The Black Mage: Complete Series

by Rachel E. Carter

  There was a loud whoosh as the prince and Eve released their magic. I hardly noticed it—I was too busy tackling Darren to the ground. A heavy mist of sand rose up around us as I wrestled the knife out of the prince’s grasp.

  “Ryiah!” Darren spat through a mouthful of dirt. “Let me go!”

  “You are not going to be a hero today, Darren!”

  “That is not your decision to make!” He struggled to break free of my hold. When he found the effort harder than he expected, he glared at me. “Let me go or I’ll cast you off.”

  “You can try, but I’ll still—”

  At once, an ear-splitting screech rang out across the forest floor and I went flying back into the shallow stream behind us. A second later, Darren landed to my right. There was a loud slap as his body hit the water. We barely had time to catch our breath before the trees began to tremble and groan.

  The two of us scrambled to stand just as the first pine fell. One by one they all broke free of their giant roots. Great towers of flame were crashing down all around us.

  “What’s happening?” I squinted, trying to see through the thick cloud of smoke. I could hear screaming. “Is it the regiment?” Had help arrived?

  “I don’t—I can’t see any…” Darren started to sway. I was close enough to steady him just before his knees buckled and collapsed.

  “Darren?”

  “Eve.” His entire body was a series of tremors. “She…” He pointed and his chest heaved up and down, too fast to count. “She had the same idea as…” He couldn’t finish, choking on his words.

  My heart stopped. I’d been so focused on stopping Darren that I hadn’t bothered to consider what Eve might do.

  Somewhere in the burning forest to our right was a pale girl with ash blonde hair and violet eyes that had just closed for the last time.

  Darren was having trouble breathing. I could feel his ragged breaths, in and out, his shoulders shaking. I hated him, or I wanted to, but my grip still tightened on his arm.

  Eve had never intended to run. Neither had the prince. I had been the only one foolish enough to think we would—Darren and Eve had been too busy plotting how to let me and the other one survive. Because there was only one way any of us could evoke enough magic to take on five mages in our weakened state.

  Pain casting. By death.

  Eve had given her life to save us.

  And that’s when I saw it—a dark silhouette making its way along the flickering river of flame. I strained to see through the smoke. Was it Eve? Had Darren been wrong, was she alive?

  The limping figure was much too tall.

  “Darren.” I shook the prince’s shoulders and said in a loud whisper, “Darren!”

  He didn’t hear me.

  “Darren, we’ve got to get out of here!”

  I could see more clearly now. It was a man, one of the mages from before. He was making his way among the trees, one palm in front of his face as he parted the flames in his path.

  I drew a sharp intake of breath. The mage still had magic.

  Angry eyes met mine as he spotted me from across the clearing.

  I was done waiting. I shoved Darren back behind me and pulled out the blade I had stolen earlier. I wasn’t going to let Eve’s sacrifice be in vain. I lifted it to my wrist.

  Darren’s hand clamped down on my fist while the other sent my knife skittering into the stream behind us. He’d recovered fast. “Don’t you even think of it!” he snarled.

  “Darren, you’re a prince of Jerar!” The man was almost out of the fire. “I can’t let Eve’s death be for nothing.”

  His eyes were hard. “I couldn’t stop Caine or Eve, but by the gods, if I must die, I want to die knowing it is not because everyone is proffering themselves up as sacrificial lambs every time I’m in danger!” He released my wrist and handed me my cut bonds from earlier. “You are not going to die today, Ryiah. Now take these.”

  He took a shuddering breath as he forced himself back into command and away from the grief somewhere buried in his eyes. “That mage must have used up quite a bit of magic to hold off Eve’s casting. I still have some of mine, and you have this rope… If you want to fight, then fight, but don’t you dare sacrifice yourself for someone like me.”

  My lips parted in surprise. Don’t you dare sacrifice yourself for someone like me? That didn’t sound like Darren the Wolf at all. It sounded like the boy I’d fallen in love with.

