The Black Mage: Complete Series

by Rachel E. Carter

  Her body went limp in my arms. It was that same moment footsteps sounded outside.

  King’s Regiment. I withdrew the half-rapier from Paige’s back and blinked away tears as I gently laid her down. With two shaking fingers, I shut the lids of her eyes and then stood, crouching against the shadows and readying to run.

  Her sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain.

  The steps drew closer as someone approached the kennel door.

  “Paige?” Someone knocked. “I saw the horse. I know you’re there.”

  I wanted to collapse in relief. Darren. It was Darren.

  And then I remembered who else was in the kennels with me. I had already lived out this scenario once. I knew whom Darren would believe.

  Blayne moaned from the other side of the room, but he was far past the point of shouting his brother’s name.

  My pulse thundered in my ears. I couldn’t call out to Darren; I couldn’t let him open the door and find me like this.

  He’ll know either way.

  I bit down on my tongue. Blayne’s muffled groans were growing softer. Maybe Darren wouldn’t hear. Maybe he’d go away.

  I drew a sharp breath as the door creaked. “Mira is only minutes behind me.” Darren’s outline was swathed with light. Storm clouds rolled behind his shadowy form. “I managed to lose her, but…”

  He stopped talking.

  I was standing in the center of the hall. My guard uniform was covered in blood, and my hair was plastered to my face and neck, short and brown. I looked nothing like my former self. Still, it took all of one second for recognition to cross his face.

  “Ryiah?”

  I didn’t say anything. I stood there, watching his gaze slide to the floor.

  To Paige.

  A sharp intake of breath. “Why is s-she—”

  His hand caught on the frame as he spotted Wolf. Darren let out a horrible choking noise as he rushed forward.

  Then, he spotted his brother.

  I stood frozen, unable to move.

  The prince dropped to Blayne’s side, hollering for a healer at the top of his lungs. His hands shook as he tore at his sleeve, desperately trying to plug the wound.

  I knew I should run. I knew what it looked like. I knew what it was. I knew the guards would be here any second.

  But I still couldn’t run.

  Darren’s heart was breaking, and all I could do was watch him clutch his dying brother as Blayne sputtered, choking on his own blood.

  “D-Darren…” My lips couldn’t form the words; my throat was dry and my tongue felt like sand.

  Run, Ryiah.

  But my feet were frozen in place. I had to explain; I couldn’t.

  “How could you?” Darren’s voice was hoarse, and when I looked, there was only pain.

  So much pain it was drowning me alive.

  “It’s n-not w-what you t-think.” I stammered, seeing the betrayal in his eyes and the way his shoulders shook as he cradled his brother to his chest.

  “Why run,” he croaked, “when you can kill a king instead?”

  I realized the broken rapier was still in my hand, dripping blood. It dropped to the floor. “I-I—”

  “Paige tried to stop you.” His fists clenched against his brother’s shirt. “So you took her life as well.”

  “No!” My throat was raw. “Darren, y-your brother a-attacked m-me.”

  Darren wasn’t listening. “And then Wolf.” His voice caught as his eyes fell to his dog. The one happy memory from a dark childhood. “You took… everything.”

  I heard others running, but I couldn’t bother to move. My eyes were locked on the prince as the kennel doors swung wide.

  “Guards!” Mira’s screech was all I needed to know that I’d been found. “It’s the rebel! Stop her!”

  The prince’s gaze was still locked on mine. He made no move to correct the head mage’s orders.

  His expression was empty. Shattered.

  Run.

  I tore my eyes away. I didn’t have time to think. I ducked as a spear flew over my head. My fingers dug into Paige’s breeches, and I yanked the Crown necklace with a trembling hand and snatched the broken rapier with my other.

  Something sharp whizzed past my shoulder as another knife narrowly missed my ribs.

  I rolled, my shoulder roaring in offense. Then I thrust the jagged blade through my skin. I didn’t stop until I scraped against bone. The pain almost made my legs give out.

  Then the air gave a loud pop, an explosion of pressure and sound.

