The Black Mage: Complete Series

by Rachel E. Carter

  “What happens if the enemy is someone you care about?” they pressed. “Someone you would never expect?”

  I folded my arms. “My loyalty is to the Crown and Jerar.”

  “But what would you do?” They wanted more.

  The ugliest war in history was two centuries ago between a pair of kings who’d been lovers. I’d spent hours pouring over those scrolls; it was fascinating. “A true warrior puts her country before everything else. It’s a sacrifice everyone should be prepared to make.”

  “You would put Jerar before everything else? Your family, your friends, even your lover?”

  “I would. I would press that advantage and do whatever needs to be done.” I would give myself to the people and be the hero I’d read about as a child, the kind of mage who slays dragons and saves kingdoms from slaughter.

  The girl who saves the world.

  Darren had told me I could still win this. So had Ella.

  Was an apprenticeship such an impossible goal?

  I pretended it wasn’t.

  THE NEXT TWO days were the longest of my life. I spent the time in restless wonder, following my friends around the small town of Sjeka and trying not to think about what lie ahead.

  “It's in the hands of the gods now.” Alex looked sick as Ella and I tore into a sticky bun from a nearby stall. Some of us ate when we were nervous and others—like my twin—puked all over the village square. Repeatedly. “I should stop torturing myself, but I can’t.”

  We had five more hours before the naming ceremony. All of us were trying to pretend the trepidation didn’t bother us as much as it did.

  Ella scanned the rest of the crowd. “I'm surprised your adoring fans haven't tended to your injured pride.” She’d intended for her comment to come off lightly, but the slight resentment in her tone destroyed any pretense of indifference.

  “I sent them away days ago,” he mumbled. “There’s only one that I want.”

  Ella scowled. “Well, I hope she’s got half a brain to push you away before she gets hurt.”

  “Oh, she’s got a brain. That’s the problem.”

  “Good,” she huffed, “I hope she doesn’t lose it!”

  Oh, Ella, she didn’t even realize—no, it was better this way.

  Alex shot me a pleading look, and I just shook my head. I mouthed the words, “Don’t you dare,” but he was too busy staring after the oblivious girl he liked.

  What would happen if he courted my best friend? Could I handle the fallout? Would it even matter if we failed out of the Academy? Alex and Ella would never cross paths again.

  For a second, I considered sticking my meddling nose in the sand. Alex and Ella had been dancing around one another for months, and I’d seen how he looked at her when he thought I wasn’t looking. It wasn’t just a game to him anymore. Somewhere in the course of the year, my brother had actually started to admire Ella for more than a pretty face.

  Come to think of it… Alex hadn’t courted a single girl since we’d arrived.

  And Ella… she was charmed by him; she was just too stubborn to admit it. She was probably also afraid of me. I’d made my stance on my womanizing brother perfectly clear.

  Blast it, I was a terrible friend. People deserved to make their own mistakes.

  “Alex, don’t move.”

  My brother froze, swatting at the air. “What is it? Last time you told me that, a spider—”

  “It’s not a spider, you dolt. Just stay there.” I ran after Ella and pulled her to the side of the street, away from my brother’s hearing.

  “What’s wrong?” Ella’s lashes fluttered in alarm.

  I sucked in a sharp breath and let it out with a sigh. “My brother likes you. He really likes you, and I think you like him too.”

  “I…” Her skin darkened in a becoming blush. My best friend was too pretty for her own good; no wonder Alex chased after her for a year.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I can’t promise you won’t get hurt, but I—” Another deep breath “—I promise to stop meddling. I think you two deserve a chance. If you are interested. I won’t hold it against you because I love you both—”

  Ella’s arms went around my neck. “Thank you, Ry.”

  “He doesn’t know.” My face was red with embarrassment. “I thought I’d tell you first. In case you didn’t—”

  Her smile was hesitant. “Do you really think he’s changed?”

  “I think he’s trying.” It was as much as I could give.

  “Well, well, isn't that just precious.” A sneer tore the two of us apart.

  Groaning, I released Ella to face the bane of my existence. Or at least a very unpleasant thorn.

  “Oh, please don't stop on our account.” Priscilla smirked with one arm wrapped tightly around Darren’s waist. “This will be our last chance to see your touching friendship before we go on to our apprenticeship. Darren and I need a good laugh, don’t we?”

  Darren's eyes met mine, and my throat became unbearably dry.

  Neither of us spoke. I was too busy remembering the encounter in the stairwell. I couldn’t summon my usual hate.

  “Go haunt somewhere else, Priscilla.” Gods, I loved Ella in that moment. “Surely there’s a drafty wing in the Academy for harpies like you.”

  The beauty laughed, but her eyes flashed with heat. “Come, Darren. We've got to return to the castle in time for the ceremony.” She put her hand lightly to his chest as she whispered loudly: “I have something special to wear for this evening. I had it especially picked out with you in mind.”

  Her eyes fell to me, and she smirked. “It will be the perfect opportunity to announce our betrothal.”

  My eyes flew to Darren as something kicked at my gut.

  The prince was a stone, not one emotion flickering across his face as emotion whirled up around mine.

