I shoved at Darren, but he was ready and caught me by the wrists, holding them high above my head. He leaned in so that I was forced to stumble back.
“Do you remember our first year at the Academy? I said something to you once, in the library.” His breath was hot on my face and my cheeks flushed—from anger or something I was unwilling to admit, I wasn’t sure.
“I remember you saying a lot of mean things,” I spat.
“I told you not to trust a wolf.” His words dripped like honeyed venom. “Because it would only ever want to break you.” Darren let out a small, harsh laugh. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? I’m the wolf, Ryiah. I guess what I really should have told you was to never trust a prince, but that’s not quite as memorable.”
I broke free of his grip with an angry jerk of my wrists. Then, before he realized what I was planning, I slapped the prince across his face. Hard.
He said nothing, which only infuriated me more. Say something, you coward!
Tears spilled down my face. “I hate you,” I whispered.
Darren nodded once, and then turned and walked away. Leaving me there. Alone.
Again.
I hate you.
BY THE TIME we returned to Devon after the winter’s solstice, I was more than ready to face a cold season at camp. The frost in the Crown’s Army training grounds was a welcome distraction. With the bitter cold, I was able to forget my unpleasant mentorship and the breaking I felt around Darren. In a way, the frozen earth was exactly what I needed.
It froze my heart.
Almost as soon as we arrived, we were deployed to assist the Crown’s Army with King’s Road patrols up and down the central plains of Jerar. In truth, we were probably only stationed in the capital two or three weeks at most; the rest of our time was spent in active duty. Since they were regular patrols, we didn’t see much battle. The days were spent hunting down bandits or helping out local regiments with their training.
I didn’t get to see Derrick. We only traveled as far north as the base of the Iron Mountains and as far south as the Red Desert Gate.
Every morning we drilled and trained alongside the Crown’s Army mages, and it was during that time we really got to learn what service would be like in Jerar’s largest regiment. None of the men or women were quite as fun as Andy from Port Langli, but they were still a good source of entertainment. They gave opinions freely, the most valuable were which territories to serve and what commanders to stay away from.
“If you want action, it’s best to take a position north,” Hannah stated. She was one of the few female Combat mages traveling in the same unit as me. “It’s messy, what with all the rebel activity and border disagreements, but it’s the best place to be if you really want to make something of yourself. Most of the mages who enter the Candidacy have served in Ferren’s Keep or one of the border towns at one point or another. And if you have any mind to become a candidate, I suggest you do the same.”
“It’s also the territory with the highest death count,” Brennan, another Combat mage, supplied. “So keep that in mind. You might be brave and you might be strong, but it means nothing when you come across a lot of Caltothian mages and you are without backup. My best mate died in his second year of service because he thought he could take on five of them on his own during a routine raid. We lose a surprising number of Combat mages up north because of our faction’s heroic tendencies… It’s not to say you won’t find glory—they memorialize every one of our deaths and the Crown supports the deceased’s family heavily—but every bit of fame has its price.”
Ella stared at the man curiously. “So you’re not one for fame?”
Brennan snorted. “Of course I am. I spent my first ten years in Ferren’s Keep building up a fancy reputation.”
“Why did you leave then?”
“The north is no place to start a family. If you have half a mind to fall in love, don’t do it there.”
IN NO TIME AT ALL, we had finished our final patrol and it was time to return to the palace for the fifth-year’s ascension ceremony.
I swallowed as I unpacked my belongings. In one year’s time, it would be my turn.
Assuming I don’t ruin my chances by stabbing a prince or two.
I had only seen Darren and his brother once since we arrived. I preferred to keep it that way. The little time I had spent in their company already had been far from pleasant. Blayne had gone out of his way to insult me, and all the while Darren had looked at me like I was a cockroach in need of smashing.
Yes, I was going to stay far, far away from the prince and his entourage, as much as humanly possible.
Well, that’s what I told myself, in any case. And I really was doing well—until I ran into Priscilla on the third night. The girl made a face as soon as she spotted me.
“Why aren’t you at that musty old tavern with the rest of your lowborn friends?”
I stared at her. Even for her that was unusually curt. “I don’t need to explain my actions to you.” To be honest, I was pretty sure Alex and Ella had wanted some time alone without me tagging along, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.
“You stayed behind looking for him, didn’t you?” Priscilla laughed brazenly, and it was then that I realized the wine goblet in her hand.
“Are you drunk?”
“No.” She hiccupped. “Because if I were, I’d be sure to throw this in that harlot’s face.”
Not me? I wasn’t the harlot she hated?
I prodded, curious. I had nothing better to do, in any case. “Who is bothering the great Priscilla of Langli?”
“Don’t mock me, lowborn. It makes you look graceless.” She covered her mouth and belched. “Like her. Why don’t you take a nice long stroll to the library and see exactly why you should never chase after your precious prince.”
My pleasure instantly dissipated. There was only one reason Priscilla would send me to see him, and that meant it would hurt me. She was upset and drinking wine at the prospect of lost status. I would be broken.
I shook my head. “I have no care to see Darren’s newest conquest.”
