessing their faction by their build. I’d made it a priority to talk to one in Combat by the end of the night—preferably a lowborn girl who could give me some advice.
“How is it that a beautiful girl finds herself alone on such a night?”
I started. To my right was a young man not much older than myself. He had short, curly brown hair and hazel-green eyes. They were crinkled with silent laughter.
Even though his line was beyond ridiculous, I found myself grinning. Possibly because he wasn’t hard to look at. Not hard at all.
Was this how it was with my brother and all the girls in our village back home? No wonder they’d never stood a chance. A boy could spout the sappiest lines, and they’d fall all over themselves for a compliment.
Then again, this one was an apprentice and he could give me advice. I told myself that was the reason I flirted shamelessly back, batting my lashes.
“I find myself alone because no one has captivated my interest.”
“Perhaps I can change that.”
“I wouldn’t know, but you can try.”
“Fair enough.” The boy sat.
“Are you one of the apprentices?” I already knew he was.
He gave me a crooked grin. “Year two. Are you going to ask me which faction?”
I studied him, eyeing the white scar on his left cheek and the dark bruises on both his knuckles. “Combat.”
He laughed easily. “That would make you beautiful and clever, not too many of those here tonight.”
I swatted away his pretty words with the flip of a hand, though it was more a clumsy swipe.
He caught my wrist and leaned closer. “What’s your name?”
I couldn’t look away. There was something about him, something that made me want to smile and laugh and… and dance. I never wanted to dance. That was a warning, loud and clear. I didn’t need or want pretty distractions like boys. There’d be time for those when I was serving the Crown’s Army, casting spells in my black robe.
“Ryiah.”
“Ryiah,” the stranger chuckled. “Well, Ryiah, I’m Ian.” He let go of my hand to gesture dismissively at our surroundings. “So what do you think of the Academy? Is it everything you hoped it'd be?”
I made a face.
“I thought so.” He grinned. “It has that effect on all of us.”
“Was it so bad for you?”
He nodded. “It wasn’t pleasant, but then it never is. Nobody actually expects lowborns to last.” So he clearly knew from my dress. “But I made sure to prove them wrong.”
I sighed. “I’m still trying.”
“Surely you’re not that bad.”
Ha. I arched a brow.
“A lot can change in the time you have left.”
“Five months is not enough time to catch up.” Not enough to pass the others. I had to be one of five to secure an apprenticeship. That was not the most favorable odds.
“You'd be surprised.”
I laughed. “The only way I'll win this thing is by luck.”
“May I?”
Before I could react, Ian had snatched my palm and brought it to his lips with a mischievous smile.
“I have been told my kiss brings good luck,” he said wickedly.
I snatched my hand away, albeit regretfully. The boy was clearly the best part of my evening. “You must have kissed a lot of girls to get that kind of reputation.”
“Maybe, but that doesn't make the gesture any less sincere.”
“I—” For the first time, I was speechless, and I knew my cheeks were flaming red. “Don’t do that!”
His grin didn’t falter. “I never play at matters of the heart.”
“I think you play at them all.”
“Ian.” A pretty apprentice appeared at our table with a teasing smile. “Are you going to pester the poor girl all night or are you going to ask me to dance?”
“Anything for you, Lynn.” Ian stood, brushing off his pants with a look at me. “Unless you would prefer my company instead?”
“Go on.” I was grateful for the reprieve. It gave me a chance to breathe.
Ian caught my arm as he passed. “This won’t be the last time we meet.”
Lynn giggled. “The apprentices leave at dawn for Ferren’s Keep, lover boy. Unless you forgot, we’re a part of that.”
“Ah.” His dimple twitched. “But Ryiah is lucky now. The next time we meet, she’ll be an apprentice of Combat.”
“How…?” I gaped. I'd never told him my faction.
“Master Byron likes to know the top contenders for next year. The whole faction heard all about the mid-year tourney earlier this week, and since you're the only first-year girl with red hair that looks like she has something to prove, I had a pretty good idea of who I was talking to.”
I STEPPED outside the Academy doors and slammed them shut with a huff. It was still early in the evening, too soon for anyone else to have left the celebrations behind.