  Now is not the time to question things. I studied the landscape, knotting and unknotting the leather cord in my hands. The mage had finished crossing the flames and was now running toward us. He still had quite a distance to come, but he would reach us soon enough. A mage employs every resource he has. We don’t spend years training in both types of combat just so you can shirk your duties the second you’ve used up your magic. I bit my lip. You’re still a warrior, Ryiah, so think like one.

  I pointed to a thicket a quarter mile away half covered in ash. “There’s a steep ravine just east of that brush. When I was looking for a place to start the fire, I almost missed it.”

  Darren drew a sharp intake of breath. “So the mage wouldn’t be able to flee east. We could cut him off if we can lead him to it.”

  The two of us both took off at a sprint. It only took me a second to realize my mistake. There was no way I could breach the distance in time. The searing pain in my thigh was a quick reminder why. I hobbled after Darren, my pace no faster than a brisk walk. I was skipping, half dragging my leg behind me as the mage drew closer. The man still hadn’t cast—it was a good sign that he was conserving his magic—but he would be upon me in less than a minute.

  Darren looked back to see where I was and stopped running.

  The prince raced toward me just as the mage raised his hands.

  I ducked and a series of sparks shot out across the distance between us. The mage’s magic collided against a barrier not two feet in front of me. There was a loud crack and then Darren’s casting shattered, shards of glass splintering the air around me before subsequently vanishing with Darren’s magic.

  “Get behind me,” the prince gasped. The mage was already calling upon his next casting.

  I shook my head and took a stand stubbornly beside him.

  There was less than five yards spanning the distance between us and the Caltothian. We could not outrun him if we tried. And judging from Darren’s last casting, we wouldn’t be able to out-magic him either.

  “If we are going to die today,” I told Darren, “let’s make it the best fight of our lives.”

  Before he could stop me, I threw myself forward with the leather strap high above my head. I paid no attention to the agony in my leg. I cut the distance in half, springing into the air with the balls of my feet. The thick rope shot straight up and then I let my elbow bend and snap.

  There was the satisfying crack as the leather met the mage’s shoulder, and then I fell to the ground, doubled over in a pain so terrible I couldn’t think. I heard Darren roar and shut my eyes against a huge flare of light. Two men’s screams were followed by a loud thud.

  I opened my eyes. My surroundings flickered and spun, over and over. My stomach ate at me from the inside. Something was piercing my abdomen. Black and red swarmed my vision, and I could barely make out the dark heap in the grass next to me.

  Then I heard the short, sputtering coughs as the person struggled to breath. There was a hoarse gasp and then a terrible moan.

  Darren.

  I reached across the distance and tried to find the prince’s hand. My fingers caught his, and I held on tight. I knew it was wrong, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t speak. My pain was building and building, and all I could do was shut my eyes and pray to the Shadow God that death came swiftly for us both.

  “Ryiah,” Darren gasped, “I’m sorry I made a mess of everything.” He tried to laugh and then choked, sputtering for air.

  Something broke in me.

  Pain was deafening my senses, but an unrequited an
ger rose when I heard Darren utter what he thought would be his last words. An apology. For everything. In his dying breath, the prince wanted to tell me he was sorry.

  And that’s when I realized Priscilla was wrong. I was wrong.

  Whatever he’d put me through, Darren was good.

  The prince could have waited for the keep’s regiment, but as soon as he’d freed the others, he had come back for me.

  Like Eve, he’d never had an intention of fleeing when he told me to run.

  Those were two times Darren had chosen to save me instead of himself.

  A prince of Jerar had decided a lowborn’s life was more important than his own.

  I heard the crunching of pine needles and the mage’s labored breathing as he drew close.

  I let my hand fall limply to the side.

  “Ryiah?” Darren’s voice rose.

  I didn’t respond. I let my eyelids flutter shut.

  “Ryiah!”

  I held my breath.

  “She’s a pretty thing,” the Caltothian declared. “I can see why you wanted to keep her alive.”

  “Don’t you look at her!”

  “You can’t stop me, boy. You are dying yourself.” The mage laughed raucously.

