The Black Mage: Complete Series

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The Black Mage: Complete Series Page 33

by Rachel E. Carter


  “Alex?”

  The apprentice nodded and then turned to the far side of the room. “Alex, your sister is awake.”

  My brother finished treating his patient and rushed forward, a thick line of sweat staining his forehead as he attempted to wipe it away, only to smear blood and grime in its place. He looked worse than I felt. I wondered how long he’d been here treating the others.

  “Ryiah.” He sank to the floor with a thud. “Thank the gods you’re awake.”

  “How’s she?” I tilted my chin in the direction of Ella.

  “Sleeping off a draught.” His eyes were bright and watery. “They lost Caine, Ry. The two of you could have died.”

  I couldn’t respond. Caine was a fifth-year; he should’ve been a mage, not a sacrifice in the desert.

  “The masters said they’ve never lost an apprentice before.”

  And they wouldn’t have, if we hadn’t rushed in.

  “We saved the last mine.” Ella’s rasp was weak; she must have just woken up. “If we’d waited… could’ve cost Jerar.”

  “You bloody fool.” My brother turned to my best friend, his hands balled into fists. “Who cares about Jerar if you’re dead!”

  “Careful.” Her smile was weak. “You might show… all of your cards.”

  Alex didn’t appear to hear. He kept staring at Ella, and there was something about the way he looked at her that made me feel like I was suddenly intruding.

  “I… I meant every word in the stables,” he rasped.

  Definitely shouldn’t be here.

  “D-don’t...”

  “Don’t what?” He brushed her face, and I immediately averted my gaze. “Ella, that day you walked in… that girl kissed me. I didn’t…” His words came out a rush. “You have to know—you’re the only one I bloody think about!”

  “Alex—”

  “Please…” His plea was desperate. “I almost lost you. D-don’t make me lose you again.”

  And it was time for me to leave. I avoided looking at either of them as I stumbled out of the tent, ignoring the protests of healers in my wake. I was well enough to give Ella and Alex some privacy.

  As soon as I had left the tent, I found Eve standing outside. She looked upset as she stared out at the rest of the oasis.

  “Eve.” I walked over to the pale girl. “How is everyone?”

  “Caine’s dead. Ten knights and one of the Combat mages from Ishir are dead. Half the Mahj soldiers are dead. How are we supposed to be?” Her words were hoarse, and I realized she was close to crying.

  I didn’t even know the girl could cry. She was as infallible as the prince, or so I’d thought.

  “Have the bandits talked?” I shifted from one foot to the next, trying to ignore a bout of dizziness. Perhaps I shouldn’t have left the infirmary tent so quickly.

  “They killed themselves before the regiment could question them. Slit their necks with their own blades as soon as the nets fell.”

  “Did we find out who they were?”

  “They were ours.” Her hands trembled. “It’s why they kept their faces hidden. I even recognized two of them from the Crown’s Army… They weren’t bandits or raiders, Ryiah. They were rebels. My father’s men. Men I knew.” Her voice broke. “Why would they do this?”

  “Rebels?” Our own? “Not Caltothians?” I’d been sure it was our neighbor in the north; Caltoth had been raiding our border for years but refused to admit it. Every citizen in Jerar knew it was a bloody lie. King Horrace wanted our land.

  “Commander Ama thinks they wanted to stop our foreign exports. They’ve already sent word to my father and King Lucius.” Her lips were pressed in a thin, hard line. “If some of the mages are leading a revolt, then we can’t be sure this won’t happen again. Who knows how many others they recruited?”

  What if this is only the beginning? Knots twisted in my stomach and I felt sick. No wonder Eve was upset.

  There hadn’t been a war in close to a century, ever since Jerar signed the Great Compromise. It was the reason we’d held off declaring war on Caltoth for close to two decades of minor border transgressions. To break the treaty was to lose the support of the Borea Isles and Pythus, two neighboring allies.

