by K. A. Linde
“How are you feeling?” Valia asked.
“Sore,” Kerrigan admitted.
“Let me help you sit up.” She eased Kerrigan into a sitting position.
She blinked a few times to right her vision. She realized she was in an unfamiliar bedchamber. “Where am I?”
“Training quarters,” Valia said. “Your things were moved from the House of Dragons while you were gone, and Helly had you brought here for treatment.”
“Treatment?”
“You don’t remember?”
Kerrigan shook her head.
“That’s okay. She said that might be the case. I’ll let Helly explain. Try to drink some more water.”
“Okay.”
Valia disappeared, and another figure filled the doorway. Fordham looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Black bruises pushed against the skin under his bloodshot eyes. He was in days-old clothes, and his black hair was messy, as if he had perpetually run his hands through it.
“You made it.”
“Hey,” she muttered, taking another drink. “What happened?”
“You don’t remember?”
Kerrigan shook her head. He sank into Valia’s unoccupied seat. “You tried to take the wall down, started screaming, and blacked out. I had Netta pick us up. We met Tieran and flew straight home.”
“Oh,” she said, fuzzy memories surfacing. “Did it work?”
He shot her a grim look. “It didn’t take the wall down, but it did create a break. Wynter could get her arm through it.”
“Gods,” she whispered. “I can’t believe I did that.”
“How did you do it?”
Kerrigan shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think that I did.”
Fordham frowned. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.” She closed her eyes, wishing that she could explain it. Because now that she was thinking about it, the sensation of what had happened on that balcony all rushed back in. The way the magic had sensed her and then dropped belly deep into her magic, as if it was a life force. Then, the strange vision. She didn’t know if she should even mention that. Mei and Trulian and how she had decided to seal the monsters inside the mountain to save the world. It was just as the stories described it. Except it was one spiritcaster and not thirteen of the best magic users of the time. One girl had created that.
Could Kerrigan do something like that too?
“What are you doing to my patient?” Helly snapped, jarring them both.
“I was checking on her,” Fordham said.
“Out with you. You can see her when I’m finished. It’s the middle of the night. You should get rest.”
Fordham shot her a hollow look. As if he hadn’t slept since they flew away. But it had been the middle of the night when they left, and it was a three- or four-hour flight. It should have been at least dawn.
“What time is it?”
Helly frowned. “You have been asleep for a full day.”
“What?” she gasped. “But that means …”
“Training starts tomorrow,” Fordham said.
“Yes,” Helly said, shooing him toward the door. Fordham looked like he wanted to argue, but eventually relented. “Your training begins tomorrow, but I can give you a medical exemption.”
“No,” Kerrigan said automatically.
“Why am I not surprised you don’t want one?”
“I wasn’t in the tournament until the very end. I can’t miss the first day of training as well. No one will take me seriously.”
“You’re in no shape, but if you drink this draught and sleep the rest of the evening, you might be ready. Or at least, you won’t pass out halfway through the day.” Helly passed her the drink. “I hope.”
Kerrigan took a tentative sniff of the mug and gagged at the smell. “What is this?”
“Just drink it,” Helly admonished.
Kerrigan held her breath and then downed the thick, viscous substance in one go. She choked on it but held the stuff down.
“That should speed you up. I did what I could without Fordham telling me what had happened to you. I treated you as if you’d had a vision.” Helly arched an eyebrow. “Is that what happened?”
It was easier than the truth. How could she even begin to explain what had happened in that mountain?
“Yes,” Kerrigan said, sinking back down into the covers.
“What did you see?”
“I don’t know.” Kerrigan sighed and closed her eyes. “It was a woman and a man that I didn’t recognize. They were together, and the woman did some kind of light magic.”
Helly pursed her lips. “I have no idea what that means. You recognized neither of them?”
“No.”
Lie. She knew exactly who they were and what they had done. But a part of her couldn’t confide in Helly what she had almost done. What would Helly think to know that she had tried to take the wall down? What would she think if she knew it was even possible?
“Well, it always reveals itself eventually,” Helly said. She patted Kerrigan’s knee. “Get some rest. We will discuss what happened in the House of Shadows after that.”
“We will?”
“Of course. You’re the first person to enter their grounds with an inside source to their court in a thousand years. We need to know everything that happened, everything you heard.”
Kerrigan looked at her, aghast. “I’m not a spy.”
Helly shot her a pitying look. “Your allegiance lies with us. Society first, tribe second. This is what that means.”
“Did you ask Fordham?”
“Yes. He was quite forward with information, if I’m honest. I don’t know why you would want to withhold anything that happened. He made it seem rather mundane. Border disputes, treaty issues, trade issues.” She waved her hand. “Anything is helpful.”
Kerrigan nodded. Right. Anything but the truth of what they had almost done there.
“Okay. Yeah. We can talk.”
Helly nodded, rising to her feet. “Now, sleep. You have a big day tomorrow.”
Kerrigan smiled halfheartedly. “Helly, did you ever find Basem’s killer?”
