by Lucy Roy
“Alright. Lea and I have already planned a trip into the city.” Folding the parchment in half, she pointed it at him. “I’ll warn you now, though… I will not hold back once I’m let loose in Iladel’s boutiques. If the theme of the night is gemstones, expect my gown and hair to be dripping with them.”
“Noted.” At the sound of a door opening behind them, the commander flicked a glance over her shoulder. “Speak with Lea,” he said. “Go shopping. Enjoy yourself. And try not to injure any more of your classmates, please.”
She flashed him a grin and slid her schedule into her back pocket. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, Commander.”
Lea insisted on arriving to their first class, Toxins, ten minutes early to ensure they were able to get good seats. Upon arrival, though, it became clear that their definitions of same varied a bit.
“We need to sit up front,” Lea hissed from where she and Freya stood just inside the classroom door. “This way the professor will notice us, and we’ll be far less likely to get distracted.”
“No, seats toward the back are best,” Freya replied, shaking her head and gesturing toward the center rows of the room’s stadium-style seating. “You can hear better and keep an eye on the other students.”
“You mean get distracted by the other students!”
Freya lifted her brows. “I won’t get distracted.”
“Well, I will!” Lea exclaimed. “And I’d bet ten sils you will, too.”
Freya smirked and held out her hand. “I’ll take that bet.”
Scowling, Lea shook her hand determinedly. “Deal.”
Biting her cheeks to hold in her laughter, Freya led the way toward the fifth row, three from the back.
Once they were seated, desks folded down over their laps, Lea smiled and looked around. Then slowly, the smile slipped from her face and her eyes narrowed.
“Well played, my lady,” she grumbled.
Freya grinned. “I almost feel bad for tricking you.”
Lea eyed her dubiously. “Almost?”
Freya pursed her lips in consideration, holding the girl’s stare. “Alright. I’ll bet you another ten sils that you’ll end up preferring these seats to those down below before the end of the day.”
“Deal.”
Both turned to face the front, then Lea let out a muttered curse when she saw Myria, who’d just taken a seat in the center of the first row. “You knew she was there, didn’t you?”
Freya shrugged innocently. “Perhaps it’s just dumb luck?”
“Dumb luck,” Lea scoffed. “Under any other circumstances, I’d be impressed with your conniving tricks.”
Freya flashed her a smile, then looked around the room, curious to see what the workspace of someone with Florian’s reputation held. There was a long table at the front, undoubtedly used for experiments, that the eight rows of seats were centered around. Shelves lined the walls, all full of books and vials, powders, glass containers, and an uncomfortable number of wet specimens. At a quick glance, Freya counted at least fifty creatures floating in clear liquid, their eyes cloudy with death. Shadowboxes with various instruments and others with small skeletons hung on the walls beside framed anatomical sketches.
“What are they doing?” Lea asked, frowning toward where a number of students—roughly half of the class—were congregating around the large table at the front of the room.
“I’m not sure,” Freya murmured, watching as a few students walked away from the table holding small bowls and took their seats. “It looks like there is a… is that a spread of food?” She narrowed her eyes. “Should we—”
“No,” Lea replied, putting a hand on Freya’s arm. “Stay here.”
“Why?”
“Professors… they do things differently here, at least that’s what I’ve heard. We should wait.”
Just then, Doctor Florian, a wiry, dark-skinned male with a shock of white hair and a long, thin nose stepped into the room. He wore sleek black pants and a forest green shirt woven through with glittering onyx beads and gold thread, the richness of which assured Freya that, despite his current position as a professor, Florian had maintained his wealthy status after leaving his royal post. As she took in his face a bit more closely, she saw lines of age creasing the skin around his eyes and jaw. Linds, both shifter and magic-wielder, could and did live for thousands of years, reaching adulthood around the age of twenty before the aging process slowed to a glacial pace. The signs of age Florian showed… Freya let out a quiet breath. He could easily be one thousand years old.