  There was a sudden clatter, and then Darren gave an ear-shattering scream. It took everything in me not to move.

  “You shouldn’t have tried to pain cast,” the man addressed the prince, “not against me.”

  I exhaled and began to inch my hand slowly, closer and closer to my abdomen. As soon as my fingers closed around the dagger embedded in my stomach, I took a deep breath and waited. One. Two.

  The soft crunch of grass alerted me just as the man stepped on the ground near me. I kept my hand frozen in place. There was the rustle of movement, and then I cracked open one lid, just in time to catch sight of the man hovering over the prince.

  The mage held out his hand and a shimmering orb of fire appeared in his palm. “I would have made your death quick, like the girl’s,” he told him, “but since you tried to trick me, I’m going to let you burn. Slowly. I want you to feel every second of it.”

  I didn’t waste another moment. I wrenched the blade free and lunged, slashing at the back of the mage’s leg with all the strength I had. I caught the steel along the curve of his thigh and dragged down, deep, deep into his calf and fell back with a cry.

  Then the pain took over.

  My whole world reared up around me as blackness took hold of my sight.

  I lost consciousness to the man’s screams.

  20

  I couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t feel.

  All I could do was listen.

  The pounding of my heart, and the murmur of something faint. His voice.

  One whispered word. Over and over.

  Ryiah.

  21

  “I’m alive?” Though I’d spoken the words aloud, they still seemed at odds with my memory. Wasn’t I supposed to be dead? Dead with Darren and Eve in the northern forest of Jerar? Surrounded by burning pines as I bled to death from a fatal wound to my stomach?

  Which brought me to my next question. “How?”

  Derrick snorted. “That would be the first thing you ask us, wouldn’t it?”

  Alex, meanwhile, was glowering down at me with Ella clutching his arm. “You must have a death wish,” he bellowed. “This is the fifth—no, the sixth—time I’ve had to visit my sister in an infirmary because she thinks she can take on the world by herself!”

  “Alex, that’s not fair,” Ella interrupted. “Most of those were because of mock battles. You can’t blame your sister for—”

  “I don’t care what they were for!”

  “Alex!” Derrick looked annoyed. “Don’t yell! The healers!”

  “I will yell if I want to. I’m going to be a healer too!” my twin shouted. “The lot of you are fools for choosing Combat. Fools! And you, Derrick, choosing to be a soldier—did you not hear that four of your own were murdered? Slaughtered like pigs for a butcher! What kind of idiot signs up for—”

  “All right, Alex, that’s quite enough.” Ella tugged on my brother’s arm with an apologetic look to me. “Later,” she mouthed as she escorted him firmly out of the room.

  “So,” I said weakly to my last remaining visitor, “he’s mad at me again.”

  Derrick guffawed. “Alex is always mad. Just because the rest of us live exciting lives is no reason for that grouch to bring you down.” He paused. “Besides you and Prince Darren—”

  Darren! I’d forgotten all about him! “Is he—”

  “Of course he is.” Derrick grinned. “You two are the talk of the keep right now. All the squads heard about how the two of you risked your lives to save the regiment! I wouldn’t be surprised if they made a song about it the next time they find themselves at a tavern!”

  I cringed. The last thing I wanted was to hear my “deeds” memorialized in drunken song, especially when the only thing I had done was almost die… “Eve,” I asked suddenly, “did she—”

  “She’s dead, Ryiah.” Derrick’s voice lost its humor. “It was quick, if that helps. Stabbed herself in the chest. I overheard Master Byron telling someone it was a ‘mage’s last stand,’ whatever that means.”

  I swallowed. When someone willingly brought on his own death to exert an extreme pain casting, it was known as the mage’s last stand, but I’d only read about it in scrolls. “Eve was a hero,” I said softly. “Without her magic, Darren and I would’ve died.”

  “Probably why the prince is in Devon.”

  “Darren left the apprenticeship?” I sat up with a start and then regretted it immediately. My whole body roared in protest. “Why would he…?” Why wouldn’t he after what happened?

  “He didn’t leave it.”