“No,” she said faintly. “We’re still working on it. Don’t worry yourself. Your number one priority is training.”
“Of course,” she said and watched Helly leave. Such a nonanswer and not at all satisfying.
It was only a few minutes before Fordham was at her side again.
“You didn’t tell her?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. How would I even begin?”
He nodded, understanding. The way everyone thought of the House of Shadows was already so set in stone. The monsters that Mei had claimed they were all those years ago.
“You can see my dilemma when I first arrived.”
“Clearly.”
“What actually happened when you blacked out, Kerrigan?” Fordham asked.
She debated on not telling him, but she could keep nothing from Fordham. Not when he had been there. Not when he’d saved her. Their relationship was complicated, but this bond was as true as it had ever been.
“I saw the wall go up.”
Fordham blinked, as if that wasn’t the answer he’d expected. “During the Great War?”
“Yes. And it’s not what you think. It was someone like me who put it up to protect the Society.”
He rocked back in the chair. “So, it is true. We were always the monsters they painted us as.”
“I don’t know. She believed it. Her name was Mei, M-e-i, and she had a soldier with her, Trulian.”
“I’ve never heard of a Mei.”
“Me neither.”
“But Trulian is a common enough name,” he said.
“It is. At least it gives us a place to start.”
“To start?”
She smiled at him with the last bit of strength as the medicine pulled her toward slumber. “I have an idea.”
“Gods help us all,” he said, but he was smilin
g.
“If we find out who they were and how she did it, then maybe I can figure out how to take it down without killing myself.”
“You still want to do it?” he asked in shock.
“Benton and Bayton are still trapped. Your cousins are still trapped. Whatever her reasons for doing it, they do not deserve to be punished for a thousand-year-old war.”
“And how are we going to do this when training starts tomorrow?”
But he wasn’t disagreeing with her. He could see the merit. He’d wanted out of there for who knew how long. How could he deny the rest of his people? Even if they could both see the consequences.
“As we do the best things—together.”
15
The Training
Kerrigan stumbled into the training facility behind the other four winners of the dragon tournament. The four people, who together, they would dedicate their lives to the Society.
She’d found black Society robes waiting in her room when she woke from her magically induced slumber with a note that read, Training robes. They weren’t the lush, almost-glossy robes, but a rough spun cotton. She’d slid them over her training clothes with a little thrill of delight anyway. Her entire life, she’d been surrounded by people in black robes with the dragon insignia on them, and now, they belonged to her.
Whatever medicine Helly had given her had worked wonders, but she still felt depleted. Her magic wasn’t a hundred percent recovered. Her body still ached. And even though she’d slept for more than a day, she was still tired. But she couldn’t be today.
“You made it!” Audria Ather cried, throwing her arms around Kerrigan.
Audria Ather, Third of the House of Drame in the line of Bryonica, had been one of Kerrigan’s friends when they were children. They’d played together before Kerrigan’s father sent her away to the House of Dragons. It was Audria who had realized that she was Princess Felicity and offered for her family to sponsor Kerrigan. She’d wanted them to be like sisters again. Fordham had given her an alternative—join him in the House of Shadows—and Kerrigan had taken it. Anything to not have to return to the Bryonican life that had been taken from her.
Audria wasn’t all bad. They were even friends. Even though she’d revealed Kerrigan’s identity to the entire court. Kerrigan still hadn’t come to terms with everyone knowing that she was Kerrigan Felicity Argon, once First of the House of Cruse, and her father, the great Kivrin Argon. She’d hidden it for so long that it didn’t even seem possible.
“I made it,” Kerrigan said, hugging her back.
“Oh my goodness, you look like the House of Shadows chewed you up and spit you out,” she said with a giggle.
Not far off.
Kerrigan laughed, releasing her. “How was your break?”
“Excellent! You know that the Season is starting now that the tournament is over. You’ll have to come to the parties with me since I can finally tell everyone you’re Felicity.”
Kerrigan grimaced. “You couldn’t drag me to a Season event.”
“You wouldn’t be fit for one anyway,” Roake said with distaste.
Roake Brevard was from the south in Elsiande. Traditionally, those from the south believed that magic should be used for nothing, but the younger generation was pushing back on that notion. Roake was the leader of that faction and had won the tournament to prove his point. He was also obsessed with Audria and made his distaste for Kerrigan clear.
“She would too fit,” Audria said. “Don’t be mean, Roake.”
He looked at her with pure devotion. “Of course. I wouldn’t think they’d let half-Fae participate.”
“We’re not prejudiced!” Audria insisted.
But of course, the louder and more often she said it, the more Kerrigan cringed. If they weren’t prejudiced, she wouldn’t have to announce it. It would be obvious.
“What’s the Season?” Fordham asked as he and Noda, the winner from Concha, joined them.
“It’s a mating ritual,” Noda said dryly, adjusting her teal headscarf.
Audria gasped, covering her mouth. “It is not!”
Roake tried not to laugh. “It’s an aristocratic courting system.”
