I wanted to leave him with something to smile about. I knew how hard the Academy could be.
“In Ishir we trained with the local regiment.” I rubbed my gloves together for warmth; it really was cold tonight. “Every morning we spent two hours drilling with the soldiers and knights, not just mages. The things those men and women were able to do, it would make anyone proud to come from the Cavalry… I know it’s not what you want to hear, but you don’t need to be a mage to be happy, Derrick.”
“What about you?” he sighed. “Do you want to give it all up and join me?”
There was a long, drawn-out pause and then a twinkle in Derrick’s eye as he finished. “You know, your favorite brother?”
I grinned in relief. “Don’t tell Alex.”
“He already knows.” He was starting to smile—that was good! “He’s too much of a pansy to fight me for the title.”
My stomach rumbled in a long, overdue laugh. Gods, I’d been tense for weeks; it felt good to let it all go.
My brother fidgeted with something in his hand. The odd glint caught my eye and I started.
“Is that…?”
Derrick’s cheeks were red. “Yeah.”
He removed the ring so I could see it in the moonlight, a simple copper band. It was tarnished with age, with a thick band and an “R” embedded on the surface.
I’d given Derrick that ring years ago. It was actually my ring, and Alex had one just like it. They’d been presents on our seventh birthday.
Four years old at the time, Derrick hadn’t understood why he didn’t get one too. He’d thought that being twins meant I loved Alex more. It’d upset him enough to throw fits for days… until I’d finally given him the trinket, telling him that the two rings now belonged to “both of my favorite brothers.”
I hadn’t thought much of the ring since, and I wasn’t sure Alex still even had his, but after all this time, Derrick had held onto mine.
It warmed my chest.
“Come here.” I pulled my brother into an awkward hug, ruffling his hair.
Derrick let me hold him for a second, and then shoved me away with mock disgust. “Don’t go all mom on me.”
“I’m so proud of you.” I really was. “Whatever you choose at the end of the year, Derrick.”
He just waved me away with an exaggerated groan.
“RYIAH, I need help with my coat.” Alex’s voice carried as he swung open my chamber door without warning.
“Alex!” Ella shrieked his name. “Get out!” She grabbed the nearest book off my nightstand and lobbed it at his head.
“Ella?” My brother flushed a very deep shade of red as he realized he had walked in on us getting ready for the solstice ball. We were in underdress, but it was still inappropriate. “I’m—” The book hit his face with a loud slap, and he ducked out of the room.
“He is lucky I didn’t cast fire!” she muttered darkly.
“I bet he would have thought it was worth it.”
She jabbed me lightly in the arm. “You are not helping at all!”
“He just seems so sad.” I sighed. “I’m sorry, I know it doesn’t matter much.”
She gave me a look. “You are one to talk. Has Ian said a full sentence to you since the mock battle?”
I cringed. “No. He avoids me at all costs.”
“I’ll make you a deal.” She looked deviously. “I’ll talk to your brother if you give Ian a real apology instead of moping around like a beaten lamb?”
I bit my cheek. “You’ve been waiting to say that one, haven’t you?”
She grinned. “Perhaps.” The girl pointed to the back of my bodice, which was in a shameless state of disarray. “You haven’t been practicing like I told you.”
I stared ahead at the wall, guilty. Practicing courtly manners and learning how to dress like a highborn had been last on my list of things to do.
I liked the dresses; I just didn’t like the work.
“One day I won’t be able to help you,” she teased. “And then what will you do?”
“Wear my mage’s robes?”
“Ha.”
I TOLD myself over and over that I would find Ian at the start of the night, but time trickled by and the room was crowded and loud. I couldn’t do it. And then when I was finally ready to approach, I spotted him joking with Lynn and Loren across the way, and I lost my courage.
Coward.
I spent the rest of the night in a packed corner with Derrick and his first-year friends.
Before I knew it, Constable Barrius and his staff were shooing the first-years to bed.
The man scowled as he spotted me amongst the boys. “You.” I was the girl the staff would never forget, and how could they? I destroyed an entire building.
“You want to know who got stuck cleaning up that mess after your trials, girl?”
I ducked and ran.
I COULDN’T FIND Ella anywhere. She wasn’t in her chambers and she wasn’t in any of the training rooms. The palace bell had just tolled eleven, and after ten minutes, I decided to go find my brother instead. Alex was missing as well.
Well, you did tell her to talk to him.
I considered searching for Lynn and Loren in the ball, but the night was already late, and they were probably still with Ian. I couldn’t work up the courage to apologize now.
Fine. I needed a good night’s sleep before we set out for the desert anyway.
I shut my door and collapsed on my four-poster bed—dress and all—and then proceeded to stare at the ceiling.
I wanted to sleep, but I was too restless. All I could do was toss and turn. An hour passed and I still couldn’t sleep.
With a huff, I searched my nightstand for one of the small vials I kept packed in my bag. A sleeping draught. It wasn’t the ideal solution—usually Alchemy’s potions left me queasy—but I didn’t want to spend the next day falling off my horse on the long trek to Ishir because I hadn’t gotten enough rest.