  The prince and Priscilla left the square without another word. I stared at the spot where they’d stood long after they disappeared.

  Had I really thought I was special after one reckless kiss? Darren was a prince. I’d known all about the upcoming engagement for a year.

  I’d never wanted him, so I wasn’t sure why everything burned. I was better than this.

  “Ry?”

  I felt as if someone had ripped my lungs right out of my chest. I shook my head, unwilling to speak.

  “After you came back from your trial, you asked me about that night when I was twelve…” Ella cleared her throat. “I tried to pain cast like you, but I couldn’t.”

  What was she talking about? I stopped staring and turned to her.

  “If I can’t pain cast after all this time, then it couldn’t have been my magic the night his brother attacked me.” Her voice was soft. “That’s why you asked, wasn’t it? It was him.”

  Gods, I needed to hate the prince.

  But just now, I couldn’t.

  MUCH LATER THAT EVENING, Ella and I were standing before our reflection in the looking glass of our barrack's quarters. She had lent me one of her many dresses for the occasion, a deep blue gown that would “capture the gray-blue of my eyes.” It was even more spectacular than her dress at solstice. I tried to tell her that it didn't matter what I wore, but she was of a different opinion.

  “This is a night to be proud.” Ella helped brush out my scarlet locks into something more manageable. “Whether our names are called or not, we completed a year where others failed. That is not something anyone can take away from us.”

  We finished dressing, and I linked my arm in hers as we exited the barracks. Outside, Alex was waiting for us, looking handsome in the same clothes he had worn for the solstice.

  “Ready?” His eyes shown unusually bright as he took Ella’s other arm.

  “There's no going back now.”

  The three of us began our slow march down the path to the Academy. We greeted our families at the door and continued ahead of them as we made our way to the atrium. The place was packed, and as one of the last group
s to arrive, we were forced to wait at the back of the room.

  Standing to the right of the enormous stairway were Master Barclae, the Three Colored Robes, Sir Piers, Masters Eloise, Isaac, Cedric, Tera, and Narhari.

  King Lucius and his two sons stood expectantly at the base of the stairs, all dressed in their choice colors and fitted brocade. Priscilla linked arms with Darren, looking resplendent in a red and gold dress fitted in rubies that flared dramatically at its base.

  I swallowed at the sour taste in my mouth and forced my gaze to remain at the top of the stairs.

  Minutes later, Constable Barrius squeezed his way through the crowd and up the stairs to stoop beside the master of the Academy. He whispered something, and the man cleared his throat expectantly.

  A hushed silence fell over the room; this was the moment every one of us had been waiting for.

  The master began his speech. “Ten months ago, one hundred and twenty-two naïve, young faces stood in this very room. I told them that half would not make it past the first few months. I told them they were foolish. I told them they were wasting my time.

  “I did everything I could to encourage these students to pack their bags and leave the very next day. When that did not work, I had Sir Piers and Master Cedric take them out to the mountains with the sole purpose that they were not to return until we lost the first five. I celebrated with a ball when half the year resigned. I have continued to parade their loss until we were left with the forty-three standing in front of us now.

  “The forty-three first-years in this room are the culmination of everything a true mage should be. While they may not have the potential necessary to continue their studies, these young men and women represent the best of Jerar. Should they not go on to become mages, I am sure they will make fine knights or soldiers.” His voice drew gruff. “With that, I'd like to call forward the fifteen who will be continuing on to the exalted apprenticeships that the Council and Crown are so proud to bestow…”

  Master Barclae pulled a tightly rolled scroll from his robes, and Barrius held his torch close so that the formidable man could read from his list.

  “For Alchemy, I call forward Piper, Julian, Thomas, Ruth, and Damien.”

  The five first-years rushed forward. I barely caught a glimpse of my spritely friend as she raced up the stairway and shook the hand of Barclae and the other masters, one by one. When the commotion finished, Master Barclae had the five new apprentices of Alchemy stand along the right rail of the ascending staircase.

  “In the faction of Restoration, I would like to invite Ronan, Alexander—”

  My brother is going to be a mage.

  Ella had to gently nudge Alex to let go of her hand as he staggered forward, pale as a ghost.

  “—Kiera, Muriel, and Kaylein to the stand.” Barclae and the rest of us watched as five fumbling first-years found their way up the steps to shake hands and then stand at the left spiral of the stairs.

  “And finally, for the faction of Combat, among the twenty-two young men and women that beat out all odds… I welcome Prince Darren…”

  The crowd went wild.

  “Eve.”

  The small girl pushed her way through the masses to join the prince at the top of the steps.

  “Ella.”

  My friend screeched and ran toward the stairs. There were a couple of laughs among the audience.

  “Ray.”

  My opponent from the first trial nodded solemnly and found his way to the center of the dais.

  “And finally, for the last apprenticeship of the evening…”

  My heart stopped.

  I knew it was foolish to hope, especially when Master Barclae still hadn't called her name, but I still held on. More than anything, I wanted the master of the Academy to say mine.

  “Lady Priscilla of Langli.”

  I watched as the girl ascended the steps. I watched as her dress glistened across the dais. I even watched as she accepted Master Barclae’s outstretched hand.

