“Two silver marks to open, one to raise.”
“Wizards are the high card?”
“Of course.”
Jace dug out his coin purse, pulled out a few pieces of silver, and set the purse on the table. Olen dealt, giving each player seven cards. When Jace saw a wizard card in his hand, he decided to save it.
Better to lose the first few hands while I ask questions.
When his turn came around, he drew from the deck, careful to keep two cards pinched together. He discarded with one hand while slipping the wizard up the sleeve of his robe with the other, tucking the edge behind the hilt of the dagger hidden there.
“Why are you visiting Marquithe?” Parwick asked.
“I am seeking a girl.”
“Well, you’ll find more than a few in Marquithe,” Dermont said, causing everyone to chuckle. He then slid another silver to the middle of the table. “Raising.”
Jace and the others each slid a silver into the middle, then drew another card.
“This girl is special to me. She is the love of my life, but I don’t even know her name. I have been searching for some time, and I believe she is in Marquithe.”
Dermont flipped his cards over. “High castle,” he said, noting his strong hand.
The others around the table threw their cards down, and Dermont swept the pile of coins to himself.
Parwick picked up the cards and began to shuffle. “Can you describe this special girl?”
Jace gazed into the air, as if staring at a spectacular vista, his tone dreamy. “She is small of stature, with a dark complexion and dark hair. One might think she is younger than her true age, but her wisdom proves she is an adult. She is quick of wit and fit of body.” He added the last bit, sounding like an afterthought, “She also carries special weapons.”
Parwick’s bushy brows furrowed as he began to deal. “What sort of weapons?”
Jace shrugged. “I cannot say exactly. I guess I would describe them as daggers, but bent at an odd angle. Oh, and they can cut stone.”
“Cut stone?” Olen remarked.
“Enchanted,” Dermont said, nodding knowingly.
“Wait.” Benby spoke for the first time. “I saw someone matching that description in the menagerie.”
Jace turned toward the blond man, the youngest at the table, his face covered in pale scruff. “Menagerie?”
Benby nodded. “Yes. Outside the city.”
“You are right,” Dermont added. “I attended a performance many weeks ago, shortly after the menagerie first arrived. There was a girl in the show who uses enchanted blades. I didn’t think of it before because they seemed more like tools than weapons.”
“This girl…,” Jace asked as he lifted his cards. “What did she do in the show?”
“She was one of the acrobats. Dressed all in black with a fancy name, like Black Bird,” Dermont said.
“Black Sparrow,” Benby corrected.
Dermont nodded as he drew a card. “Yes. That’s it.”
Jace played out the hand, losing again while collecting another wizard card. He would lose another hand or two as he waited for the pile of coins in the center to grow. When he played his hand, he would walk away with a sizeable profit, but not enough to earn enemies. He had plenty of those already. Besides, he dared not create a situation that might reveal his lack of magic.
Money aside, he had already acquired what he needed. He now knew where to find the little thief. In the morning, he would visit her to retrieve the amulet.
The ground was trampled, the grass brown, dead, and beaten into submission. In some areas, only dirt lingered. Jace remained unsure as to what a menagerie was, other than some type of entertainment for those who could afford such things. Judging by what he found, it seemed to require many wagons, some carrying a lot of weight. Deep ruts led from the area to the road. He followed them and stopped at the edge of a downhill slope, his gaze sweeping the horizon.
Puffy clouds drifted east, driven by the same wind that bent the yellowed grass beside the road. Plowed fields and split-rail fences surrounded the farms dotting the vast plain. He spotted a pair of riders coming toward him and a farmer’s wagon farther out. Beyond that, he saw nothing, certainly no sign of a wagon train.
The menagerie must have left after she stole the amulet, but no later than yesterday, he thought.
If he waited, catching the girl would only become more difficult, so he resigned himself to departing by mid-day. The list of tasks he needed to complete before then ran through his head as he gazed at the vista. At the top of the list was procuring a horse. There were multiple places in Marquithe where he could obtain one using nothing but guile. With his objective in mind, Jace turned back toward the city.
Walls standing over a hundred feet tall loomed before him, dark and foreboding. They made the city appear as if it were the home of giants. Even the main gate was a height exceeding three stories. He approached the entrance and absently wondered how much the portcullis weighed. The dull, black bars were made of a thick metal. Like most structures in the city, the walls and gate were remnants of the Makers and a time before recorded history. Who or what the Makers were remained unclear and was often a topic of debate.
Guards dressed in silver armor and blue capes stood beside the gate, ignoring Jace as he walked past them. They had seen him leave the city and had no reason to question his reentry. As Jace headed toward his room above the Blue Hen Tavern, he mentally tallied the items he needed to purchase before leaving the city. The trip would set him back a bit, but should he be successful, the contract would make him rich. And the gold would be deserved.
To earn it, he simply had to achieve the impossible.
From the top of the outer wall, Roddem Despaldi watched Landish poke around in the field outside the city. The thief did not remain for long before returning. However, it had become clear that the girl he pursued had left with the menagerie.
Despaldi turned toward Sergeant Quiam, the man in charge of the north gate. “What was the name of the man who ran the menagerie?”