  Anyone standing was thrown back against the wall with all the force of a tempest.

  For a moment, there was only the heavy patter of rain and the dark sky from above.

  I didn’t look at him once. I couldn’t. Not if I wanted to leave.

  Then I was running. Through the doors, across the clearing, leaping onto the mare’s saddle, and cutting the lead. I kicked my heels, leaning low as the horse took off across the palace yard.

  There were shouts from just beyond. I jerked the mare to the right as an arrow soared just past my neck. I rode on and on while the storm muffled their shouts. Mira’s men were forced to follow on foot.

  I had only seconds to spare.

  When we reached the iron gate, two soldiers were standing guard, polearms crossed.

  I tossed the prince’s chain at the nearest man’s feet. It sloshed in the mud, but it’s cut and color was unmistakable.

  “Crown’s orders!” My heart was halfway in my throat and the rain was washing away the brown dye with every second I sat there, panting. “Let me pass!”

  The soldier looked up at me through sopping bangs, squinting through the rain. He wasn’t supposed to question orders, and that necklace was as familiar as the throne. He couldn’t argue with the stranger in front of him, lest he risk execution.

  The man nodded to his comrade, and the two unlocked the bars.

  The metal quivered and groaned, and I didn’t bother to wait for them to clear more than a gap.

  “Stop her!” Mira screamed at the top of her lungs, but it was too late.

  I was just a shadow streaking across the cobblestone streets of Devon.

  A shooting star, caught in the rain, cloaked in death and betrayal. Burning everything I touched with my crystalline shards.

  I was breaking with every roll of thunder, every streak of lightning across the pitch-black expanse. But I kept on.

  I was a traitor to the Crown.

  And this time, there was no turning back.

  14

  The first two nights I didn’t sleep. I rode as long and hard as I dared, taking what little shelter I could find in barns during the worst bits of the storm. It never ceased. The mare was exhausted, but at least she was able to rest during those brief stops.

  I couldn’t sleep. With every shift in the straw, every dance of hooves, and every branch that snapped outside in the winds, I was certain the Crown’s Army soldiers were right outside the stable doors.

  I survived on what provisions were stuffed into my pack; it was a week’s supply for two. I tried not to remember why that was. If I started to reflect on my last night in the palace, I wouldn’t be able to shut out the emotions that came with it. I couldn’t escape the pain and loss forever, but if I caved to it now, the regiment would find me and then Paige’s sacrifice would be for nothing.

  My heart splintered with every mile I rode, but every so often the pain would fade. I still felt every broken rib and physical torment along my limbs, but the grief and regret were becoming a distant ache.

  With every hour that passed, there was a scab growing around my heart. A fire was burning out everything and leaving me with a hardened layer of coal.

  After everything I had gone through in the last year, I had no more tears left to cry. I was stone, and everything Blayne and the others had done, everything I had done… It was all becoming ash.

  War had a price, and this war hadn’t even begun.

  Two days of riding and
I hadn’t spotted a patrol once. I knew it was only a matter of time. Mira would have men scouring every inch of the land. As soon as Blayne recovered, he would have bounty hunters competing for my head. I didn’t want to know Darren’s role, and I refused to consider it.

  There were too many concerns at hand.

  I needed to get to Demsh’aa before regiment soldiers reached my parents. I needed to find my brother at the keep and make sure the Crown didn’t take out my betrayal on those I loved. Once my family was safe, somewhere the king and his Black Mage could never find, then I could concentrate on the rest.

  On the fourth morning, I had ridden the palfrey to her point of exhaustion. The little rest she received was not enough to make up for the miles and miles we’d covered in a short span of time.

  I risked daylight to sneak into an inn’s stable close to the King’s Road. There, I switched out my mount for one of the occupants’ instead. I could now add theft to my growing list of crimes, but I didn’t have a choice. The mare was drawing too many eyes—not many traders had a thoroughbred that could fetch the price of a year’s worth of rations—and I needed an energized mount, ideally a brown, nonsensical steed that wouldn’t draw bandits and regiment mages to my trail.