The room went silent as he walked swiftly toward the wide table that currently held the food, his sharp-toed black shoes clicking loudly against the wood floor. Pausing, he looked at the fruits and cheeses that had been left on the table, smiling softly at the absence of nearly half the original volume.
“Ah, I see many of you have partaken in my generosity,” he said, turning his smile on the class. His voice was smooth and carried a tone that demanded attention in an unnerving way. “I always find a full belly helps students concentrate better, absorb more information than they would have otherwise.” His eyes, flat and black, traveled over the rows of desks, seeming to touch on each student in turn. Freya didn’t miss the slight lift in his brow when his gaze landed on her before skipping to Lea.
With a clap of his hands, the food disappeared. “Well, then, let’s get started.” He pointed a long finger toward a small male in the second row, then clasped his hands behind his back. “What would you say one of the most important lessons you could take from this class might be?”
Paling under Florian’s gaze, the male shrank into his seat a bit. “I—I suppose one lesson might be how to discern between one toxin and another?”
Florian nodded and began to pace slowly. “Yes, of course. Another?”
The brown-haired girl Freya had seen with Myria at lunch the day before raised her hand. “The effects of toxins and their antidotes?”
“Very good, Lady Leston. Lady Calliwell, another?”
Lea narrowed her eyes, then tilted her head and smiled. “How to determine whether your food has been poisoned?”
“Certainly.” Pausing, he studied the class once again before speaking before his sharp eyes landed on Myria. “Tell me, what is the side effect of consuming pure lindberry root?”
Myria sat up a bit straighter in her seat. “Severe stomach pain in mild cases, death in the most severe.”
“Dependent on… what, Lord Raster?” Florian shifted his gaze to a pale-skinned male with bark-brown hair three seats down.
“The severity depends on the amount ingested and the method of delivery,” Raster replied immediately.
Freya rested her elbow on her desk, covering her mouth with her hand to conceal her horrified amusement as realization sunk in. “Brilliant,” she murmured.
Lea murmured a hum of agreement.
Florian shifted his gaze to Freya, and something in the way her looked at her had her hand standing on end. “Ah. What would be the most efficient method of delivery for lindberry root?”
Freya did her best to ignore the muffled snicker that slipped through Lea’s lips.
“The most efficient way of delivering lindberryroot poison is through sweet food.” She bit her lip, then continued. “It’s got a high concentration of natural sugar, so fruits that are also high in sugar generally work best to conceal the taste. Lindberries, themselves, can easily conceal the flavor of their root extract.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up, then his eyes slid to Lea. “Lady Calliwell, what types of fruit would you say are the sweetest?”
Tears of laughter had formed in Lea’s eyes. Taking a deep breath, she cleared her throat. “Well, Professor, I would say lindberries, themselves, can easily conceal the flavor of their root extract.” Her lips twitched. “Jewel fruit—red, not green—would also be a good choice.”
Freya’s teeth clamped down on the inside of her cheek as Myria’s hand froze over the bowl of fruit she
’d been about to start eating.
An easy smile spread across Florian’s pale face. “Correct. Grapes, sun fruit, and summer apples are also good choices.”
Awareness fell across the room as the students who’d all been devouring those four things set their snacks down. Silence hung as Florian stared at each student in turn, his quiet demeanor slipping into something more sinister.
“There’s one lesson I’m surprised none of you have mentioned. Would anyone care to take a guess as to what it might be?”
Freya slowly raised her hand. He gave her a slight nod.
“Take care in consuming anything of unknown origins?”
“Precisely.” Florian grinned, wide and wicked, at the male in the front row who’d been the first to answer one of his questions suddenly began to wretch. “If you don’t know where a spread of food came from—” he raised his voice as three other students began to heave and a fourth vomited on the floor “— then it’s best you don’t consume it.” Mock sympathy filled his features as Myria’s friend clutched her stomach and began to sob in pain. “Now… who would like to inform our victims of the antidote?”