  Not once had I considered a rebellion in our own kingdom. Unlike Caltoth with its extravagant coffers, the Borea Isles with its rising famine, and Pythus with its heavy law, we lived a relatively comfortable existence. The three war schools gave our people—regardless of gender or birth—the chance to rise. Even as merchants, my parents had never once complained about the demands of the Crown.

  “Do you think the mages were employed by King Horrace?” Perhaps that was it. Rebel mages paid by a Caltothian king.

  “Why else would they turn against the Crown? A mage lives a better life than most highborns.”

  Why else?

  THE FOLLOWING NIGHT, on the last evening before we departed Mahj, the locals put together a large funeral pyre for the fallen. Seventy-one bodies were placed on the wooden blocks. When Commander Ama lit the fire, it burned heavily into the night.

  Each one of us stood quietly in attendance, solemn in the face of our heavy loss. Many of the regiment leaders from Ishir, and Mahj spoke highly of their men, and even Master Byron gave an earnest speech for Caine. There was something tragic about losing someone so young—and Caine had been so close to his ascension, only five months from earning his black robes of Combat.

  Most of the fourth- and fifth-years retired early that evening; they’d taken their comrade’s loss the hardest. My heart went out to them. I hadn’t known Caine very well, except for that day during our mock battle, but it was clear he’d been a promising student and mentor to those who had known him. His attack in the cave had been part of a show; he’d never been cruel outside of battle.

  I glanced around to see how the prince was faring. I’d barely caught a glimpse of him around camp.

  Darren looked sickly with lines all too prominent in his face. Had he eaten at all in the past couple of days? His irises seemed black. No longer garnet, they were two pits of shadow, unfathomable against the red pyre of death.

  Eve held his hand, but he showed no knowledge of her presence. The prince watched the dancing orange flames, and I was convinced he saw nothing else.

  He looked so broken. So lost. There was an uncomfortable ache in the back of my throat, but what could I do? Priscilla was standing nearby, watching over him like a hawk. And who was I? A friend. He already had Eve holding his hand. Let him go, Ryiah. He’s not yours to save.

  So why were his words playing back in my head? “I want you to make me laugh, because gods know you are the only one who can.”

  After the pyre, the locals prepared a feast. Tradition dictated food and dance to honor the dead. A flask was passed around the circle of us left. A handful of miners returned, playing a set of pipes and drums.

  The villagers broke into dance, clapping and laughing as they spun around the sand to a familiar beat. Most of the apprentices watched, but a couple joined in. Alex wasted no time taking Ella’s hand.

  Loren pulled Lynn to the center of the crowd as well.

  For a moment, I stood and it was all I could do to watch. I’d never wanted to dance. I wasn’t particularly skilled with a sweeping pattern of my feet, and boys were just as clumsy as me. But just then? I wanted to dance.

  I wanted to forget the last couple of days and be swept up into the long desert night. I wanted to send a farewell to the fallen and embrace the living like the others. I wanted to forget.

  “Ryiah?”

  Ian was standing right in front of me, and I hadn’t even noticed.

  “Would you like to dance?”

  He was something real with an ending I could trust. He was the boy with laugh lines and an easy smile.

  He was everything I should want.

  Don’t look back.

  “I… I’d like that.” My voice cracked as my lips formed a timid smile.

  “I’m sorry abo
ut the solstice.” Ian took my hand in his as he led me toward the floor. “I wasn’t ready to give us... a try. But after everything at the mines...” He swallowed. “I’m not going to let fear hold me back... If you’ll have me?”

  It wasn’t just a dance, and as his hand found mine, there was a hot pit in my stomach. If I said yes, I was saying no to something else.

  Someone I’d never have.

  Do you want to try for a happy ending, or chase after tragedy? The question rang out in the back of my mind.

  I refused to look back at the prince as I adjusted the hem of my orange and gold-beaded skirts. This was a beautiful night full of stars that gleamed like glistening pearls.

  I deserved to try, didn’t I?

  The music started up. It was a charming little tune, full of stomping beats and heady drums.

  “I’ll have you, Ian of Ferren’s Keep.”