At first, I’d only intended on stepping out for a minute. But after hearing how my humiliation had been the entertainment for every apprentice mage in Combat, I'd been overcome with the overwhelming desire to run away and never look back. Since that was not a viable option in the dead of winter, my next best option was to get as far away from the residents as I could.
I didn’t want another charming apprentice to smile and flirt and then tell me I was a joke. Maybe Ian hadn’t meant it—he’d been a lowborn with something to prove too—but that didn’t take away from my mood.
It’d taken me all of a month and a half to forget that day with Priscilla, and only seconds to bring the emotions crumbling back.
I plodded through the snow, unaware of where I was going, until I found myself at the entrance of the armory. The bottoms of my dress and cloak were dripping with slush, and my hair, which had been pinned neatly back for the ball, was now a wet, curling disaster. I should’ve been upset that I had ruined my mother’s dress, but in that moment, I would’ve gladly ruined a dozen of the same if I'd thought it would bring me any peace.
I tried the handle on the armory door.
It was unlocked. Good. I needed to escape, and I wasn’t ready to go back to the barracks or the Academy’s halls.
I conjured a bit of light in my left hand as I entered the building quietly. All around me shadows danced. My casting's flame reflected off the silver blades lining the armory walls.
I discarded my cloak and let it slip to the floor as I approached the back of the room. Near the wall was another door leading to a second room that first-years had used for practice once or twice when the snow got to be too much.
The second room was composed entirely of mirrors. I could see myself everywhere I turned, an angry girl unfit for Combat. Ian was right. I did look like I had something to prove.
Going back to the main room, I grabbed a candle and a broadsword off its rack and returned to the mirrors. I lit the sconce in the second room and then turned to face the glass.
Almost unconsciously, I started the swordsman drills I’d practiced so many times in class. One by one, my steps gave way to an intricate dance of blades. I slashed and cut in rhythm, never striking the same spot of air, while I watched my form in the mirrors.
It was strangely soothing as I picked up my pace and continued the assault. Forward and back, striking left and feinting right, I parried each attack until I became familiar with its replication in the mirrors.
Then, I cast an opposing blade to deflect my broadsword's assault. I continued the dance, metal and magicked metal meeting at every turn.
; Each time I struck, my casting blocked, again and again.
I wasn't sure exactly how it happened, but as the exchange continued, my magic no longer needed me to direct it when and where to go to parry each blow. It just moved. I didn’t have to concentrate to cast.
“Very good.”
Startled, I dropped my blade and the casting disappeared.
The prince stood, leaning against the doorway, watching me.
Did he follow me?
Darren looked particularly disconcerting tonight in a fitted leather vest and dark pants. After seeing him so many days in training breeches and tunics, I’d forgotten how morose his attire usually was.
“What are you doing here?” I wasn’t sure whether to be pleased the prince had given me a compliment or mad that he interrupted me. I wanted to be angry, but it was hard when the prince didn't have the usual condescension that was always written across his face.
Darren took a step forward, ignoring my question. Instead of answering, he motioned for me to pick up my blade.
Does he intend for us to fight?
I reached down to grab the hilt of my sword, and by the time I had pulled myself back up, the non-heir was holding a blade of his own.
“Begin,” he said.
I didn't know what to do. I’d never sparred with the prince. Priscilla, yes, and once Jake, but never Darren. He was the best there was, and Piers only ever paired him with the top of our class, which I was certainly not.
Darren saw the hesitation in my eyes. “Ryiah, I’m trying to help you.”
I clutched the sword and widened my stance. You can do this, I decided. You've got nothing to lose. No one could see us; no one would notice when I lost.
Darren began to circle, and I imitated his pattern. The mirrors were distracting, but I forced myself to concentrate solely on the dark-haired prince instead. He was almost cat-like in his movements, lunging in and out with a surprising grace that bespoke of years of practice and control.
After a couple of minutes, it was painfully obvious the non-heir was holding back.
“Just get on with it.” I gritted my teeth and blocked an easy strike with one of my own. “I know you’re better than this.”
The Black Mage: Complete Series Page 16