The Black Mage: Complete Series

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The Black Mage: Complete Series Page 41

by Rachel E. Carter


  He must have taken a different path. Or maybe he was lost. Or perhaps he had already made it back to the beach and was wondering where I was. I hadn’t seen any signs of lightning yet. Andy was still waiting for me.

  I had run the whole trail back, thinking I would find Darren somewhere waiting—possibly too injured to continue the way to the ship without my assistance. Now, I took my time, carefully examining each and every bit of ground in hopes of a trampled branch, bent grass, a footprint in the leftover winter frost, anything that would point to Darren or where he had gone.

  At one point, I thought I saw something—a bit of dried blood smeared against a rock, as if Darren had been using it to prop himself up—but no matter where I turned, the clearing was empty.

  He’s probably already on the ship, I told myself quickly. You must have missed him on your way in. I continued to prowl the forest back, shouting and casting in every which direction.

  It started to rain.

  After a couple minutes, my clothes were soaked through.

  “D-ar-ren,” I tried again. My teeth were chattering and it was hard to speak. I tried to swipe at the raindrops that were blurring my vision, but they were falling in sheets. I could barely see two feet in front of me. “Darr—”

  I broke off, crying out as a searing pain tore in and out of my left side. I barely had a second to register the pooling blood above my hips before a loud, swooshing noise came at my face and I was sent staggering to my knees.

  With all the magic I could muster, I cast out from all sides, hoping to hit my attacker before he landed another hit. I didn’t have any time to prepare. I threw forward the first projection I could think of: fire.

  But it was a mistake. The flames were quickly doused by rain. I cursed myself for wasting so much magic on the wrong casting. I hadn’t been thinking. A Caltothian soldier behind me kicked my back, and I fell flat into the mud, barely rolling out of the way in time to avoid a heavy boot from crushing my neck.

  “I found one!” the enemy shouted.

  I heard two sets of loud boots slapping against the wet ground. I tried casting again, but my magic was gone. I’d spent four hours expending my force in my desperation to locate the prince. The fire had cost me my last bit of magic. I was weaponless except for a small blade tucked into my boot, but I couldn’t reach it from my current position.

  The footsteps were right beside me, and I shoved my hands deep, deep into my open wound, screaming. I forced the pain to bend to my will, calling out the branch of magic that belonged to me and me alone.

  And then I pain cast everything I had.

  I WOKE up to a sea of silver falling from the sky. It was beautiful. One of the stars brushed my face, and then another, and I was surprised to feel a calm, cooling sensation as they caressed my skin, dancing across my brow, my nose, and finally the curve of my jaw.

  Finally. Peace.

  I blinked and realized with a start that the silvery stars were actually glittering flakes of snow, and that I was definitely not enjoying a peaceful death. Every inch of me throbbed like it had been slammed against a wall, repeatedly. My head spun and every time I tried to move, my vision seemed to fade away, leaving me with a black haze and small clusters of shadow I could only assume were some of the forest pines a little further away.

  My stomach felt like it was on fire, especially just above my waist where one of the soldiers had managed to stab me with his knife. Of course, I acknowledged, I made it much worse with my pain casting.

  The casting. The Caltothians. Had the soldiers presumed me dead? Had my magic worked? If it hadn’t, where were they now? How much time had passed? Biting back a cry of pain in case any were still nearby, I forced myself to sit up and see through the dizzying fog to my surroundings.

  Two men and one woman in Caltothian armor were splayed out below a large boulder to my right. I immediately felt sick. The granite behind them was stained red and their bodies were crumbled at odd angles. There was no movement in their chests, the breath stolen from their lungs. Blood covered the grass beneath them.

  Three. I had just made my first, second, and third kill—before I had even obtained my mage’s robes. I bent over and vomited into the grass. There was no pride, no justice, just the appalling sense that I had lost my innocence. That I was a monster.