“Well, Blayne will when I tell him how much time Darren has spent romancing that future wife of his. The two of them have been inseparable since we got back.” She sneered, “It’s like when we were kids, only now they spend late nights in his chambers… and no, I am not lying, Ryiah. His servants confirmed that to me just last evening.” She dropped the goblet and let it clatter to the ground.
The girl grabbed me by the shoulders and swayed. “They were talking about marriage. I heard them.” Her laugh was haughty and mad. “Though why a princess would choose a non-heir over a crown prince is beyond me.”
“I’m sure you heard wrong.” The words were thick on my tongue.
Priscilla pursed her lips and released me with a stagger. “I won’t lose my chance at the throne to you or a Borea Isle princess. The Crown needs my dowry and Shina’s. Blayne will put a stop to this. I know he doesn’t want to waste another year trying to secure another engagement. Blayne has to marry above his brother. The only two higher than Shina are the princesses in Caltoth and Pythus, and believe me when I say neither of those countries—or their ambassadors—like Jerar enough to support a marriage. I know what Darren is trying to do, and it won’t work. The king will never make him his heir.”
Is that what this is about? Is Darren trying to convince his father to make him crown prince? Suddenly it all made sense. It explained why he was pursuing Princess Shinako. He was trying to steal Blayne’s betrothed right out from under him. The prince was more ruthless than I’d ever given him credit for.
I’d heard of families feuding in the old scrolls, but there hadn’t been a fight over the throne in ages. Strife between the royal family was bad for politics, and it was even more foolhardy while Darren was pursing magehood and there were rebels and possibly a Caltothian war.
Would the Council of Magic force him to give up his robe? Council Law stated an heir coul
d not become mage. But maybe they would change that. They’d already bent the rules to let a member of the royal family participate.
Was everything Darren ever did a play for power?
My head was spinning from the possibility, and Priscilla’s words were ringing in my ears. Maybe I really didn’t know him. Love must really be blind. Four years of knowing Darren and it had taken me until now to see him for who he really was. A wolf, a power-hungry, ruthless wolf who had tricked everyone, including his own flesh and blood. And I’d had to hear it from the girl I spent four years believing to be my enemy.
The irony was that my real enemy had been there all along right in front of me. Smiling crookedly and convincing me we were friends. Trying to seduce me for the thrill of the chase. Chastising me for not trusting him that first year in the tower stairs at the Academy… Telling me he loved me in our apprenticeship.
And then tossing me aside the second I jeopardized his dreams. I wasn’t what he’d wanted all these years. I’d merely been a diversion in his pursuit of the crown.
I never should have trusted a prince.
DURING THE NIGHT of the ascension ceremony, a huge fight erupted in the great hall. I wasn’t there to see, but I heard about it when Loren and Ray joined us in the tavern for a nice dinner to celebrate our new status as fifth-years.
“You should have seen it!” Loren laughed. “Blayne may be fit, but he doesn’t have a chance when his brother uses his magic.”
“Yes, but Blayne gave Darren a good shiner at the beginning.”
“And then Blayne was out cold. The king couldn’t stop laughing! You would think he’d be angry, but he actually enjoyed his sons’ brawl…”
I concentrated on my stew and tried not to listen closely as Alex and Ella quizzed Loren and Ray on the action. I didn’t want to know. It just made Priscilla’s words that much more true.
I’d just braved another large sip of the steaming hot liquid when Ian swung open the tavern door. He looked handsome in his black mage’s robe—such a change from the training breeches and linen shirts apprentices wore. He pushed back some unruly curls and then spotted me at one of the far tables directly across from him.
I’d been so busy the past couple of months, training and not letting myself think about anything except the apprenticeship, so it was a sudden jolt to the lungs when he nodded in my direction and pointed to a small table in the corner.
Ella and the rest of my friends were too absorbed in conversation to notice. I didn’t bother to excuse myself before making my way over to the newly ascended mage.
I didn’t know what Ian wanted, but I thought it was safe to congratulate him on his new status.
“Thanks.” Ian scratched at his arm and seemed to have a hard time meeting my eyes. “Care to join me, Ryiah?”
I sat. And then waited, drumming my fingers against the table’s rough wood, waiting for him to say whatever it was he’d planned. I owed him that much.
Maybe he will finally tell me what he really thinks of me.
Ian drew a long breath. “I’m sorry I was so cold… I wish I could have said it sooner, but I needed time.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you.” I forced myself to speak. “You deserved much better than me, in any case.”
He swallowed and looked away. “For what it’s worth, I really thought the prince cared… I know what I said, but at the time, I was just trying to hurt you.”
“Well, it looks like we were both wrong.” I wonder, I thought, what it means that I chose someone as cold as Darren over someone as kind as you?
The Combat mage held up his ale. “A toast to better love in our futures.”
I joined him. “May the ones we love, love us much better.”
Silence.
Then: “Have you received any offers?”
He nodded. “A personal request from Commander Chen in Langli. Apparently my performance in the port’s mock battle impressed him.”
“Are you going to take the position?”
“I already have. He was at the feast earlier when I accepted.”