“Stanlin, Captain. Stanlin Rhymes.”
“Rhymes…” Despaldi watched Landish cross the square and enter the street leading to his apartment.
If the thief pursued someone in the menagerie, he was about to leave the city. Despaldi must gather a squad and prepare to do the same. First, he needed to visit Thurvin, then he would appoint someone to cover for him while he was away.
9
Anxiety
Dressed in nothing but her shift, Narine Killarius paced while her mind raced. Having grown up as a princess, her outward demeanor often displayed cool confidence. Today was different. Today, she would be put to the test – a test of life and death.
An ocean breeze blew through the open window, the sun low in the west, reflecting a long tail of light across the bay. It would be dark soon. When the moon owned the sky, the Trial would begin.
Why do I worry? Master Wizardess Vidan says I am ready. Even Master Mebane tells me I am prepared.
“If you keep this up, you’ll wear tracks in the floor,” Adyn said from across the room.
Narine threw her hands up in dramatic fashion. “Excuse me if I’m a bit anxious. I’m about to risk my life. Some of us are affected by the idea of failure equating to death.”
“Life is full of risks.”
Shooting a glare at her bodyguard while still pacing, Narine retorted, “Easy for you to say. You’re not about to undergo the Trial.”
Adyn was reclining on the divan, her legs up and crossed at the ankles. She had her dagger out, using it to clean her nails. Her gaze was focused on the task, the blade sharp enough to do serious damage if it slipped, which would never happen. Not under her watch.
“Good thing, too, since I’m no wizard.”
With a huff, Narine stopped and put a hand on her hip, her voice rising as anger added to her anxiety. “Are you just going to pick your nails all night, or are you going to help me?”
Looking up, Adyn’s green eyes met Narine’s glare. Backing down was not in Adyn’s nature. Tall with cropped brown hair, Adyn was attractive, but Narine would describe her more as handsome than pretty, her athletic build giving others a hint of her skill.
“Forgive me, Your Highness. Whatever can I do to assist you?”
Narine closed her eyes for a long beat, attempting to calm the fluttering in her stomach. When she spoke next, the fire had left her voice. “Listen, Adyn. I’m sorry. I am just anxious. Unlike you, I don’t cross blades for a living.”
Adyn stood. “I don’t, either. I train so I can protect you should the need arise, but I hope to avoid such situations.”
“I hope that, as well.”
Narine’s thoughts shifted to her older siblings. All dead, save one. The risk of me joining them will increase should I survive the night. It’s ironic that surviving one trial will merely lead to another, the latter perhaps even more dangerous.
“Sunset is approaching. I should get dressed. Will you help me?”
Adyn grabbed Narine’s hand and looked her in the eye. “You know I am always here for you.”
Narine grit her teeth to fight back the threat of tears. She hugged Adyn, who often seemed more like a sister than a bodyguard. She was the one person with whom Narine could share her true self, not the person she pretended to be. “I’m blessed to have you.” A tear slid down Narine’s cheek.
Stop. Get your emotions under control, Narine.
She pulled back and spun on her heel, walking toward the wardrobe while quickly wiping her eyes dry. Crying will do you no good. You are no longer a spoiled little girl. You are about to become a master wizardess.
The dress Narine chose was a pale yellow, a suitable match for her long, blonde hair and olive complexion. Stepping into it, she pulled it up. The fit was tight over her hips, a problem she would not have encountered when she began at the University.
“Will you button me up?” she asked, turning her back to Adyn.
A tall, oval-shaped mirror hung on the wall beside the wardrobe, the young woman looking back drawing her attention.
Narine filled out her dress quite well, perhaps too well, certainly more than when she had first arrived at Tiadd eight years past. Her honey-colored hair was piled on top of her head, secured with clips to keep it in place. She had grown it out since leaving home and refused to braid it. Braids were for children, and the longer hair made her feel more like an adult.
I am an adult, she thought. But will my father treat me as one when I return? The blue eyes in the mirror had no answer to the question.
“There,” Adyn said, stepping away. “All finished.”
Narine spun around and smoothed her skirts. “How do I look?”
Adyn’s scrutinizing gaze swept Narine from head to toe. “Put a crown on your head and people might think you were a princess.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “I am a princess.”
Adyn grinned, her green eyes sparkling. “What a coincidence.”
The comment earned her an eye roll. Narine turned toward the window, the sun now a red ball of fire at the horizon. Nightfall was minutes away. The storm in her stomach returned, roiling the seas and tossing everything to chaos.
“We had better go.” Adyn walked toward the door.
Narine smiled at the image Adyn cut, striking and intimidating all at once. She loved Adyn and was proud to have her as a bodyguard. A curved sword was strapped to one of her hips, a curved dagger to the other. She wore a pale shirt covered by a brown leather jerkin, which matched the woman’s tight breeches. Her tunic was unbuttoned to the point of distraction, a common occurrence in the tropical weather during their stay on the island. Black boots reached her knees, with another dagger hidden in each boot. Narine was unsure how she managed to retrieve them when needed.
