The Black Mage: Complete Series

by Rachel E. Carter

  “The day I am crowned princess will be the best day of my life,” Priscilla continued. “Believe me when I say you are lucky to be lowborn, Ryiah. A highborn’s struggles are more tiresome than you could ever know.”

  There. That was the reason I didn’t pity her. Not truly. “One, my status as apprentice means I am no longer ‘lowborn,’” I snapped. “And two, my struggles are just as relevant as yours.”

  The girl rolled her eyes.

  “I find great pleasure in knowing that it is one of your own who is stealing him away,” I told her flatly.

  “And here I was trying to be polite!”

  “You are wasting your breath. Any pity I feel vanishes every time you open your mouth.”

  The girl stopped smirking. “You have grown vain in light of your magic, Ryiah. Were we friends, I might use my influence to have Byron give you a higher rank at our ascension. A shame, you could be the best apprentice of our year, but you’ll still be ranked last.”

  “I’d rather be last than align myself with you.”

  The girl glared at me. “You are making a mistake.”

  “Her only mistake is talking to you. Why don’t you find some other hallway to haunt with your presence?”

  I grinned as Ella sidled next to me on the stairs. Priscilla stomped off to find better company, and I turned to Ella. “Thanks.”

  “She’s afraid of you. Priscilla knows you have power and it scares her. Last thing she wants to do is make enemies with the future Black Mage.”

  I snorted. “I find that highly unlikely.”

  Ella looked thoughtful. “Maybe. And maybe not.”

  THE ACADEMY TURNED to a winter wonderland with the first-years’ lights decorating the castle just in time for solstice.

  I enjoyed a good feast and then left my brother to dance with my friend.

  It was strange to be surrounded by so many eager-faced first-years and know that I’d been one of them, enthusiastically sharing in drinks and laughs, just four years before. I still had five more months at Ferren’s Keep, but the ascension took place in Devon, not Sjeka. Tonight would be my final night within the Academy walls.

  “Feeling nostalgic?” Darren appeared beside me in the snow. I started. I hadn’t even noticed him exit the doors.

  The two of us were standing under a pillar of icicles and trees glowing violet under the first-years’ lights.

  “I spent so much time dreaming about becoming a mage.” My words were barely a whisper. “I don’t think I’ll know what to do with myself when it becomes real.”

  “I doubt that.” The prince’s expression was wry. “I think the second you are ranked, the commanders will vie to give you a spot in their regiment.”

  That was the second time someone had told me that. I still didn’t believe it. “I hardly think that will be the case.”

  “I do.”

  An awkward silence followed, and then Darren cleared his throat. “I never got a chance to ask,” he said quietly, “how you were faring. After the battle.”

  “Are you asking me now?”

  “I am.”

  “I’m fine.” I couldn’t think of what else to say. Anything else felt like a betrayal to myself.

  “I’m glad.”

  I made the mistake of meeting his eyes and saw… I’m not sure what I saw. My emotions were running so wild I couldn’t trust myself. Every inch of me was screaming at his proximity and my skin was fighting to make contact.

  He’d only been nice for a moment. That was all it took to bring back that rush I needed to forget.

  “Thank you…” I swallowed. “For coming back for me that day. I’m sorry about Eve… I know she meant a lot to you.”

  “She...” I could hear the break in his voice as he said it. “She didn’t deserve to die. Not for me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I.” Now he sounded angry and his eyes flared crimson. “Her death will not go unpunished.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “When I returned to Devon, I met with my father. The Council and his advisors have been averse to take action, but this time it’s different. The Caltothians have grown bold—sending that many men to attack our northern post. Our men and women depend on that forest for lumber, and now a quarter of it is burned to the ground. The daughter of the Crown’s Army commander is dead. Several of the regiment? Dead. You and I were almost killed.” He clenched his fist. “I admit the nobles could look the other way while half of Jerar is destroyed—they are that opposed to war—but they can do little to ignore Father after he found out his own son was almost murdered.”

  I bit my lip. “So we are going to war?” The Great Compromise had been in place for almost a century. It seemed impossible.

  Darren looked away. “As soon as my brother and I secure our marriage dowries to finance his army.”

  Oh. How could I have forgotten? It must have been because he was standing so close to me, eyes burning like fire, robbing me of the last year and a half. Darren was still Darren. Just because he was kind did not mean he loved me, or that he wasn’t a prince. It didn’t matter how he looked at me. Nothing had changed.

  THAT SAME NIGHT, I arrived at my chambers and shut the door softly behind me. It was only after I heard the lock click into place that I let myself breathe. I felt myself slip to the floor, fingers tracing the wooden panels above as my heart pounded traitorously hard in my chest.

  Why do I do this to myself? Why does he have to be kind? Why can’t he be cruel? It wasn’t fair. Darren had broken my heart. And he continued to shatter it every time he looked at me.

  We couldn’t be friends. We couldn’t be enemies.

  So what were we?

  IT WAS the worst winter I could remember. We could see every breath we took. Ella and I were beyond miserable.

  Then we were deployed in one of the keep’s regular patrols.