  The sixth day, I got lucky and came across a small hut off the road, with linens hanging out to dry above a bed bursting with root vegetables. I managed to steal two pairs of men’s breeches and a fresh shirt before a tall, broad-shouldered man came to chase me away, hollering at the top of his lungs, but not before I snagged some carrots and parsnips.

  Later that afternoon, I found a stream. It was so cold my teeth chattered, but I scrubbed until every last speck of blood was gone. Every part of me stung as I rubbed until I was raw.

  Then I burned the old uniform, taking with it every memory of that night.

  Like a phoenix born again, a red-haired boy emerged where a girl had once been.

  The land had a familiar call the closer I got to home: crickets and the quiet rustling of clove trees alongside icy plain winds. I passed less and less farmland, and the terrain began to slope with more elevation and rocks. I recognized the boulders I used to climb as a child, just a speck in the distance but as familiar as rain.

  I supposed it was only fitting that on my seventh day I came across a listing hammered onto a wooden post with a sketch of my face. There were more further west, lining the King’s Road:

  WANTED: RYIAH OF DEMSH’AA, FORMERLY A PRINCESS OF JERAR. HIGH TREASON. ATTEMPTED MURDER OF THE KING. HAS MAGIC AND VERY DANGEROUS. NEW TITLES AND LAND FOR INFORMATION LEADING TO HER ARREST. BRING IN ALIVE.

  My knuckles grew white against the reigns. The regiment had beaten me home.

  My parents.

  Common sense dictated I make a run for the keep. Alex and Ella. It might not be too late for them.

  But even as the thought crossed my mind, I was kicking my horse into a gallop, urging him west. I couldn’t leave without checking on my parents first. Maybe they had gotten out in time.

  Or maybe the regiment had them, and if they did…

  Just beyond the trees lining the main road was an old trail that circled back into the village. It wasn’t used by most; there were too many dead ends and the unstable ground made it the last choice for a traveler on horseback, but I knew it like the back of my hands. My parents had sent Alex, Derrick, and I on countless supply runs for plants that grew along the trail.

  I spent the next three hours climbing the hills and carefully edging my horse along a steep pass that wove around to the backside of my town.

  I didn’t come across a soldier or villager once. The road was as empty as could be. The ground was still frosted over, and it was growing dim; no one would be venturing to collect anything now when the land still had the last remnants of winter keeping the edibles deep underground.

  When the trail finally came to a halt, I was standing outside the local tavern as the sun set, listening to the jumble of voices inside. That wasn’t the sound of a village overwhelmed by the regiment awaiting a notorious criminal’s return. It was the clink of glasses and celebratory day’s end.

  Still, just because I couldn’t see or hear them didn’t mean a patrol wasn’t present. I wasn’t taking any chances.

  I tied my steed to a shaded fence and then ducked along the backside of the village, hiding under ledges and shadows as I made my way down the familiar alley. It was easy, really. Most of the villagers were already inside. Warm candlelight peaked through heavy curtains, and the familiar wafting scent of stew and rosemary hit me as I passed.

  The only movement outside was the repetitive scratching of branches against the buildings’ walls and the chickens scavenging for food. Occasionally I heard someone making their way across to the well, but that was in the town center, and I was skirting the back.

  I had just turned the final corner when I lost my footing and stared.

  The apothecary was still lit up from within. Even as far away as I was, I could hear the lilt of conversation over the wind. Shadows moved inside and someone was laughing—a light tinkle, like my mother’s.

  No one would be laughing if there were guards.

  In all of two seconds, I was sprinting down the path, all semblance of stealth forgotten. My parents were inside, filling orders just as they always had, hours into the night.

  And then as my hand hovered above the door, I started to back away. There was another female voice, too. A younger one. And now that I was here, the light tinkle of the first was a bit too high. It was the two apprentices that ran the shop with my parents. And I didn’t hear a man’s voice above the din.