  “But you said—”

  “He’s visiting that girl’s father. Eve. He said it was something that couldn’t be put in a letter.” Derrick looked sideways at me. “The prince is nice, actually. I don’t understand why Alex hates him so much.”

  “He was here?”

  “He was here for the first four days. Granted, two of them he was recovering in the cot next to yours, but he came back even after that. And that girl you hate? Priscilla. She caused a huge scene when she saw him in here.”

  “How…?” I cleared my throat and tried again. “How am I…?”

  “Alive?” Derrick was amused. “Ryiah, you were never dead. No matter what our charming brother might claim, Restoration is not that good. The prince gave a full account to Commander Nyx. The two of you were fighting that last Caltothian when you pulled that dagger out of your stomach—madness, really—and caught the man off guard by slashing at his leg.” He frowned. “You lost consciousness right after, but the prince was able to finish the job. He wasn’t faring much better, but he still managed to carry you a couple miles before the regiment arrived. They brought you two to the keep while the rest of the mages put out that fire you started. In case you are wondering, Ry, a quarter of the northern forest is now gone. It’s going to take years to grow back.”

  The whole time my brother was talking, I couldn’t help but remember the one thing that’d been bothering me since I awoke: the dreams I’d had. The ones where I kept hearing Darren’s voice. He’d been saying my name. Over and over. Had that been real?

  What does it matter? Nothing has changed.

  “Ryiah? Are you still listening?” Derrick looked concerned. “You probably need rest,” he surmised. “I should leave... All of the apprentices were delayed by the fire, but now that you are better, I expect the masters will want to set out tomorrow for the Academy.”

  “APPRENTICE RYIAH?”

  My eyes flew open, and I found the commander of Ferren’s Keep standing over me, her steel gray irises studying my face. My pulse jumped and I sat up with a start. This time with much less pain than before. “C-Commander Nyx?”

  “I am sorry to wake you, Apprentice, but I have a matter that ca
nnot wait.”

  I waited for her to continue.

  The woman pulled a chair to the side of my cot and leaned forward. “I have already spoken with the prince, but I need to know if you saw anything strange—anything at all that might merit questions—the day of the mock battle?”

  The confusion must have shown on my face because she tried again.

  “Anything odd, Ryiah. Anything that struck you as contrary with the Caltothians?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking.”

  The woman sighed and stood up, pressing the chair legs back with a loud squeak. “If you think of anything, no matter how silly or minute the detail might seem, please send for me.”

  I nodded and promised to do just that. The woman left the room with a wish for my speedy recovery, and then I was left once again with an overwhelming fatigue. I drifted off quite quickly, but as I did, one question pressed at my thoughts: what was that about?

  THE SECOND WEEK after we’d arrived at the Academy, Darren finally returned from his visit to Devon. I was at odds with his presence. I couldn’t hate him like before, not after what had happened. I didn’t know what to think.

  I spent the next couple of days lost in my own dance of drills and meals with my friends. At one point, I turned around to ask Eve her opinion, and then caught myself. I had a sickening moment where that day in the forest came rushing back, and I decided to retire early that night.

  It was as I was turning the corridor to my room on the Academy’s second floor that I finally came across the prince. He was not alone.

  “Now is not the time to discuss our wedding!” I entered the hall just in time to see Darren slam a chamber door in Priscilla’s face.

  The girl let out a loud shriek and picked up a nearby vase and threw it against the wall. It shattered into a mass of tiny shards, wilted flowers, and water flooding the floor. Then she turned around and caught me staring.

  “He wasn’t just visiting her father,” she sniffed. “He was with her. My friends in the palace tell me everything.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Once again my chest was being ripped at the seams. I felt torn between three states: pity for myself who loved such a capricious person, pity for Priscilla who spent her whole life fighting girls like Shinako and me to keep the prince and her position in court, and then frustration at Darren for saving my life and being so heartless and power-hungry in the same breath. Why couldn’t a person just be good or evil? Why couldn’t Darren pick a side? I was tired of trying to guess which one he was on, and it was beyond aggravating when my heart was involved.