The Black Mage: Complete Series

by Rachel E. Carter

  I wondered who would go where. Two girls were ranked last, even though they’d been the first contenders after Caine. That didn’t surprise me since the person deciding our rank was Master Byron. The man had led fourteen years straight of female apprentices ranking last.

  I tried not to think what that would mean for me—a female and his least favorite apprentice.

  But I still had three full years to go.

  I took a long swig of something fruity and chilled. “Do you suppose Commander Audric recruits for the Crown’s Army?”

  Ella pursed her lips. “He hasn’t in years. Same with the King’s Regiment. You usually transfer in.”

  We continued our silent survey of the crowd. It didn’t pass my notice that Ella had chosen the back of the room since the king and his heir were somewhere conversing with the nobility in the front. She didn’t even want to dance with my brother for fear of drawing Blayne’s notice.

  I told myself it was better this way. I didn’t need another night of watching the prince dance with his betrothed. I’d rather support my friend.

  Ella started, sloshing her drink. “Is that—”

  It was.

  The Black Mage was standing in the center of the crowd, wearing his signature robe. Silk black layers cascaded down his broad shoulders, framed by intricate gold designs along the sleeves. There were even small crimson and gold gems spotting the hood. It was a robe every Combat apprentice dreamed of, a robe passed down in nursery rhymes and dreams.

  Marius looked uncomfortable in such lavish dress—probably because mages only wore their robes during public ceremonies or court.

  Two golden earrings dangled from his left ear, bright under the flickering castle lights.

  I longed to approach him. The man had gone against tradition and vouched for me to become the sixth apprentice of my year. That alone would have been enough to make me worship the man, but he was also the best Combat mage in the realm. The man had won the Candidacy fifteen years ago, and before that, he had served as one of the leading mages in the Crown’s Army.

  “He won’t bite, you know.”

  Ian’s chuckle made me blush. “He’s still my idol, Ian. I can’t just—”

  But apparently I could. Ian was dragging me across the room before I’d even finished my protest.

  “Hey, Marius,” Ian called, “I think you have an admirer.”

  I turned the shade of the tapestry behind us as the Black Mage swung around, white teeth flashing. “Is that Master Byron’s least favorite apprentice I hear calling my name?” Marius’s tone implied a longstanding joke.

  “Not anymore.” Ian nudged me forward with a grin. “Ryiah has taken over the privilege.”

  Recognition flashed across the Black Mage’s features and his dimples grew. “Ah, Ryiah, well it is only fitting. That cranky old frog would hate the first-year I personally nominated.” He held out his hand, and I shook it with sweaty palms.

  “I’m so g-grateful you vouched for my apprenticeship.” My breath was fast and shallow; the words jumbled together like waves. Were my hands shaking too? I felt like a bumbling fool in front of my hero. “I hope I d-don’t disappoint you.”

  The man arched a brow. “The prince was just telling me earlier that you and he led the mentees to victory for the first time in a mock battle in over a decade.” Darren said what? “Two second-years… why, I might be in the presence of my successor now. What do you think, Ryiah? Are you going to be taking part in the next Candidacy?”

  Was I dreaming? This had to be a dream. Because in what life would the most powerful mage of the realm be suggesting I was a contender for the robe. Not the traditional plain black robe of my faction, but the special robe. The Colored Robe. The robe that made a mage the Black Mage.

  “Well, now you’ve done it.” Ian winked at Marius. “She won’t be able to talk all night.”

  The Black Mage was being called away by a group of boisterous advisors. He sighed wearily. “Politics again… I apologize to you both, but I must return to my Council.” His eyes crinkled as they fell on me. “I hope this isn’t the last time we talk, Ryiah. I look forward to hearing your accomplishments as the years progress. Perhaps my robe will seem a little less daunting then.” Then the man gave a final nod to the both of us and disappeared into the crowd.

  “I’ve never seen you speechless.”

  I made a face and shoved Ian gently. “You’ve never put me in front of him.”

