The Black Mage: Apprentice

by Rachel E. Carter

  Tamora met my eyes, not quite understanding but seeming to trust the pleading tone of my voice. The girl swallowed the potion and then fell to sleep in my arms immediately.

  Thank the gods for Alchemy.

  Returning focus to the rocky trail in front of me, I sped up to catch up with Cethan. The man was lumbering through the forest like it was nothing, even though the lady he was carrying was easily five times the weight of her child.

  "You can't be mortal," I wheezed.

  The corner of the mage's lip twitched – but that was it. Cethan was too in control of his emotions to chuckle or laugh. I took it in stride anyway. He didn't smile for anything.

  After three hours of running, climbing, and small bursts of hiding we reached the camp we had left behind the night before. All of our stuff was still hidden deep under brush and the others quickly set to work locating our sleeping rolls and the rest of the supplies, including a much more comfortable change of clothes (it hadn't been easy running in a full skirt but thankfully I'd had on my most comfortable boots beneath).

  Cethan and Andy took charge of our hostages. Lady Sybil refused to speak except to ask for her daughter. Her eyes were red – undoubtedly from crying - and she had dark welts across her cheeks from where the gag had been placed too tight. I could see that her wrists had been rubbed raw from constant jostling during the escape, and yet despite her obvious suffering the woman remained strong. Her keen blue eyes unfazed.

  Flint set out our supper: cold jerky and two fresh loaves he'd managed to steal during the hour he'd been patrolling the tunnel's exit. Everyone exhaled loudly at the scent of fresh bread. At sea we'd been living on almost nothing but overly salted meats, barely preserved vegetables, and very stale baker's rolls that Andy had referred to as "rocks."

  I watched Lady Sybil cradle her sleeping child - Andy had explained to the baroness that Tamora would be out for two days with the dose we had given her - and swallowed hard. The lady refused to eat. It was hard to imagine a woman like that – one that was brushing the strands of hair out of her daughter's eyes and adjusting the pale silk ribbon on the waist of her dress - was responsible for the rebel attacks in the desert. What was so important about this woman? She was only a baroness with no relation to the monarchy in Caltoth. She wasn't even a mage.

  Darren took a seat on the other edge of the log Andy and I were sitting on. In his hands he was rotating a bit of his bread over and over again, watching Lady Sybil with an unreadable expression. I didn't say anything but I knew instinctively he was wondering the same thing I was. I knew he carried the weight of Caine's death on his shoulders, and I could see him trying to figure out the baroness's role in all of this. We weren't allowed to question the prisoner - Mira had made that very clear on our first day out at sea - but that didn't stop us from wondering.

  Somehow my hand found a way to his, almost unconsciously. Darren looked up, startled, and I gave it a small squeeze. We had succeeded so far in our mission. Soon, eventually, this woman put an end to his guilt. We had accomplished a very important thing for our country… even if we didn't know what is was yet.

  The prince cracked the barest of a smile and then his eyes fell to our interlocked fingers. My heartbeat stilled. I knew I had overstepped my bounds - that I should let go before it became more than a friendly reassurance - but then I saw his expression: not anger, not longing – grief, the same look he had worn during the funeral pyres in Red Desert.

  Darren wasn't thinking about me. He was thinking about all the lives we had lost in the rebel attacks.

  "It wasn't your fault," I whispered.

  The non-heir didn't say anything. The only indication he had heard me was the tightening of his hand.

  Just tonight, I decided, I would let it remain.

  ****

  We had been traveling all day with relatively no rest. Our pace was slower than the day before, but not by much. Mira was convinced the Caltothians would be flooding the forest at any moment.

  We had just settled into to a quick break to finish off the remains of our water when the low crunch of leaves alerted me of approaching enemies.

  "Cast now!"

  My warning came just in time - the rest of the group threw out a barrier. Arrows began to rain down from above, hitting the magicked barrier and then falling harmlessly to its side.

  Someone groaned to my right and I saw Andy had not been so lucky. One of the enemy's missiles had got to her before the casting. I started forward to help but Cethan grabbed my arm and pointed to Tamora, grunting. Our first responsibility was to the mission, not a comrade. Still, I hesitated a moment longer until I saw Darren approach Andy.

  Mira shouted for us to run – that she, Darren, and Andy would hold the Caltothians off as long as they could. When it was safe they would follow - if they could. "Remain with the ship as long as you can," she shouted, "but if the enemy arrives you must leave us behind. The fate of Jerar depends on this mission!"

  So I ran.

  The sun was already setting. Bright shards of light were shooting through the trees and blinding me as I followed Cethan and Flint along the trail. I could hear the shouts, the pounding of footsteps, the whistle of things cutting across the air, but I ignored it all and focused only on the girl in my arms and Flint's breathless direction.

  We must have run for an hour before the sounds of fighting finally subsided from hearing. It made me anxious, scared for the others. How was Andy faring with her injured arm? Where was Darren? What would happen if our leader, Mira, was dead?

  Cethan, Flint, and I slowed down our progress to double check the landmarks nearest.

  There was a snap in the brush behind us and I swung around ready to cast-

  It was only a deer.

  Cethan grabbed my arm and we continued our trek, more careful not to leave a trace now that we were close to the ship. Flint followed behind, scattering needles and dirt over our path so that it wouldn't be quite so obvious which direction we had taken.