  The third-year grinned and tugged me to the edge of the crowd. His hands were hot on my waist, and his eyes were crinkled and soft.

  “Dance with me, beautiful girl,” he said.

  And then he spun me around and around, the speed and the firelight and the heat making us breathless and flushed.

  There must have been parts where I stumbled or lost track of the drums, but I hardly noticed. My cheeks burned with the fervent rush of our dance, and I found myself unable to look away, trapped in an endless feeling of right.

  Nothing had ever felt as sure as when Ian caught me and slipped, the two of us stumbling to the ground in a laughing haze. We were knee-deep in sand, giggling as we helped the other up.

  His hands locked on my arms before I could stand. Flecks of gold danced along his eyes.

  “Can I kiss you, Ryiah?”

  My eyes locked on his, and then I nodded, cheeks flushed.

  We were still in the sand when he took my face in his hands and kissed me.

  It was a wondrous kiss, a small thing, full of innocence and courage.

  Then Ian pulled back and took me by the hand.

  We danced long into the night.

  8

  No sooner had we arrived in Ishir when we were called back to the desert for another patrol. That seemed to be the way of things for the rest of the season and early into spring.

  None of our field training mirrored our time in Mahj. If I was honest, we spent most of our time pitching tents and serving as sentries along the soldiers and knights. It was uneventful, but pleasant. We had plenty of time to practice drills, in any case.

  As soon as late spring hit, it was time to leave. The final part of each apprenticeship consisted of an ascension ceremony in the capital for the fifth-years, and then a return to the Academy to collect our newest recruits.

  For Alex and me and the rest of the lowborns, this was the first time we’d see the capital and its infamous palace.

  “That’s the palace?” My jaw dropped.

  Ella snickered. “Really, Ry, you act like you’ve never heard anything about it.”

  “But it’s just so huge.”

  “I told you that.”

  “And tall.”

  “Again, I—”

  “And tall!”

  “Well, now you are just repeating yourself.”

  Ian sidled next to me. “Wait until you see the inside.”

  Far past the rolling hills and rocky crags below was a towering palace that seemed to climb straight past the clouds. The King’s Road snaked along the clustered hill, a large cobbled trail that snaked between thatched huts, tiny shops, and lumbering temples all the way to the top. Large hanging jacaranda spotted the road, blue and lilac blossoms sprouting along branches as lush grass covered the grounds as far as the eye could see.

  At the base of the palace walls was the town square, consisting of more cobble streets and wealthy merchant stalls sporting luxury goods and services.

  The palace was enclosed by towering stonewalls. They were at least ten yards high with only one manmade gate at the center of the street. Every so often an even taller pillar protruded from the wall, housing palace sentries with unlit torches and narrow slits lined strategically across.

  When the guards let us through, I discovered the palace was made up of the same gray stone and mortar as its fortification. It also housed large, stained glass windows like the Academy and gardens and walkways that went on for days.

  The roofs were black along the palace turrets. They cut rounding peaks into the sky. It was so beautiful I forgot to breathe. This was where Darren lived? Why had the prince ever bothered to train as a mage? I would’ve never left home.

  To my right lay a long trailing path to the stables, armory, and the massive training grounds for the palace guard, the King’s Regiment. The compound was huge. The city regiment had barracks just outside of the walls, and the Crown’s Army, I knew, was stationed just outside the city limits. Ten thousand men was much too big a number to fit within the palace walls.

  I also knew from our studies that the King’s Regiment’s housing was in the actual palace itself. As the elite guard to the royal family, the regiment had specific chambers closest to the king and his heirs. There were only fifty knights and mages in its division, but they were usually the most powerful in the land and recruited directly from promotions in the Crown’s Army and the Candidacy itself. While the Crown’s Army was deployed from time to time to assist with various efforts along the kingdom, the King’s Regiment only ever left the palace to accompany the king or one of his sons, like the band I had seen Darren passing with on my way to Sjeka almost two years ago.