  Ian caught my arm and his hand lingered on it just a moment too long. “Another man might be jealous.”

  “I’m jealous.” I snorted. “He’s a walking prodigy. Who doesn’t want to be him?”

  “I want to be the man that meets up with you in the palace library.” There was a teasing light to his eyes, but for a second, all I could think about was someone else. Why did he have to say library? “What do you say, Ryiah?”

  It’d been weeks since we had so much as ten minutes alone together. Code of Conduct forbid the apprentices from friendly relations, and we’d barely caught a moment since that crowded dance floor in Mahj when the masters were half-drunk on ale.

  “W-what if someone sees us?”

  “No one will be in that drafty old place, not with the feast going on all night out here.”

  “I-I’ll f-follow,” I stammered. “There’s just s-something I have to do first.”

  “Don’t take too long.”

  The words brought another rush of heat, and I blushed. I’d been thinking about his kiss for months. “I won’t.”

  As soon as Ian disappeared, I inspected the room, searching for the one person I’d yet to locate. I spotted him through the great doors that led through to the grand balcony. While many of the palace chambers hosted small patios of their own, only the main ballroom had views as stunning as the one below. It faced the north, showcasing mountains and hills rolling for miles in lush verdant green.

  Beside him was her. Wearing a splendid dress of lavender and yellow lace, she looked like she belonged here: the future princess of Jerar. Priscilla’s raven curls were done up in the latest fashion, small tendrils escaping an elaborate twist, held high by rose gold clips.

  I watched the two of them for a moment—the dark prince and his betrothed. Neither looked happy, and from the way Priscilla’s lips and hands kept moving, I suspected they were arguing. The girl thrust her drink onto the rail and stormed off. Darren watched her go with a weary expression.

  I hesitated. This probably wasn’t the best time to approach him. But after hearing what he’d told the Black Mage, I felt a responsibility to seek him out.

  Praying that the prince wasn’t in a foul mood, I proceeded with caution. “Darren?”

  The young man spun around, shoulders rigid.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you...”

  Instead of looking to me, the prince searched the crowd behind us. After a moment, the tension left his shoulders and his eyes met mine, seemingly relieved.

  “The Black Mage said you gave me half the credit for that mock battle in Ishir.” I swallowed. “You didn’t have to, it was mostly you.”

  “I don’t give credit unless it’s due.” Darren’s lips held the faintest trace of a smile. “You already know this.”

  My cheeks burned, and I forced myself to continue. “It means a lot—to have him think so highly of me. He’s the best mage there is.”

  “Ryiah.” Darren’s eyes seemed to gleam in the setting sun. “You don’t need to thank me. You won that acclaim on your own.”

  “But Master Byron—”

  “The master is an idiot. He couldn’t see a prodigy if he tried.”

  My sigh was sad. “He sees you.”

  “Perhaps not a complete idiot.” His lip twitched. “But you can be a great man and still be a fool. Many of our country’s leaders could attest to that, were they still living.”

  “That’s your great grandparents you are alluding to.” I couldn’t keep the grin from my face.

&nb
sp; Darren sighed. “People make mistakes all the time—some of us just are in more of a position to leave an impact when we do.”

  Speaking of power… “What does your father want to do about the rebels in Mahj?” I’d been wondering all week.

  The prince gripped the railing tightly, and I could see the white knuckles beneath.

  “I’m sorry,” I backtracked. “I shouldn’t have—”

  “They want me to leave the apprenticeship.” His words were quiet, angry. “They said it is too much of a risk for me to continue. Because of the rebels.”

  “You can’t leave!”

  “I refused.” He hesitated and then looked to me, suddenly unsure. “You don’t think I’m making a mistake? That maybe I should? Because of Caine?”

  “Caine died protecting someone worth saving!” The outburst came unbidden. Was it the wine? “Of course you should stay! People want to see their prince fighting with them!” Definitely the wine. Sweat beaded my brow, and I felt a bit unsteady. I had this strange urge to shake the prince by the shoulders for even thinking of walking away from a destiny any of us would fight to keep. He was the best apprentice of our year, and I didn’t want to see him turn this all away.