“The young ladies are presented to society, and then there are parties in each season to help them get to know the gentlemen,” Audria explained. “At the end of the year, weddings are announced for those who courted the whole season.”
“And weddings throughout for those who end up pregnant at each season event,” Noda added.
Audria’s cheeks turned pink.
Roake nodded. “It happens.”
“But the best part is that the events take place at different palaces all over the continent,” Audria said. “But it all starts in the summer here, on the Row!”
A throat cleared at the front of the room. “Trainees, are you here for the Season events or Society training?”
She was tall and lithe with onyx skin. Her textured hair was braided back off of her face in a protective style that accentuated her high cheekbones and hard eyes. The many braids were pulled into a high, tight bun. Her clothing was fitted black pants and a tunic with overlapping silver metal coins over top. It was the traditional garb of the Venatrix war tribe. It looked heavy, and yet she wore it with such grace. The black Society robes hung comfortably loose on her shoulders.
Hastily, the five riders bolted into a straight line and muttered an apology.
“I am Alura Van Horn,” she barked. “And you will address me as Mistress Alura or, preferably, sir. So, let’s try this again. Are you here for Society training?”
“Yes, sir,” was barked from all five of them at once.
She grinned at them, showing off the bright whiteness of her teeth. “Better.”
Alura paced in front of the five winners. She didn’t seem impressed by what she found there. Kerrigan was intimidated. Five years ago, three dragons had been up for grabs in the tournament. Alura had won along with Cyrene and Dean, who had both disappeared with their dragons, back to a world in more danger than this one. Which left Alura as the only competitor in her class. And arguably the most talented.
“Society training is not like anything else you have ever experienced before,” she said plainly. “You’d be shocked to learn the dropout rate is thirty percent. A full third of all winners can’t hack it.”
Kerrigan’s jaw dropped. Dropout rate? She’d never heard of anyone dropping out of the program. It must have been the most humiliating experience of a person’s life to win the tournament and not survive the next year. She wanted to ask what happened to the dragons. Bonding was for a lifetime.
“Look to the person on your right and left.” Kerrigan looked to Fordham and then Noda. “One of you won’t make it.”
Kerrigan gulped. That wouldn’t be her. It couldn’t be. She didn’t have anywhere else to go.
“I say this as someone who went through this training alone for the first time in Society history: we will not go easy on you.” She bared her teeth at them. “We are preparing you for the most important job in all of Alandria. You cannot just be good. You must be the best. Because the moment you put those robes on, you are more than yourself. You represent all of us. You are the Society.”
Kerrigan shivered at the words. Wasn’t it exactly what she’d thought that day in the tavern when she was in a fight? She couldn’t do that anymore. Even provoked, it would look wrong. She had to be better. Which begged the question, which Society member had turned traitor to kill Basem Nix?
“As I was the last person to go through training, I am set to manage your training.”
Roake groaned. Alura’s eyes snapped to him.
“Do you have a problem with that, Brevard?”
“No, sir,” he chirped.
“I thought not,” Alura snarled. “Everything that I endured over my year of training will be carefully honed to make you five representatives of the Society.” She curled her lip. Her eyes going flat. “I have my work cut out for me.”
Audria’s hand shot up in the air.
Alura glared at her. “I didn’t open for questions, Ather. Keep your hand to yourself.”
Audria slowly pulled her hand back down. Her cheeks were pink. She looked like she’d never been spoken to like that by anyone before. Likely she hadn’t.
“I’ve structured training thus. You’ll begin with a thirty-day bootcamp that includes morning workouts with me,” she said, pacing back and forth in front of them. “And weapons training with masters who have graciously offered their assistance. You’ll have an hour for lunch and then magic training each afternoon. Each day will feature a separate element—air, water, earth, and fire. Friday afternoons will be open for self-guided training.”
Which meant working on the things that they were the worst at. Kerrigan had learned that in the House of Dragons, nothing was really free time.
“After the first month, if I determine that you are all sufficient enough, we’ll move into training with your dragons. As well as a full slot of classes to prepare you to take your place as a government official in Alandria. The three main areas will be: government, philosophy, and history. Everyone takes one elective: maths, literature, or languages.”
Roake scoffed.
Alura arched an eyebrow. “Have something to say, Brevard?”
“No, sir.”
“Spit it out. You know you want to,” she said lethally.
It was not an invitation. Though he took it as one.
“You expect us to take four classes and train with our dragon? When will we have the time, sir?”
“No,” she said with a smile that said this would be unpleasant. “I want you to take four classes, train with your dragon, weapons, and magic, and keep up your workouts.”
“All at once?” he gasped.
“One in three dropout rate,” she reminded him, and he snapped his mouth shut.
Alura stared at them, as if waiting for someone else to talk out of turn. But none of them said anything. She could have heard a pin drop, as they’d all stopped breathing under her scrutiny. The next year was going to be plain torture.
“At the end of your year training, if you make it,” she taunted, “you will earn the title of Master or Mistress. Only then can you turn in your training robes for full Society robes.” She caressed her own robe around her dark shoulders. “Only then can you join our ranks. So, let’s begin.”