  Finally, after forty more minutes of cautious hiking we located our ship. I handed Tamora over to Flint and he and Cethan loaded the small paddleboat with the two hostages and our supplies and then paddled out to our ship anchored deep in the waters a quarter mile beyond the shore. I stood guard at the beach, scanning the tree line beyond it for any sign of an enemy – or the others - approaching.

  After the first half hour of waiting Cethan returned. Flint had chosen to remain on the ship with our prisoners but Cethan, like me, was concerned for the others. I knew he and Andy were close and had served many missions together, and while he didn't say it, I was pretty sure he cared for our harsh leader as well.

  "You can search the woods, if you like," the man told me quietly after the first hour had passed. It was too dark to see anything past the rocky beach now. Both of us were growing anxious as the minutes wore on, and when I glanced up at the large man I detected fear in his gaze. Mira would have wanted us both to guard the ship but it was evident the man's thoughts mirrored my own. He cleared his throat, "I'll stay here in case anyone…"

  A small glow of dim orange light cut its way along the shadows and I saw two dim figures limp slowly onto the open beach. Cethan and I watched warily, ready to cast at a moment's notice. My heart was choking my lungs, the pound of blood so heavy and frequent I couldn't hear anything over my racing pulse. Please, I begged, please be the others.

  As the figures drew closer, Andy and Mira's faces materialized in the darkness.

  Cethan let out a long, ragged breath. The big man ran forward to help Mira, while I went to Andy and half-carried her to the paddleboat Cethan had left in the sand. The green-eyed mage was barely holding on – her knees seemed to give out the moment I set her down. Her face was streaked with sweat and dried blood.

  A moment later Cethan placed Mira down beside her. Then the two of us glanced back to the tree line. Where was Darren?

  "Did the prince make it back before us?" Andy croaked.

  My heartbeat froze
and my hands dropped the oars I'd been about to hand to Cethan.

  Andy swore as she realized my reaction.

  "I'm going to find him."

  Mira's stern gaze met my own defiant one. "We will wait for him, apprentice. You must remain on the beach. The prince knows where to find us and I need you here to serve as a look out, not a hero."

  "What if Darren's lost?" I blurted out angrily. "What if he's injured and can't make it back on his own?"

  The woman glowered. "Believe me when I say it would be a tragedy I'd take to heart. But it is unwise to-"

  "He's a prince! I thought you served the Crown!"

  "He's not the heir," Mira cut me off shortly, "therefore, Darren is expendable in certain situations. The mission we serve right now is one of those."

  "But-" What kind of mission is more important than a prince's life?

  "I am done arguing. We will wait for him here, for as long as we can." Mira had already turned her back, ordering Cethan to take them to the ship.

  "I'll stand watch with Ryiah." Andy stepped off the boat, groaning.

  Mira glared at the mage. "Don't for a second think that I don't-"

  Andy put a firm hand on my shoulder trying not to wince. "I'll make sure Ryiah remains here, Mira, I know my duty."

  The leader kept her eyes on the two of us for a moment longer and then indicated for Cethan to continue paddling.

  As soon as they were out of hearing the mage spun me to face her. "Lightning," she said, "if you see it, whatever you are doing, get back to the beach. I will try to hold off the enemy as long as I can – but if it gets too much Mira will make us leave without you."

  "What are you-"

  "Go, Ryiah. Go find Darren."

  My feet were already zipping across the sand before the words finally registered in my mind.

  ****

  I tore across the dark forest. Long, black branches reached out like fingers to scrape across my skin. I cast out small balls of light, launching them in every which direction, trying to find any sign of the prince or where he had gone. The cold air whipped across my lungs like a knife. My frantic breathing was coming out in quick, sharp gasps.

  Darren could be anywhere. The others had said they'd been forced to separate two hours ago. Andy wasn't sure if he had gone deeper into the woods, or east toward the beach. One thing was certain: he wouldn't have gone south unless he'd been captured.

  I retraced my trail, following familiar landmarks and calling out as loudly as I dared.

  As the minutes ticked by and there was still no sign of Darren my searching became frantic. My quiet shouts gave way to desperate shrieks. I no longer cared if the enemy soldiers spotted me.

  I cast out large clouds of light, letting everything illuminate as if the entire forest had been struck by the sun. I knew Mira would be furious if she found out I was casting giant beacons of magic and screaming on the top of my lungs, but I was too far from the shore for my leader to stop me.

  Rational thinking had given way to panic and there was nothing holding me back.

  "DARREN!" I screamed. "DARREN!"

  It had been an hour and a half since I started. My castings had begun to falter, and while I knew it was reckless to use up all of my magic, I couldn't bring myself to stop.

  I made it back to where the soldiers had first spotted us. A handful of bloodied bodies littered the clearing in front of me. This was where Mira, Andy, and Darren had first held off the enemy…

  All of the bodies bore Caltothian insignia. None of them had dark brown hair. I exhaled slowly. The non-heir was safe, for now.

  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 someone 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 wipe away 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 chest 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 had 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 whole 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 s
o 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, uncontrollable 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 a million burning shards. White ice plunged into my chest. Invisible hands were choking my lungs until I could no longer breath.

  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 reminding me that the fallen prince was more than a friend, more than the wrong decision I had pretended he was.

  I saw Darren the first time I met him. In the mountain overpass as 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 broken, shattered, crumbling into pieces that would never, ever heal.