  What am I doing? But I couldn’t bring myself to turn away. I had to know. I hadn’t come this far just to run. I would face the truth, for Alex.

  Refusing to spend any more time debating the chances of my parents’ escape, I set to pounding on the door as loud and as fast as I could. The sooner I disappeared from the street, the better.

  A moment later, the door swung open and I found myself facing Teegan. Her jaw dropped, and she stood there staring as the older girl shoved past, eyes bulging.

  “Ryiah?” She didn’t stare like the other; her hand was locked on the frame.

  I didn’t have time for niceties. I shoved my way past and slammed the door shut behind us, turning on both of them.

  “Where are my parents?”

  The first was still gaping, but the older, Cassidy, was clutching a knife. She must have grabbed it while my back was turned. I could see the distrust in her eyes.

  “You tried to kill the king.”

  “I tried to do a lot of things.” I advanced on both girls, brandishing a casted sword to remind them of who I really was and what I was capable of. I didn’t have time to explain. “But that’s not why I am here. Now tell me—”

  “They ran,” Teegan said. Her lip trembled as the blade pointed at her older sister’s throat. “Two days ago. They just packed up and left us here to manage the shop in their stead.”

  “When did the patrols arrive?”

  “Yester—”

  “The knights put up those posters.” Cassidy cut her sister off with a start. “They told us what you did, Ryiah. That you tried to kill the king.” She was glaring at me, despite the blade. I had to give her credit; she was brave. “Is that why your parents ran? Are they rebels too?”

  Both girls looked tense.

  “They’re blameless.” I withdrew the sword. There was no point in sticking around now. My parents were safe, and who knew where the patrol was now. They could be in the tavern or watching the ridge.

  “Why did you do it?”

  I locked eyes with Cassidy. Does she really want to know, or is she trying to stall me?

  “The Crown doesn’t have its people at heart.”

  The girl studied my face, and I held her gaze with my own. No wonder my mother had chosen to apprentice her; she reminded me of myself—a younger version, if I had chosen to remain home instead of chasing my dreams
at the Academy.

  “You must be hungry.” Cassidy motioned to the younger girl to go fetch a basket of bread. “Teegan will pack you enough to get to wherever you need to go. Would you like a bite to eat?”

  For a moment, I considered her offer. I needed supplies—potions would help, and my stomach rumbled just at the mention of food—but this was all too convenient.

  I was about to make my excuses when Cassidy’s eye caught my own. A lump in her throat bobbed as her gaze darted toward the curtain, and then back to my face. “Stay,” her words were light, but her expression was not, “I’ll make some tea.”

  “Now that you’ve mentioned it…” My hand twisted the door’s handle and the squeal of its hinges was all I needed to alert whoever was hiding behind the pair of curtains to my left. The girls darted right.

  My casting shot off just as the mage emerged a second too late. My magic sent him sprawling against the wall.

  I turned and fled.

  Cassidy’s screech followed me out the door. “The rebel is here!”

  So much for loyalty. To be fair, she thought I was the enemy. I might have done the same, were our roles reversed.

  I barely had time to cast before something hit my shield, sending a ripple of purple down my globe. I raced down the alley, this time not bothering to hide my presence, as shouts and more projections rained down on me like missiles from above.

  In five minutes, I was severing the lead, sending my horse into a gallop as we tore up the rocky hillside, and fleeing north.

  I didn’t stop once. For the first hour, I heard distant shouts—sounds of the two or three regiment mages scouring the ground as fumbling soldiers tried to lead them through the dark. But in the end, it didn’t matter.

  I grew up in these woods; the mages hadn’t. The soldiers might have taken up posts after their year in the Cavalry, but they hadn’t spent summers climbing the trees and darting along the trails like the village children. They might have a vague idea of where I was, but in the time it would take to reach me, I would be long gone.

  It was an uncomfortable trek without a full moon to guide my way; at parts I was forced to dismount and hike. The trail grew so steep and narrow that there was no other choice. But eventually, the sun rose and, with it, my relief.