  To the west lay a continuation of the palace gardens—a place for the courtiers to wander during their residency. I could see highborn ladies-in-waiting strolling the grounds in ornate dress, with coiffed hair and powders perfectly pressed and red, red lips. Young highborn men, off-duty knights, and the sons of high-ranking nobility were seen walking the grounds, placing bets and discussing mundane subjects with a practiced flourish that could only come from a lifetime of court.

  “Toss me off one of the balconies if I ever talk like that,” I muttered. We had just given our horses over to the hostler and were taking the rest of the path on foot.

  Alex, Ella, Ian, and I followed the rest of our factions in through the palace doors.

  By this time, I had given up any expectation. The second I entered the enormous castle, I wasn’t disappointed. Tile lined the floors in an elegant design, a mixture of red, gold, and amethyst marble. The walls were dark stone, dressed in gold and amethyst tapestries that depicted past battles and monarchy succession. Elaborate gold-plated pillars highlighted the corners of each room, illuminated by the sun through the stained glass above.

  Everywhere I looked, corridors branched into twisting passages, stairs, and chambers in a maze. There were so many twists and turns, I didn’t know how I would ever find my way out.

  “They’ve got three libraries, two ballrooms, the throne room, a grand dining room for the king’s family and special guests, two large halls for the nobility to take their own meals, two kitchens, four servants quarters, a privy at the end of each floor, and at least two hundred chambers besides the ones reserved for royalty and the King’s Regiment.” Ian couldn’t contain the disgust in his tone as he described the palace—down to the exact count of jewels encrusted in its ceilings.

  Alex and I made a face; like Ian, we’d been brought up lowborn.

  “Surely it’s not that terrifying.” Ella tried to make light of the situation; she’d spent half of her youth in court. “Jerar is the wealthiest nation.”

  “It’s second.” All of us jumped as the prince appeared behind us; I hadn’t even realized he’d been standing nearby.

  “Caltoth is the wealthiest,” Darren continued. “We have a bigger army and more land… but they have the ruby and emerald mines in the north. Our coffers don’t even come close.”

  “More wealth than this?” Alex snorted. “Their streets must be paved with gold.”

  The prince’s jaw
clenched, but he didn’t call Alex on his slight.

  The last time the two of them exchanged words, my brother had thrown a fist at his face; I wondered if the prince was practicing restraint out of courtesy for me. “We protect the people with our coin, Alex. King Horrace funds rebels and buys off mages to terrorize our kingdom. You can decide which is worse.”

  My brother ducked his head as I sucked in a sharp breath. So Darren believed the rebels were bought off by Caltothians like Eve. “Do you—”

  “Darren, your father wants to see us.” Priscilla’s voice rang out like the angry chime of a bell. “You don’t want to be late.”

  The prince’s eyes flit to mine for just a moment—the first time in months—but then he continued on down the hall without another word.

  A part of me deflated. That was as close to a conversation as we’d come since Mahj. Darren had been closed off from the rest of our faction since the rebels’ attack.

  Perhaps the change of setting will help. He could finally get over his guilt of Caine’s death. Perhaps he’d even talk to his father and convince him to do something about Caltoth once and for all.

  What would the king say? Would we go to war? Did they have any idea what Caltoth was up to next? What did this mean for the apprentices?

  I was brimming with questions, but it didn’t seem like I was going to get answers anytime soon.

  Maybe that’ll change by the end of the week. I hoped it would.

  I’d spent a lifetime thinking war was decades away. Now I wasn’t so sure.

  SEVEN DAYS CAME and went before I even knew they’d passed. In no time at all, the robe ceremony for the fifth-years ascensions finished and I was in a crowded ballroom filled with hundreds of simpering courtiers and regiment mages who’d come to celebrate the fourteen new apprentices to join their ranks.

  “I can’t wait until it’s us.” Ella leaned next to me against the large tapestried wall, gazing out in earnest at the four new Combat mages wearing their black robes proudly. Their faces were flushed with sweet wine, and rumors for where they’d take up station next spread like wildfire. Regiment commanders danced around the room, flitting from one mage to the next to try and recruit the best-ranked mages to their station.

 

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