  I didn’t want him to leave.

  “I put us at risk, Ryiah.”

  “Those rebels would have fought us whether you were there or not.” I swallowed. “You’re one of the best apprentices we have. We need you to fight with us, not hide out in some palace like a sheltered prince!”

  Blast it, what was wrong with my mouth? Why was I insulting the Crown in the middle of a crowded palace?

  But Darren didn’t look angry. He looked relieved, pleased even, like I had affirmed what he already believed. “Especially if we go to war.”

  I wasn’t sure I had heard him correctly. “Did you just—”

  “Nothing is certain.” The prince’s eyes darted behind my head, and then he lowered his voice. “The Crown is moving in on negotiations with Emperor Liang of the Borea Isles. Once we have his support, we can move forward with Caltoth.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath. “Are you even supposed to be telling me this?”

  “No.”

  For some reason, I blushed. “Then why are you?”

  There was a moment of silence as the prince considered my question, his head tilted to the side. He was studying me, I realized.

  All at once, I was back to that day in the desert. His words came flooding back. If things were different…

  Gods, what had he been about to say? What did he want to say now when he was looking at me like that? When he was telling me Crown secrets in the middle of a ball?

  Why wasn’t I in the library with Ian?

  “What happened to that dress you were wearing that night in Mahj? The one with the beading?”

  “T-that?” Blood rushed my face, and I could scarcely breathe. “It’s h-hardly appropriate for the palace.”

  “That’s a shame.” Darren’s garnet eyes refused to leave my face, and I thought I would burst into flame. “I never got to tell you then, but you looked really lovely that night, Ryiah.”

  Ian. Ian. Where was Ian? What was wrong with me?

  “I know I shouldn’t say this.” The prince made a frustrated noise, and he took a step closer. “But I—”

  “Darren! There you are. Have you any idea how mad Father is? He just spoke to Priscilla—she said that you are staying!”

  Darren bristled and took a step back, eyes flashing. “I’m the best mage in the apprenticeship, Blayne. They need me.”

  “Still trying to be a gods’ blasted hero.” Ice blue eyes narrowed on me. “You, lowborn, don’t you have somewhere else better to be?”

  “I was just—”

  Darren took a step around me, one arm resting on my arm. “Don’t talk to her like that. She’s not lowborn, and even if she was—”

  “She’s special, is she?”

  “Ryiah,” Darren growled, “leave us.”

  “No.” The crown prince smirked. “Stay.”

  The two princes were faced off, locked in a silent battle of wits.

  I mumbled a hasty excuse and left without a second look back.

  I was halfway to the library when I doubled back, realizing I’d taken the wrong passage to meet Ian.

  When I turned the corner, I found myself face to face with the heir to the throne. Prince Blayne was dressed stiffly in a blood-red shift and gray trousers. He still wore his dark hair shorter than his brothers, cropped close to his head, with a gold chain bearing the signature black hematite of the Crown gem around his neck. Darren had a similar one, but I hardly saw him wear it.

  “Ryiah, is it?” Blayne said my name slowly, distastefully.

  Funny, he’d called me lowborn before. That had clearly been an act to belittle me in front of his brother.

  “Stay away from me.” I hadn’t forgotten what the crown prince had tried to do to Ella. He might be the heir to the throne, but I carried no respect for someone who tried to assault my friend.

  Blayne saw the fear and determination in my eyes, and he laughed. “Oh, so your little friend told you about us, did she? She never did know when to shut her mouth.” White teeth flashed like a predator. “Not that I didn’t try.”

  I recoiled, and I was at once grateful Ella was nowhere in sight.

  “What do you want?” I was determined to part ways as quickly as possible.

  “Ryiah, Ryiah, that is no way to treat a prince.”

  I said nothing.