Pulling the door open, Adyn stepped out, her gaze flicking up and down the corridor. Narine waited until the bodyguard moved aside. A lifetime of living together had created a routine for each of them – Adyn forever wary, and Narine tolerating the caution. Still, Adyn meant much more to Narine than just a mere protector.
While Adyn was three years Narine’s elder and theoretically a servant, the bodyguard had always treated her as a peer. Sometimes that included setting Narine straight when she was being overly emotional, illogical, or just plain pigheaded. She was self-aware enough to admit her emotions sometimes gripped the helm and steered the ship – oftentimes toward stormy, troubled waters. While growing up, Narine had heard stories about her mother’s emotional tendencies, often just as wild and unruly. She longed to know her mother better, but those stories were all she had.
While Narine’s slippered feet made little noise, the heels of Adyn’s boots echoed off the corridor walls as they passed the neighboring apartments, the doors all closed. Many of the girls would be attending dinner at this hour. Not Narine. Food was the furthest thing from her mind. With her stomach roiling, she feared anything added to the churn would promptly be rejected.
They reached the lift, and Narine placed her hand on the control panel. She drew in her magic, filling her with a rush and tingle. A disk of white energy extended from her palm, forming a pattern she knew well. Unlike her father’s lift, this one could be triggered by anyone who knew a basic energy construct and possessed enough talent. Neither were things Narine lacked.
The gears above them whirled as the platform rose up the shaft at an easy pace. Even before it reached their level, Adyn jumped on, landing easily. Narine envied the other girl’s lithe, tall build and toned muscles. She knew Adyn’s rigorous training sculpted her fit figure, but she also knew she could never match it. In addition to her average height, Narine had always been awkward. Her lack of physical grace began when she was young and had never improved. Thinking back as far as she could recall, Adyn had always been able to throw, run, and jump as well as any boy her age. Even as an adult, Adyn remained exceptionally strong and skilled enough to make anyone think twice before challenging her.
When the platform stopped, Narine stepped on as gracefully as she could manage. Remember, you are a princess. The words sounded hollow in her head. More importantly, you have the knowledge and skill to pass the Trial. Her time as a student had repainted Narine’s own view of herself, obscuring the spoiled teen she had left behind in Fastella.
Visualizing a basic energy construct, Narine again opened herself to the source of magic and drew it in. It was glorious. Her skin began to glow, which was something Adyn or other ungifted would not be able to see but was painfully obvious to Narine. She placed her hand on the panel, applying her magic in the pattern of the construct, and the lift began to lower, eliciting a low hum.
The building where she and the other women lived was twelve stories tall. Her position in society placed her on the top floor with only two others, both princesses from other wizardoms. Other than Adyn, the two girls were the only students Narine considered friends. Pass or survive the Trial, she would miss Freilla and Sariza, for her time at the University was coming to an end.
Other floors slipped past, each housing girls whose status was lower than those above. The lower floors were divided into many rooms, each far smaller than the suite Narine shared with Adyn.
The buzz of conversation arose above the hum of the lift, the noise reaching a crescendo as they passed the second floor where the dining hall was located. The chatter then faded as they continued toward the main floor.
The platform stopped, and they both stepped off to enter the spacious receiving hall. Tall pillars lined the room, providing a slight sense of separation from the lounges to each side. Similar to the rest of the building, the pillars were carved from rock, square in shape, and consisted of green, orange, and white striations. Narine had examined those pillars numerous times since her arrival. Like every other structure in the University, there were no seams to it. Rather, it was as if the entire building had been carved from a single block of stone.
I
wish we understood the Makers better than we do.
The arched doorway of the main entrance stood open, which was typical outside of hurricane season. It had been weeks since the last tempest, the season waning with the passing of summer weather. During those storms, the doors remained closed, the windows covered, the entire University shut down, as if it were under siege.
Narine and Adyn stepped out of the building, descended a short flight of stairs, and crossed the University commons. Varied hues of gray, green, and orange swirls and splotches marked the surface of the rocky plateau. Even in the failing light, it was a sight to behold. Narine recalled her first glimpse of the University – the beauty, the mystery, the breathtaking majesty, even for someone who had lived in a palace.
The entire complex had been carved out of the side of a mountain, an impressive feat by any measure. The University was a place of legend. A place where those who could wield magic honed their abilities. A place where those with talent entered, but only those who had mastered all six major constructs emerged. Similar to the great cities, the University was crafted by Makers many centuries ago. The city hugging the bay below the plateau was another story.
Rather than being subject to the rule of a single wizard lord, Tiadd City was controlled by the University itself. It had been built for the sole purpose of supporting the instructors and students living at the University.
One thousand, two hundred and sixty-four steps, Narine thought.
During one of her visits to Tiadd City, she had counted the stairs leading from the city streets to the University. She had learned the hard way to limit purchases made in the city. Lugging an armload of goods up those steps was a test she did not long to retake. Adyn had only made the trip worse, refusing to help, complaining about Narine’s repeated need to stop and rest. Despite Narine’s frustration with Adyn at the time, recalling the memory now brought a smile to her face. The grin faded when the specter of the Trial pushed the memory aside.
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