Raster raised his hand, staring wide-eyed down at his writhing classmates. “Time.”
Florian nodded sagely. “Time. Those of you who consumed fruit will spend the remainder of the day in the infirmary. Any work you miss in other courses will be your responsibility to make up. That goes for this course, as well.” He snapped his fingers and the poisoned students disappeared. “The rest of you, open your books.”
Chapter 8
The rest of their first Toxins session was relatively tame compared to those first few minutes. The bulk of the remaining two hours consisted of a review of basic poison-handling skills, along with a less-than-subtle threat from Florian that today’s experiment wouldn’t be the last of its kind. While most students seemed terrified to speak up, a small handful were clearly eager to dive in, despite the fact that their professor seemed more than inclined to poison anyone who answered incorrectly. Not wanting to fall victim to her mercurial professor next, Freya made sure to keep Toxins at the top of her list of class priorities.
After sitting through a Civics course with Lazarus that promised to be mildly interesting, he and Freya made their way to the dining hall for lunch with Lea and Collin. The hall buzzed a bit louder than the previous two days as students congregated, excited to share bits of their first day with one another. There was a more hurried feel as they squeezed their conversations and lunches in during the limited time between morning and afternoon courses.
Once they’d eaten their fill, the four returned to their rooms to change into proper sparring clothes for Combat, which would encompass the entire afternoon.
Freya smiled as she slid into her soft leather pants and a fitted white shirt, happy to have them on once again. As she stepped into her dirty, scuffed boots and began to lace them up, she couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose. A new pair would definitely be in order when she and Lea made their next trip to Iladel.
“I adore your pants, Freya,” Lea commented as she dressed. “Are they custom made?”
“They are,” Freya replied, brushing a hand along the soft, spelled material that covered her thighs. “The leatherworkers in Allanor are incredibly skilled.” The spellwork that strengthened the material was one of Freya’s more closely-guarded secrets when it came to her protective attire. The protections she’d woven in had saved her skin from being sliced and burned on more than one occasion.
Inadvertently, she glanced at Lea’s thick, black pants and gray muslin shirt. A pair of flexible leather slippers, seemingly never worn, sat on the floor beside her bed. Lea followed her gaze and flushed.
“I told my mother I needed proper boots for this, but she insisted on flexibility, as though I’m going to be dancing or some nonsense.” Dropping onto the edge of the bed in frustration, she tugged on the shoes. “I know I’m just asking to get my toes broken in these.”
“Could you heal yourself if you did?” Freya asked.
Lea shook her head reluctantly. “My magic is purely elemental, so at best I’d be able to treat the pain with some earth magic, but I wouldn’t be able to heal it.”
“Well, not to worry.” Freya flashed her a smile, then leaned into her wardrobe and pulled out a pair of black boots that laced up the calf. “You look to be about my size,” she said, tossing the boots toward Lea. “The toe is reinforced with Caelorian steel, so take care if you start throwing kicks about. I’ll be needing a new pair, myself, so we should take a trip to the leatherworker on our shopping trip.”
Lea toed off the slippers, then took the boots with a relieved sigh and pulled them on. Once they were laced up, she wiggled her toes and smiled. “I expected them to be heavier, but they fit like a second skin. Thank you, Freya. The bulk of my physical training was with instructors who were too afraid to hurt me, so those silly things were more than adequate,” she said as she kicked her discarded pair toward her armoire. “I appreciate the help.”
“Of course.” Freya bit her bottom lip. “And I suppose we should decide when we’re going shopping.”
Lea squealed, then clapped her hands in excitement. “Ooo yes!” She beamed and bounced on her toes. “We’ve got so many events in the coming months. Oh, this is going to be so exciting!”
Freya laughed. “I didn’t expect quite so much enthusiasm, but I suppose it’s appreciated.”
“Oh, shush!” Lea huffed, exasperated. “I see right through your ruse, Freya. You’re no stranger to formalwear, and I would even go so far as to say you enjoy putting on some finery now and then.”