  Priscilla smiled prettily, shaking the hands of the masters to her right, and that was when the piercing jealousy split across my lungs. It continued to splinter as Priscilla took her place beside the prince.

  Hot tears started to pour down my face, but I was powerless to stop them. For once, I didn’t try to hide them; no one would see me when they were looking at the apprentices instead.

  The final five stood just below Master Barclae, facing their audience on the center stair.

  A slow clapping started. It continued, on and on until the room was a thundering storm of applause.

  Derrick said nothing as he slipped to my side, his hand grasping mine. My brother just held my fingers tightly, letting me grieve silently amongst the clamor of so much applause. There were other first-years like me, with tears in their eyes and a bitterness to their smiles, but we were only twenty-eight in a sea of so many broken dreams.

  I would be happy for my friends, for my brother, but this moment was too soon. Alex, Ruth, and Ella were somewhere up there with the other twelve apprentices living out their wildest dreams.

  I was not.

  And it hurt more than words could tell.

  For a couple of days, I had actually managed to convince myself I had a chance.

  Master Barclae motioned for everyone to settle down so that he could start a speech. “Let us all congratulate our newest order of apprentices—”

  I could not stay any longer. It was too much.

  I turned to leave, letting go of Derrick's hand to exit the crowd.

  “Master Barclae.” The voice of the Black Mage was urgent.

  The master of the Academy sounded irate. “What is it, Marius?”

  “The Council and I would like to invite one more to take an apprenticeship tonight.”

  “We would?”

  I turned, slowly, to see the other Colored Robes giving the Black Mage a strange look.

  “Yes.”

  “We already have our fifteen!”

  The man refused to back down. “I am enacting my right as the Black Mage to include one more apprentice for Combat.”

  “It has always been fifteen—”

  “In the school’s founding, it was more.” The Black Mage stepped forward to address the audience and the king. “It was too many at the time. We lost more lives than we gained… Yet, it has always been acknowledged that the number could change, should others arise with the potential we require.” He pulled back his hood so that everyone could hear his next words clearly. “I believe today to be that day.”

  I couldn’t breathe. It was too much to hope. I'd never considered the possibility—

  “My dearest Ryiah.” Marius found me in the audience with a grin. “Will you please join me as the final apprentice of Combat?”

  I stood motionless. I was too afraid that, if I moved for even a second, the dream would end.

  “Ryiah.” Derrick elbowed me in the ribs. “Ryiah, you've got to get up there.”

  This is real.

  The audience fell silent as I walked forward, and the sea of people slowly parted to let me approach the steps. As I drew forward, I caught sight of Alex’s grin. Ella was beaming.

  I could also see the loathing in Priscilla's eyes.

  As I passed the prince, Darren gave the slightest nod, the barest semblance of a smile on his lips. His eyes danced as they met mine, and I realized suddenly that the answer to his earlier question was yes. Yes, the non-heir was a friend. It didn't matter that he was betrothed. My feelings didn't matter one bit. Because there’d been no shock in his eyes when I had climbed the stairs just now—Darren, Prince Darren, had put faith in a future that even I had never bothered to foresee.

  Trembling, I took the hand of the Black Mage and then continued across the line. Eventually, I finished shaking the masters' hands and made my way to my spot at the end of the row, right beside Ella.

  Master Barclae strode forward to address the audience, again. “Ladies and gentleman, I give you the fif�
�the sixteen apprentices of our Academy. Please give them the applause they deserve.”

  This time, when the clapping and shouting started, it never stopped.

  She survived a trial year at the Academy of Magic, but that was the easy part…

  Now sixteen-year-old Ryiah is an apprentice of Combat, her school’s most notorious faction. When she finishes, she will be a war mage, but in order to do so, she has to survive four years traveling across Jerar, training with a master she hates, her old nemesis, Priscilla, and Prince Darren, her sometimes-rival sometimes… more?

  Ry’s new apprenticeship is nothing like what she prepared for. War is on the horizon and her lessons aren’t just for practice anymore.

  It’s time to fight.

  YEAR ONE OF THE APPRENTICESHIP

  (Ryiah is now a second-year student of the Academy of Magic)

  1

  I watched the two figures dance, twisting and turning as they exchanged matching blows in the stifling morning heat of the desert sun. The sand shifted and clouded beneath their feet, small swells of dirt temporarily blinding my vision as the two continued to reposition their lightning-quick blows.

  I studied their forms. Lissome, dangerous. I couldn’t help but notice how the sweat glistened off their tanned skin, highlighting the contours of taut arms and shoulders. It was an observation I’d partaken in many times but had yet to grow tired of watching.

  The two fighters continued their match. The taller of the two, a young man with sandy brown curls and laughing green eyes, seemed the most at ease with the procession. He countered his partner’s rapid attacks with an almost lazy defense that spoke of a lifetime of training. The second young man was the opposite, trying to hide his building frustration in every blocked attempt. Garnet eyes flared underneath black bangs, and my heart skipped a beat. The shorter of the two might have been less skilled in hand-to-hand combat, yet my eyes clung to him just a second too long.