I swallowed the bitter liquid in one long gulp and then lay back down on my bed as I waited for it to take effect.
Everything became quiet, heavy, rhythmic. My eyelids fluttered shut, and I was only vaguely aware that I was still wearing my dress…
The loud clatter of a fallen sconce jerked me awake.
I sat up, suddenly dizzy. Someone in the hallway was cursing. Inconsiderate fools. I groaned and shifted on the blankets, but before I could get comfortable, there was a second clatter as the person who dropped the sconce tried to replace it, only to drop it again.
That’s it.
I staggered out of my room with purpose. The chamber door hit the wall with a thud as I flung it open and tottered into the hallway, blind. I had to squint to see in the darkness, and I couldn’t see much.
“Get some decency,” I croaked. “Some of us are trying to—” Big yawn. “—sleep in peace.”
“Ryiah, is that you?”
I grumbled. “What of it?” The contents of my stomach churned, and it was anything but pleasant.
Oh no. I clutched my ribs. I should have known better than to take a sleeping draught on an empty stomach.
I sunk to the floor with a thump. My head spun. Everything spun. I did not feel well.
“Are you sick?” The shadow drew closer, and I finally recognized the voice. Looks like I’ll make good on that promise to Ella after all.
“I should have fought you outright.” My words were garbled and weak. He stood just a few yards away. “I’m sorry, Ian, I really am.”
The third-year sighed, and the next thing I knew, he was slumped next to me on the cold marble floor. There was a moment of silence—just the quiet intake of breath as we leaned against the wall, shoulder to shoulder in shadows.
His swallow was loud. “You already apologized… I just needed some distance.”
“But I—”
“You did what needed to be done. We’re Combat. It makes sense.”
Is he agreeing with Darren? I twisted my neck. “Then why
were you upset?” Why did you avoid me for weeks?
“Because I was jealous, Ry.” His rasp was so quiet it took me a moment to realize what he’d said.
Then… I was stunned. He’d flirted… I’d hoped… but I hadn’t really believed.
“I always knew you liked the prince—”
But I didn’t! “I don’t!”
“—I just assumed one day you’d get tired of waiting for someone you could never have.” The boy sighed. “I like you, Ryiah. I always have.”
“I like you too!” My face was on fire, and I couldn’t believe I’d admitted those words aloud.
“You say that, but I see how you look at him.”
“Well then you are a fool for not seeing how I look at you!” There the words came tumbling out of my mouth.
Ian was silent. The third-year shifted, and I could sense he was wistful, but not quite convinced.
“Alex. Alex, be quiet!” Ella’s loud giggling voice carried from the stairwell, and my head jerked in the direction of her voice.
Ian stood.
“Wait, Ian…”
He just shook his head. “Get some sleep, Ryiah.” Then the third-year disappeared into the dark hall, intent on his room.
Alex and Ella stumbled into the light of a nearby sconce, the two of them laughing with their faces flush and red. Neither of them noticed Ian as he passed.
I started to call out, but then my brother grabbed Ella’s hand.
My mouth dropped as she turned and whispered his name.
That was all the encouragement he needed. He spun her into his arms and then proceeded to kiss her like he had all the time in the world.
“WHAT WAS THAT?”
“A mistake.”
My smirk was all-knowing. “That kiss lasted at least ten minutes.”
Ella blushed. “Ryiah, I really wish we had known you were in that hall.”
“So you could kiss him longer?” I yawned loudly. My head throbbed and it hurt to blink; the draught had been a terrible idea. This was not how I wanted to start our trip back to the desert.
And it was so cold. Ella fared worse—she hated the snow—but that didn’t mean I was any bit happier. The first-years had their nice cozy Academy.
At least in our morning drills we’d been able to stay warm; now there was nothing to keep my blood flowing for a ten-hour ride in the saddle.
Byron wouldn’t even let us cast to keep warm. When we were serving in a regiment someday, we’d be asked to conserve our magic for battle. Wasting casting on “mundane comforts” could be the difference between victory and defeat.
“Why were you in that corridor anyway? Seemed like an odd place for a nap.”
Ella’s question brought me back to focus, but I blanched at responding so close to the others. We were riding out in a two-columned formation, and the icy winds made it easier for people to listen than talk. I didn’t want the whole faction hearing about my run-in with Ian, or how he’d insinuated I had feelings for the prince. That would be the worst humiliation of all.
Ella gave me look. “I cast a sound barrier. Why else do you think I was willing to discuss Alex?”
I glanced around, but I couldn’t see any hint of magic. “Where? How?”
“You can’t see it because it’s intended to deflect noise, not sight.” She grinned. “Watch this.” The girl leaned back in her saddle and screamed—outside of the range of our barrier, of course.
Nothing. There wasn’t a sound. But there should’ve been, especially when Priscilla turned around from her saddle and opened her mouth to make a crude remark to Ella for interrupting her quiet, I couldn’t hear it, of course.
I made a mental note to ask Ella how to cast that barrier in the future.
When Ella leaned back, I finally told her everything.
She didn’t look surprised.
“You can’t blame him. He’s afraid of getting hurt.”