“You’ll have good company.” I smiled. “There’s a mage who goes by Andy in their regiment. She’s got the same humor and reckless disregard for authority you and I share. And you’ll like Cethan, too. I served with him during that mission. He’s a quiet brute, but he’s steady.”
Ian took another sip of his drink thoughtfully. “Where do you think you’ll end up?”
“Wherever they’ll have me.”
He gave me a strange look. “Ryiah, you and Darren are the top of your year. You’ll have commanders lining up to beg you. Don’t forget it was your pain casting that won two mock battles, and you’ve still got a year to add another victory to your belt.”
“I won’t get any good offers when Byron gives me my ranking. Even if I’m second only to Darren—which I’m not sure that I am—it doesn’t mean much if I am at the bottom of our rank during the ceremony. Byron despises you, but he still gave Lynn the worst rank because she’s a girl. Everyone knows the two of you should have placed first and second. Me? I’m a girl and Byron hates me—I’ll be dead last in a procession of six.”
Ian shrugged. “It won’t matter. It didn’t for me. Chen didn’t choose me because I placed fourth. He chose from what he saw when I trained in Langli.”
I sighed. “Well then, I definitely won’t be stationed near you. We lost the mock battle that year, and Ella and I were the ones to cause it.”
He gave me a crooked smile. “I guess not. But I’m certain tonight won’t be the last time we cross paths. The Candidacy is only two years away. Maybe we’ll finally get to have our duel? I know you’ve been dying to test your prowess in an arena. We are each one of the best in our years. Who knows which one of us would win?”
I lifted my mug. “To our future match.”
Ian winked. “To my beating you.”
YEAR FOUR OF THE APPRENTICESHIP
(Ryiah is now a fifth-year student of the Academy of Magic)
18
In the four years since I had walked through the Academy’s doors, I’d come a long way from the girl who had struggled to cast a tree limb on fire. Unfortunately, my first day in Ferren’s Keep didn’t attest to that… I was too busy counting down the hours until I could see my younger brother.
“Apprentice Ryiah, if you fancy my lessons pleasant enough to daydream in, then clearly I’ve been too soft on you. This is the third time today your head has been in the clouds. One week polishing the regiment’s armory starting tomorrow, and if I catch you at it again, I will not hesitate to triple your time!”
Of course he wouldn’t, the old crow.
Ella elbowed me lightly in the stomach, and I gave her a helpless shrug as soon as Master Byron’s back was turned.
“Pay attention!” she hissed. “You really don’t want to spend the next year scrubbing mail, do you?”
Another voice chimed in. “Yes, and I will never forgive you for jeopardizing my training, Ryiah!”
I glared at the sour-faced boy in front of me, another of Merrick’s bratty fourth-year friends. Not once had I been bestowed with a sweet-faced mentee to train.
Byron had undoubtedly chosen this one on purpose.
I made a face. “Your training was already jeopardized long before you met me, Radley.”
The rest of the day’s lessons finished with much difficulty on my end. My overconfident mentee had a flagrant disregard for all of Byron’s cautionary measures, and I spent a good amount of time nursing injuries when he went too far in his castings. Especially during the final drill.
Radley still seemed to think the only thing that mattered in pain casting was power, which meant he didn’t bother to practice any semblance of control.
I had to remind myself that revenge was less important than performance. I needed to spend my final year carefully crafting my own pain castings. I’d improved greatly over the last four, but so had Darren and Eve, and I so desperately wanted to excel in someth
ing.
I was tired of being third in everything, and I would’ve been lying if I didn’t admit it would be nice to watch the look on the prince’s face when he lost. Someone needed to knock Darren off that pedestal—he’d been enjoying its light for far too long. It was time for someone else to shine, and I wanted it to be me.
I could have sent my ungrateful mentee flying into the tall pines behind us, but I chose to focus my energies on a carefully exerted force. Stop and start, change direction, send my crackling lightning flying to the side only just in time—all from a small blade’s pressure on my forearm.
I glanced to watch Darren with Merrick. He and Ray were sharing the same mentee this year. Another stark clash of light flashed and the familiar smell of burning wood wafted from where his bolt landed just inches from mine. Was that deliberate? I stared at the prince and saw a small upturn at the corner of his mouth. He was trying hard not to smirk, but I knew, I just knew, that he had done that last casting on purpose.
I straightened and prepared for a cut that would show that smug prince exactly who he was going up against… and then stopped myself. What am I doing? I didn’t let Radley’s castings get to me, so I certainly wasn’t going to let Darren’s.
Me. This year is about me. I took a deep breath and focused on imitating my last casting, flexing my magic as I pulled back a second sooner. Perfect. Now just ten more minutes and we’d be dismissed.
And then I could finally seek out the one person I’d been looking forward to.
“IS this what my no-good brother has become? A soldier who falls asleep at pubs?”
Derrick’s head shot up with a start, and I laughed as the drink he’d been resting beside spilled all over his table. “Ry!” He was out of his stool in a second.
Laughing, I embraced my younger brother, who had grown even taller in my absence. And bigger. He now carried twice as much muscle, and my head only went up to his chin. When he released me, I could barely contain my gaping jaw.
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