  It didn’t matter that they would have killed me first. Seeing the three lifeless soldiers—still so young and strong and now stained forever against a rock, never to take another breath—left me with a nausea so fierce I could barely breathe without cowering against the ground in a pale, clammy sweat. I had known I would kill in Combat, but I had always pictured the glory. Now my opponents were here, and they were real, and all I saw was blood.

  And then I saw Darren. A strangled cry escaped my lips, and I dove forward to the fourth person I had missed at the edge of the rock’s base, hidden by one of the men whose armor had initially blocked my view.

  I knelt beside the prince, listening desperately for a heartbeat, but I could hear nothing over the hysterical screaming in my head.

  You killed him! You killed him, you killed him, you killed him!

  I felt frantically for a pulse, but it was the same. My hands were quivering too badly to tell. I saw the blood pooling underneath his hair, but I refused to acknowledge it.

  He’ll wake up, you’ll see. He’s only unconscious! I tried shaking his arms. I tried yelling. I tried pleading with the gods.

  But nothing happened.

  Slowly, tremors took control of my limbs and I began to tremble uncontrollably. He’s dead. I was crying and screaming. My sobs were so loud they drowned out the beating in my heart.

  Darren is dead. My ribs were cracking apart, crumbling into jagged shards. White ice plunged into my chest as invisible hands choked my lungs until I could no longer breathe.

  “You made the right decision, Ryiah. Let’s just leave it at that.” His words brought a flood of memories, and my tears turned into a flood. An avalanche of emotion and self-hatred came rushing out and reminded me that the fallen prince was more than a friend, more than the wrong decision I had pretended he was.

  The first time I saw Darren, in the mountain overpass, his cold garnet eyes met mine in haughty condescension. If someone had told me back then that he would be the one to break my heart, I would have laughed in their face. But now my heart was breaking, shattering, crumbling into pieces that would never heal.

  In the midst of my tears, I saw a stark flash of lightning high above the trees. Andy’s warning. They hadn’t left, but they would be leaving soon. Could I make it in time? Now, if I ran, would I make it?

  But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter one bit because I am not going anywhere. I could never go back to Andy, my faction, my family and friends knowing I was responsible for killing him.

  I was dirty, tainted, a lowborn of no significance. The prince deserved better than a sobbing murderer at his feet. I forced myself to wipe away the tears, not caring that I had just smeared blood and dirt across my face in the process. I stood with my back to the prince and scanned the clearing for any sort of flower that I might be able to set beside him: I couldn’t recreate a funeral pyre, but I could give his body one last thing of beauty before the Shadow God came for his soul.

  But then I remembered we were too far north, still in the months of winter. I couldn’t even give Darren something beautiful, something to take with him now that he was gone.

  My tears became hysterical and my legs gave out. I kneeled in the mud, sobbing. What have I done?

  Something brushed my shoulder, but I barely felt it; the rain was drowning out everything as I fell away…

  Ryiah.

  The rain had his voice. It hurt how real it sounded, catching the slight lilt to his tone—a hint of music edged in humor and bitterness, a mixture of darkness and light.

  I told myself I didn’t deserve to hear it.

  Ryiah.

  This time it was louder, and for a moment, for a
moment I believed.

  “Ryiah.” A rough hand gripped my shoulder and jerked me around. And then, suddenly, I was face to face with Darren.

  The prince was sitting across from me, cradling the back of his head, the strangest expression on his face.

  “I… I thought you were…”

  Darren winced, keeping a hand on my shoulder as he studied my face. “You don’t give me much credit,” he said hoarsely, “if you thought one of your castings would kill me.” He meant it as a joke, a play on the vanity he always wore around the rest of our faction, but it only made me cry harder.

  “How…?” I couldn’t finish.

  “I was on my way back when I heard you calling, but by the time I got there, the Caltothians had found you... I was about to jump in when you pain cast… If I hadn’t cast my shield—well, let’s just say your pain casting has gotten a bit stronger since the first-year trials.”