  “What do you mean, we have to camp in the snow?” my friend whispered, outraged. She was smart enough not to complain in Master Byron’s presence, of course.

  “For this next week, I want you to go completely without using your magic,” the training master had said. “Absolutely no casting. Unless we come across a raid, I want you to learn how to survive a harsh winter climate without using your powers. The soldiers and knights do it all of the time. This will help prepare you for a position in the northern regiment. Your magic will be needed for battle, not comfort, and as such, I expect the next week to reflect this. Afterward, we will resume our regular lessons.”

  “Madness,” I told her, grinning, “absolute madness.”

  She elbowed me. “Don’t mock me, Ry. By the second night you, too, will be wishing for summer.”

  “Not as much as my dear brother, I expect.”

  Ella blushed. “Yes,” she admitted ruefully, “I suppose I’m not the only one.”

  “He wants to marry you, you know.”

  “I know.” Her face was in flames. “I’d be a fool to say anything but yes. I love the both of you more than what is healthy, I’m sure.”

  At least someone would get a happy ending.

  “COMMANDER NYX!”

  The woman paused. “Yes, Apprentice?”

  “You asked me to find you if I remembered anything strange?”

  The commander’s haggard gaze transformed to one of keen interest. “Yes, Ryiah, I am so sorry. Please forgive me, my mind was elsewhere.”

  I shifted from one foot to the next. “I’m sure it is nothing of importance,” I stammered, “but I remembered something…” I was sure I looked foolish. I felt like a fool, that was for certain. I’d been plagued with nightmares of that battle for months.

  And then I’d remembered.

  “One of the mages called herself a traitor. A man was arguing with his leader whether or not to take me as a hostage, and she asked him if he really wanted to defy their orders. She said ‘two times a traitor would only bring a slow and painful death.’ I didn’t think it then, but now
it struck me as an odd thing to say… What did she mean? Why would a Caltothian be ‘two times a traitor’?”

  The commander smiled. She never smiled. It made every inch of my skin crawl. “Have you ever considered a position up north?” the woman wanted to know. “Ferren’s Keep, perhaps?”

  My ill ease was immediately forgotten. Is she offering me a position before my ascension ceremony? “I’ve thought about it.”

  “Well, if you decide that answer is yes, you would be guaranteed a place in my regiment.”

  I couldn’t breathe. “Really? But you don’t even know my rank yet, and Byron…”

  “I judge a person by their merits, not hearsay,” the woman interrupted. “And you, my dear, have impressed me far more than any of your factionmates. You passed an initial test half your year failed, and then you saved my regiment. If I were to go by hearsay, then I must tell you the northerners are singing you nothing but praise. Either way, you will always have a place in my keep.” She reached out to grasp my arm firmly. “We need more fighters like you, Ryiah.”

  “And Darren,” I said weakly. “He helped save your regiment too.”

  The commander’s gaze seemed far away. “Yes,” she said, “I suppose he did.” Then her focus cleared. “Nonetheless, I am sure he will be stationed close to the palace. He might be a mage, but he’s still a prince. I believe the king has been generous in allowing him to spend so much time abroad.”

  I nodded, feeling silly I’d forgotten. Of course he wouldn’t accept. The prince would serve a much higher rank close to home in the Crown’s Army.

  I didn’t understand why I had felt it necessary to remind her of his prowess. The whole country knew. Was I so desperate to spend the rest of my life fighting alongside the prince? I should’ve been happy to finally free myself after spending so much time together. Why in the name of the gods was I trying to keep him here?

  “IF I WANTED to be saddle sore,” Alex griped, “I would’ve joined Combat, not Restoration.”

  “Calm down, big brother,” Derrick teased. “You’ll have plenty of time to grow fat and old after your ascension.”

  I snickered as Alex glowered at Derrick over his meal. “You might think yourself wise because you’ve enjoyed two winters in this gods’ forsaken place,” he said brusquely, “but there is nothing wrong with choosing a comfortable life.”

  “A shame you fell in love with a Combat mage.”

  “A shame indeed.” Alex looked wistful.

  “You know Ella wants to be stationed up here, right? She hates the cold, but she still wants the glory.” Nothing was more fun than teasing my twin, especially in the recent months. It was obvious to everyone except him how deep he’d fallen. The poor sap didn’t stand a chance.

  Alex made a face. “I will make it my mission to talk her around.”

  “You only have a couple more weeks,” I replied snidely, “and then we’ll be in the capital.”

  “You grow more insolent every day.” Alex threw a piece of his toast in my direction. I dodged it easily. “Must be your inflated sense of pride. You and Derrick are one in the same, nothing but a bunch of overfed peacocks.”

  “That we are.” Derrick snickered as he turned to Alex with a sly grin on his face. “Well, if your ladylove declines to join you south, I would be happy to have her stay up north with Ryiah and me. Ella grows lovelier every time I set eyes on her.” Derrick ducked just in time to avoid Alex’s fist.

  The innkeeper barked at Alex to stop riling his customers.

  I shot my embarrassed brother a grin. “You know Derrick only teases you because you are so easy to rattle.”