  “Well, I’ll make this short. Stay away from my little brother. He doesn’t need power-hungry lowborns making eyes at him in the middle of a ball.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “He won’t leave her,” he snarled. “Priscilla of Langli is worth a quarter of this country’s treasury in gold. You’re nothing but a lowborn wench.”

  “If I’m just a lowborn, then why are you so threatened?” I knew it was wrong to bait him, but I was growing more enraged by the second.

  “My brother has a weakness for strays. I’m here to ensure nothing comes of this twisted little fantasy.” He scowled. “He has a duty to the Crown.”

  “Darren is my friend. Our friendship isn’t going to start a war.”

  “Don’t talk back to me, you insipid little girl!”

  His hand came down before I’d even realized he’d raised it. There was a loud claaap, and then my cheek was on fire, my face jerked rudely to the side as the crown prince withdrew his arm.

  Every part of me burned red. “Hit me again,” I gasped, “and I’ll—”

  He slapped me again, only this time I was ready.

  My casting hit him full force the second his palm brushed my skin. I sent the crown prince of Jerar colliding against the wall.

  “You dare to attack your future king!” Blayne screeched. “Guards, seize her!”

  Four of the king’s personal regiment rushed the corner and grabbed me, muffling my cries as they held me in place. Two of them were wearing black mages’ robes.

  “Let’s see how brave you are now,” Blayne snarled.

  I attempted to cast myself free, and one of the mages slammed me against the cold marble floor. I bit the man’s hand and screamed as loudly as I could. Blood was dripping down my nose.

  There was a shuffle of footsteps from down the hall, and then the mage who I’d bitten went flying.

  “Let her go!”

  Ian?

  “Get the lowborn.” Blayne’s voice command rang out like a toll.

  There was the clamor of boots and a couple heavy gasps as fists connected with flesh, and someone dropped beside me. I twisted in my captors’ grip to find Ian. There was a large welt on his forehead. Three additional knights and the mage from before were holding him down.

  “I want these two taken to the cellar for—”

  “Blayne, I thought you said Father…” Darren’s voice trailed off as he entered the hall. There was a moment of silence as the prince took in the
scene before him.

  Ian and I were held down and restrained by seven of the King’s Regiment while his brother stood idly by, brushing blood off his knuckles.

  “Ryiah?” Darren faltered. His eyes were livid as he turned on Blayne. “What is the meaning of this? Let them go at once!”

  “Stay out of this, brother. That red-headed one tried to attack me, and the boy was no bette—”

  “I don’t care what she did!” Darren yelled. “Let her go! Let both of them go now!”

  “This is none of your concern.”

  “Let them go now or I swear by the gods—”

  Blayne made a face, and with the wave of his hand, the guards were called off. “I was doing you a favor, Darren. They are only lowborn trash.”

  “You think the Council will see it that way if you imprison two of their future mages over a disagreement? They are Combat.”

  “The Council does not control me.”

  The two continued their heated argument as Ian and I attempted to stand. The marble below me was slick with blood—from Ian or me, it was anyone’s guess. Probably both.

  I started to slide, but Ian caught me before I fell.

  “Thanks.” I swallowed as his thumb brushed my split lip, and I spotted the bruise that was already forming around his right eye. I did this. The guilt was enough to send a wave of nausea to my gut.

  What was wrong with me? Why didn’t I just agree to Blayne’s demand? Why was I so determined to fight for something I didn’t even understand?

  Ian brushed back a strand of my hair that was stuck to some blood on my face. His green eyes were filled with concern as he gently lifted my chin, checking for injury.

  “Did he hurt you?” he whispered.

  I shook my head, shamefaced. I didn’t want Ian to know the real reason the crown prince had gone after me, what he’d insinuated…

  “Well, would you look at that.” Blayne’s cold laugh cut through the air like a whip. “Looks like I was wrong after all.”

  “I am done with your mind games, brother.”

  “Look at them.”

  Darren’s eyes shot to Ian and me. He stilled as he took in Ian’s arms around my waist. There was a tightness around his mouth that hadn’t been there just seconds before. “We are done, Blayne.”