Freya sneered, but chose not to confirm Lea’s very true assessment. Iladel was home to some of the five realms’ finest wares, from gemstones and silks to culinary delicacies. Only a fool wouldn’t be eager to explore and sample them all, especially when, according to the commander, her expenses were covered.
If there was one thing Freya wasn’t, it was a fool.
“Friday, then?” Freya asked.
Lea nodded as she twisted her curly hair back into a tight plait. “Yes, that should give us enough time to go over what we’ll need.”
“So, will the boys be attending the same events?” Freya asked as they made their way outside and toward the training yard.
“Of course!” Lea said, laughing. “Lazarus is part of the royal family, just like me, and he and Collin are hardly ever separated. Besides,” she added, “it’s only fair they be forced to submit to the court’s whims now and then.”
Freya laughed. “They’ve been together a while?”
Lea rolled her eyes. “They met when they were children, back when their families would summer in Edhil. If you ask Laz, he’d say he laid claim when they were twelve. If you speak to his more sensible other half, you’d know they started seeing each other when they were sixteen.”
“Laz does seem to be the dreamer of the two, doesn’t he?”
Lea snorted. “At times, although he’s much smarter than he lets on.”
The yard was more crowded than Freya expected when they arrived, and as they got closer, she saw the cause. Two of the prince’s black-uniformed guards stood sentry along the outer walls, blocking the entrance as a gaggle of females hovered nearby.
“Ugh, lovely,” Lea groaned. “I do hope this passes soon. Although, considering my cousin’s tendency to attract attention…”
“We’ll be subject to an audience every day?” Freya finished, eyeing the crowd with annoyance.
Lea halted in her tracks, touching a hand to Freya’s arm to stop her. “Freya, while I adore you and am quite certain we’re going to be great friends, I have to ask that you consider carefully how you handle my cousin when you’re instructed to spar with him.”
“When? Not ‘if’?” Freya asked, casting a wary look toward the yard.
“We’ll all be required to spar with each other, and, knowing him, he’ll request to spar with you immediately. He’s just that
cocksure, as I’m sure you recall, and he’ll want to feel you out a bit, see how you’ve changed over the last few years.” Lea sighed and put her hands on her hips. “And while I would kindly request that you spare me from your years of experience and expertise, I would also advise you against embarrassing Aerelius in front of the entire school.”
“Tell me what kind of warlock he is and I’ll gladly promise not to sully his reputation,” Freya said, sending Lea a sly look. One of her biggest annoyances since she’d last seen the prince was that her father wouldn’t tell her what powers the prince possessed. As hybrid of a shifter and a witch, Freya’s power had emerged when she was a small child. Linds who were pure warlocks, like Aerelius, didn’t reach their emergence until around the age of fourteen. As magic could fall into any of the five categories—earth, air, fire, water, and spirit—it was anyone’s guess what he could do. All Freya knew was that Aerelius’ had manifested not long after her last visit, and, as a royal, it would be stronger than that of the commoners she’d faced in Watoria. If she knew her old friend, he’d been honing his magic ever since.
“I can’t tell you that, although you’ll find out soon enough. Everyone will.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both. I can’t because I promised my aunt and uncle I’d let Aer show his power on his own terms, and I won’t because he’s my cousin and, despite his narcissistic tendencies, I love him and will honor that promise.”
Narrowing her eyes, Freya looked over the small crowd that had gathered outside. Smiling at Lea, she nodded. “Alright, Lea. I’ll be sure not to embarrass his highness in front of the entire school.”
Lea eyed Freya suspiciously. “Why do I feel as though you’re pulling another one over on me?”
Freya gave her a shocked look. “You know, Lady Calliwell, if we’re to be friends, you should really try to sort out your trust issues.” Patting her friend on the shoulder, she started walking toward the entrance, slipping her course schedule from her pocket. When they reached the line of guards, she held it up.