  I couldn’t look at him. I was too afraid if I did I would see I was alone, that this scene was all just a figment of my imagination, a way of coping with my loss. What he said made sense, but it was just too simple, too easy.

  “Ryiah, look at me.”

  I kept my eyes fixed to the hem of his sleeve, but then Darren lifted my chin so that I was forced to meet his eyes. Silent tears slipped down my face.

  My breath hitched.

  He’s here. He’s alive.

  It should have made the tears stop, but they only seemed to come down harder.

  “Why are you still crying, Ryiah?” His words were almost a whisper. “Why were you away from the boat?”

  I just shook my head, not trusting myself to speak.

  “You came back for me.” He was on his knees as he inched closer. My chin was in the palm of his hands. “Why?”

  “B-because…” It’s my duty. You’re the prince. No matter what, we are friends.

  I didn’t say any of that.

  “Be-because I’m in l-love w-with you.”

  His chest stilled and I heard myself add softly. “But I don’t want to be.”

  Darren sucked in a sharp breath. “I thought you told me…” That this was an infatuation? That it would pass?

  “I didn’t. I mean, I—”

  “Be with me.” His voice was hoarse. “I’ll call off the engagement as soon as we get to the palace.”

  There was a moment of elation but it broke just as fast. “You can’t—”

  “Gods blast it, I don’t care!” His eyes beseeched me to listen, to believe. “Ryiah, I love you.” There was anger and desperation burning in twin garnet stars. “I’m tired of following their rules. I deserve one good thing. One good thing for always doing what they want, being who they want me to be. I…” Darren’s grip on my hand tightened. “I want you, Ryiah. Just say the words, and I’ll do it. I’ll find a way to convince my father.”

  I could barely breathe. Every inch of me was singing and crying out. The words were fighting to rise and I was hard-pressed to stop them. I didn’t want to stop them.

  He doesn’t know what he is saying. Both of you are drunk on emotion. He isn’t being rational; you aren’t thinking clearly. Who’s to say the king will even let him call off the engagement? And most importantly: Could it be this easy?

  I realized I didn’t care.

  I’d chosen him all along. I was tired of fighting feelings for the one person I could never have. Maybe I could have him; we would make this work.

  “Darren—”

  The sky lit up, and I froze.

  Lightning. The ship!

  That was the second time in… ten minutes? How much longer would they be able to send out that warning before they left.

  “Get up!” I pulled Darren off the ground, and my whole body was shaking. I’d pushed myself to my limits, but I couldn’t rest now.

  “Ryiah, what are you—”

  “Andy cast lightning!” It was the signal our whole crew agreed upon during our plans.

  Darren didn’t need any more explanation. He broke into a run with my hand in his. I stumbled along, as best as I could.

  The wound in my stomach, the dizziness, none of the aches from earlier had subsided, but somehow the warmth of Darren’s fingers in mine gave me strength to continue. I couldn’t remember how close we were to shore. I didn’t let myself think about what would happen if the others were gone. I just kept running, running knowing that even if they were, I’d won.

  Darren was alive.

  If the gods had chosen to grant one wish, I was happy it was mine.

  13

  “The three of you almost destroyed an entire mission with your reckless conduct. Never have I been so disappointed by the amount of insubordination in all my years of service. Andy and Cethan, I have no choice but to recommend you for disrobement. Ryiah, you don’t even have your robes, but make no mistake, I will be suggesting the end of your apprenticeship as well.”

  Darren cleared his throat as Flint applied a new bandage to the wound on the back of his scalp. His hard lines were every inch the affronted prince. I recognized that look from our first-year at the Academy. “You would rather I die, Mira?”

  The leader scowled. “We are all very pleased to have recovered you, Your Highness. It was not my intention to leave you behind, but you were well aware of our orders.”

  “There were orders to recover our hostage by all means. As those two demonstrated, my sacrifice wasn’t necessary to those means.”

  “It could have been—”

  “Will my father see it that way? I’m here alive and we have what we came for.”