  “Yes,” Derrick added, “that and I’m afraid I’ve grown restless. Eight months is far too long to go without fighting any Caltothians.” He shrugged. “Those drills my commander puts us through are no use. I’m not accustomed to peace.”

  “It’s not peace,” I reminded him tersely. “It’s the quiet before the storm.” I glanced at Alex. “And you, even if you two aren’t stationed together, she’ll wait for you. All you have to do is ask. I, for one, would love to have another girl in this family.”

  Alex turned a deep shade of red and busied himself with his stew.

  Derrick picked up the conversation, steering me toward a much-needed debate on the merits of a two-handed axe. I became so engrossed in conversation I almost missed the tolling of the midnight hour. Alex and I groaned our apologies to Derrick and then retired to the stables for our final night’s ride to the keep’s barracks.

  In a couple short hours, we would be back on King’s Road, headed for the palace… Only this time we would leave it as mages.

  22

  “I have never been more terrified in my life.” Alex was writhing in his best clothes—a silk-lined tunic and fresh-pressed breeches. Ella reached out to straighten his hem and then pushed back his bangs, laughing.

  “Master Joan is much less intimidating than Byron,” she teased. “It’ll be over before you know it. And just think, when it is, you’ll emerge looking handsomer than before in a red Restoration robe.”

  I smirked. “And if not, at least your face will match the rest of you.”

  Alex paled and Ella gave him a quick kiss in the cheek, wagging her finger at me as she did. “Leave your poor brother alone,” she chided. “If he gets any more nervous, he’ll sweat through his shirt. I hardly think we can find another in time for the ceremony.”

  I fingered my own garb. I felt exposed in the dress I was wearing—a soft lilac thing with a bodice that felt much too tight. It didn’t seem right to wear something so feminine going into an ascension for Combat, but Ella had assured me that was exactly why I should. “You’re a woman,” she’d insisted. “We’re already a minority in all of the war schools—not just our own faction as mages. It would do good to remind the audience that we can be both.”

  And so now here I was, unable to breathe—which I must admit was becoming a common occurrence around Ella during important occasions in general—and dreading the rest of the evening. Master Byron’s attitude toward me hadn’t grown any better in the last couple of months, and I’d no doubt what my standing would be at the end of the ceremony. Even though I had Commander Nyx’s offer to hold onto, it did little to sway the deep sense of foreboding that was growing more prevalent by the second. In less than an hour, I would have to face the world as a fifth-rank mage.

  By the time Ella had finished adjusting Alex’s new tunic, it was time to go. I gathered the hem of my dress and followed my brother and friend into the palace’s throne room. There was a red- and gold-lined rug that trailed down the center of the great hall, folding several times on tall steps before finally resting under a large gold-adorned throne marked with plush red cushions and thick golden arms. The king studied the apprentices as we entered.

  One by one, each of us kneeled before him and then separated into three distinct rows: Restoration closest to the front and Combat at the rear.

  Prince Blayne sat in a less ornate chair than his father, but he still looked regal and cold in a matching hematite and steel crown. He had an air of extreme boredom as each apprentice entered, with only the slightest note of interest when his brother appeared.

  Behind the throne, three massive stained glass windows cast rays of light across the hall and onto the side risers at either end where the nobility and our younger factionmates sat watching. Several members of the King’s Regiment stood guard at the front and back of the room while the Council of Magic and Crown Advisors sat in a small stand to the left of the king to watch the proceedings from their own special box.

  The three faction masters strode forward to begin our rite. Ella giggled into her hand and pointed. Master Byron looked beyond miserable standing between Master Joan and Master Perry. From his strained tone, it was obvious he would rather be anywhere else than close quarters with the two female mages.

  “…To defend all those in need of rescuing.”

  We all answered in unison. “I so
lemnly pledge.”

  “To speak the truth to all questions asked. No matter the consequence.”

  “I solemnly pledge.”

  “To be loyal to your commander in trying times. To exercise caution before magic.”

  “I solemnly pledge.”

  “To be brave in times of danger. To obey Crown and Council Law in all matters of service.”

  “I solemnly pledge.”

  “To be kind in times of need. To only fight when it is necessary. “

  “I solemnly pledge.”

  “To be a mage of honor and valiance. To always put the Crown before yourself.”

  “As a mage to the Crown and Jerar, I solemnly pledge.”

  Commander Joan took a step forward to call on her Restoration mages, one by one. When she called Alex, he was given the third rank. Though we were supposed to remain silent during the entire ceremony, it did not stop me from letting out a small shriek and Ella from clapping almost hysterically loud.

  Master Perry went next with her Alchemy mages. Ruth was given first-rank. I should have known. She always was the best of her faction. I watched her, envious, as she returned back to her seat.

  Then it was time for Combat.

  Master Byron stood proudly as he called, “In the matter of first-rank ascension, I would like to call forward our very own Prince Darren, second-in-line to the throne and now first-rank mage of Combat.”

  I watched as the prince left his position in line to kneel before his father, his brother, and then, finally, Master Byron. When he arose, a servant handed him a silken black robe. Darren’s face was expressionless as he slid the smooth mage’s robe over his regular clothes, letting the hood rest on his head for just a moment before it slid back onto his shoulders.