“I would never hurt him!”
Ella shook her head, smiling sadly. “Ryiah, you can lie to yourself, but not to me. You like the prince.”
That was two people—three if I counted Priscilla—now. Did everyone think I was moping after Darren like some lovesick idiot?
You can’t lie to yourself.
Was she right? Ella knew me. She was neither a jealous betrothed or a jealous boy.
I swallowed, and a lump stuck to the bottom of my throat. I couldn’t like Darren. I hadn’t talked to him in weeks.
You left the ball after you saw him dancing with Priscilla.
And there was still that kiss. And that moment in the Academy towers. And that night he took my hand.
Blast it, I didn’t even want to like him.
“It’s Ian that I want.”
“Wanting someone isn’t enough.” Her eyes were somber. “Prove that he comes first.”
“What if I can’t?” What if the prince was always in my head?
“Then you shouldn’t rush a decision.”
“What are you going to do with Alex? I thought you didn’t want to give him another chance?”
“Your brother.” She sighed. “I like him. A lot. More than I should… He can kiss...” Her cheeks were red. “But that was a one-time mistake. For it to be anything else, he’s going to have to convince me first.”
6
“When we reach the barracks, I expect each one of you to brush down your steed and put your tacks away before settling into your meal.” Master Byron’s voice cut the frigid desert air like a knife.
I rubbed my numb hands together, teeth chattering. So much for a warm desert; the plains we passed through had been better than this. Who would expect the hot sands of Ishir to be so cold in January? Our warm breath was the only source of heat for miles.
We’d just passed through the Red Desert Gate. The giant gate was the only manmade barrier separating Red Desert from the rest of Jerar. Sadly, we still had ten miles before we’d reach the city’s outpost.
Thundering hooves drew the attention of our group. I peered into the darkness, searching for the source of the commotion, half wondering if we were being attacked, when I recognized the garb of Ishir Regiment riders galloping toward us.
“Master Byron, Master Joan, Master Perry!” the first man practically fell out of his saddle as he pulled to a sudden halt in front of us.
“What is it, soldier?”
“The Red Dune bandits have taken over the Mahj salt mines.” The man paused to take in the rest of our party but Master Byron waved an impatient hand for him to continue. “The local infantry couldn’t hold them off, sir.” His words came out in raspy spurts, “We suspect they’re using m-magic.”
“Where is Commander Ama?”
“She already left, and s-she requested your party follow them south!”
And there goes any sleep.
I DUG my shovel into the trench, again and again. Sand and rocks scattered around my boots. It was hard, dirty work.
It didn’t surprise me that, while everyone else was setting up camp, I was the apprentice servicing the tasks no one wanted. Master Byron’s dislike had no end to its perks. I longed to be with the other Combat apprentices taking care of the horses, cleaning the regiment’s weapons, counting the inventory, prepping the cots… but instead I was stuck here, digging trenches for two regiments.
Alex had been put to work with the rest of Restoration—there were already casualties from the battle of the Mahj salt mines—and he was busy learning and using his magic to make a difference. Alchemy was busy prepping potions to assist with the fight. Both factions were behind the lines, so to speak, so their masters had let them actively participate in the local efforts.
Master Byron, on the other hand, was keeping Combat as far from battle as possible. “They have enough warriors,” he’d chastised our group the night we arrived. “What the regiment needs is help around camp.”
This was not field experience.
Combat apprentices were to see to the upkeep of the fort while the
real mages went off to fight. Byron wasn’t going to lose apprentices who were “too big for their britches.”
The locals couldn’t even help because half of them were still barricaded in the mines by the bandits. Some of the soldiers were still trying to get them free. The few farmers who remained at the Mahj oasis were busy preparing meals for the entire camp.
I groaned. Regiment mages were getting all of the glory while the Combat apprentices were stuck playing house. This was not the life of a warrior I imagined. I knew it was wrong to be jealous—especially when Mahj’s local command started to return with injuries—but it was impossible not to sulk after months of preparing for battle.
“You would get a lot further if you stomped your blade along the surface before digging.”
And I recognized that voice.
Darren was leaning against a nearby palm, water skin in hand. He’d been one of the lucky ones to patrol the oasis instead of performing menial tasks.
Somehow, I doubted his route included the trenches at the base of camp.
Still…
This was the first time he’d spoken to me in over a month. And he was looking at me right now with a peculiar expression. I wasn’t sure what to make of his presence.
The last time we’d exchanged words, I’d told him he was heartless and he’d told me I wasn’t cut out for Combat.
Who would break first? Did it even matter?
I knew he was waiting for me to respond.
I sighed. “Darren—”
“I’m sorry.”
What? I blinked twice. I must have heard him wrong.
The prince took a step forward. His hands were shoved in his pockets, his eyes never leaving my face.
“I’m sorry, Ryiah,” he repeated. “You were right.”
And there it was. A prince of Jerar, the most arrogant boy I knew, had not only apologized, he’d admitted defeat.
The terrible truth? He was wrong.
The one time Darren was wrong, he was wrong about being wrong. The irony wasn’t lost on me.
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