  “Your Highness, you can’t possibly—”

  “But I will. If you punish those three for seeing to my rescue, I will make sure you are disrobed and thrown in the Gilys prison for treason.”

  She exhaled with a gasp. “My loyalty is to the Crown!”

  “And it will stay that way, so long as you follow my orders.” His command was like ice.

  The leader spent one moment studying his face, weighing the words of his threat, and then stormed off to check our course, lest she counter a prince.

  Darren turned to us and his gaze softened. Andy and Cethan had done the impossible. Without them we’d never have made it out of Caltoth. When the first soldier had appeared and Andy shot out her lightning, instead of retreat, she’d fought while Cethan refused to cast the wind for the ship. With only non-magical Flint and two hostages, Mira had been forced to wait offshore.

  Our leader had been furious.

  There’d only been a handful of men, and by the time Darren and I had burst through the clearing, they’d just finished combat with the final one. According to Mira, they should have retreated to the ship the moment they caught sight of the enemy.

  “She won’t try that threat again.”

  “Thanks for that.” Andy gripped the prince’s forearm with a hobble. Her grin was bright against her sun-darkened skin as she left.

  Cethan just grunted in the prince’s direction and trailed after his friend to the front of the deck.

  Then it was just the two of us. We were alone for the first time since we’d boarded the ship the night before. Andy and Cethan had taken turns at our recovery when they weren’t seeing to Andy’s own extensive list.

  Darren stepped out to lean against the deck’s railing. I followed him. A moment of awkward silence followed as we both stared out at the ocean.

  Here was my chance to take back the words I’d never gotten to say in the forest. I want to fight for us. I could walk away and save my heart for the turmoil that came next.

  My feet wouldn’t move.

  “What we talked about in the forest—” Gods, how I wanted to tell him I couldn’t, but every part of me was screaming, fighting for a chance. We deserved this. We’d spent too many years fighting feelings that left us half mad and delirious. “I want to be with you, too.”

  There was a sudden intake of breath as his pupils widened and his hand gripped the rail. I could see the fast rise a
nd fall of his chest. Darren hadn’t been expecting me to say yes. “It’s not going to be easy, Ryiah.” His voice was hoarse.

  “I know.”

  “We have to keep us a secret until I have his approval. I… I don’t want to, but…” But it was obvious. If Priscilla caught wind of our decision, her father would reach out to the king. He had too much control with her dowry. “I need to address my father in person, a letter won’t be sufficient, not if we want this to work.”

  I’d fought my feelings this long, what were a couple more months? You can’t court a prince; they’ll never accept it. I shoved the despair to a deep cavity in my chest.

  After yesterday, we deserved to fight for us.

  “I… I want this to work.” Gods, I’d dreamed of something like this for years.

  Darren brushed a strand of hair from my eyes and sighed. “I just wish there was an easier way for both of us.”

  Hadn’t we been wishing that for years?

  He took my hands and gently tugged me to his side of the rail. Then his arms locked around my waist, pulling me to his front. “No matter what happens, Ryiah, I’m not going to give you up.”

  I nodded and he pressed his lips to my forehead.

  No matter how hard it gets.

  I wasn’t sure whether that last part was his promise or mine.

  “LANGLI MAY BE A BEAUTIFUL CITY”—ELLA’S horse dipped its head, attempting to steal a cluster of tall, high grass—“but I’m happy we are moving on.”

  I’d returned to Langli near two months back, and now we were back on the road for the capital. Another fifth-year ascension, only this time there was more riding on the line than a ceremony.

  I gnawed on my lip as my eyes slid over to Darren, riding a couple spots in front of the faction. He was in the middle of a debate with Eve and Ray and a couple of the fifth-years they were friends with. After a couple seconds, he looked back, sensing my stare, but he didn’t look away.

  My pulse stopped. I wanted to cross the distance between us and grasp anything besides empty air. We’d shared a couple of desperate, hungry kisses on that ship before we’d reached the shore. Now we were back to playing as if things hadn’t changed.

 

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