Serpent's Mark (Snakesblood Saga Book 1)

by Beth Alvarez

Relythes stroked his beard with one calloused hand. “The temple is on Eldani lands.”

  “Only until you push your borders forward. Or do you forget the southern lands were only held by the Eldani as a result of the temple’s location?” Alira’s question brought a heavy silence. Even those seated nearby stilled their revelry.

  Kytenia clutched her skirts in both hands and stared down at the table so she wouldn’t have to look at Alira. How could she speak of such things? Alira was Master of a House of affinity and deserved respect, but the casual way she spoke of betraying King Kifel made bile rise in the back of Kytenia’s throat. She squirmed as she gulped against it.

  The movement didn’t go unnoticed. Relythes nodded in her direction. “You’re not the first mage I’ve dealt with who has brought an envoy, but they don’t speak. Why is that? Are they students? They aren’t in uniform. Tell me, girl,” he said, his gaze sharpening as it shifted to Rikka, “what purpose does your presence here serve?”

  Rikka gave Alira a fleeting glance. The Master’s face never changed. “Mages do not travel alone, Majesty,” Rikka said. “We accomplish more in groups.”

  Relythes turned his eyes to Kytenia. Her stomach knotted and she was sure she looked like a startled mouse. She couldn’t find her voice, so she nodded in agreement instead.

  Seemingly satisfied, the king returned his attention to Alira. “I expect a benefit immediately.” He lifted his goblet to swirl its contents once more. “Full chapter houses of mages stationed in every major city, instead of the skeleton crews present now. An embassy here in Alwhen and a meeting with the Archmage to discuss the possibility of relocating, rather than rebuilding. I will send an ambassador to the temple to meet with her. I shall, of course, give you time to discuss the merits of relocation amongst yourselves before expecting my ambassador’s return.”

  “A most gracious consideration, my lord,” Alira murmured.

  He ignored her shift in tone. “I trust you wish to return with my response as soon as possible?”

  Alira shrugged and smoothed the front of her robes. “A rest overnight would be well met, as well as new mounts to relieve our own.”

  “So shall it be,” Relythes agreed. He raised both hands overhead and clapped twice to summon servants. They came with trays of food and flasks of wine, replenishing what stocked the table already, laying heaping platters before the king and his guests. Alira appeared to relax, accepting a goblet and drinking from it as a servant filled her plate.

  Kytenia gave Rikka a tiny, knowing frown. Beneath the table, her friend patted her hand. They had to let Kifel know what they’d heard, but just how was a mageling supposed to carry warning to a king?

  Timbers and ash filled the storerooms, all that remained of the collapsed roof. Firal shared Master Nondar’s disappointment at how much had been lost.

  Most of the temple’s medical supplies were destroyed. A great deal of healing could be done with magic alone but, like all magelings with a healing affinity, she knew the virtues of using herbal remedies. Too much dependence on magical healing could weaken the body. Too many weak bodies could weaken an entire country. It made sense to reserve use of magic for the most severe illnesses and injuries. It didn’t harm anyone to have a case of sniffles or sneezes from time to time, and it was best to let the body work on its own to fight what it could. Symptoms could be eased with tinctures or teas.

  Firal brushed grit from another bottle and her brow furrowed as she tried to make out its label. Most of Nondar’s students had been set to work in the storerooms after the wreckage of the roofing was removed, but Nondar had assigned her to the ruins of the infirmary. She’d spent most of the morning alone, rooting through the mess of broken shelving and shattered glass to find what could be salvaged. As disheartening as it was to see the damage, she found some comfort in working with the familiar supplies. She’d never devoted much thought to what might come after her studies, but sitting among Nondar’s supplies—even in the wreckage—she found herself more at home than she ever recalled. With the rest of her hopes shattered, knowing she still had a place among the medicine bottles gave her peace. No matter what came in the days ahead, at least she had that.

  “The temple’s not as big as I expected, but I didn’t see you at all yesterday.”

  Firal jumped. The bottle in her hand slipped and she clamped both hands around it, unwilling to let anything else be wasted. She twisted where she sat and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Vahn behind her. The temple was full of strange men and she was alone. Had it been anyone else, she wouldn’t have been comfortable, but she considered Vahn a friendly face. “Ran’s not here.”

  “I wasn’t looking for him.” Vahn ducked under the half-fallen shelf that obscured the doorway. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “Perhaps you shouldn’t sneak up on me, then.” Firal added the bottle to the collection in a box beside her and checked the floor. Everything she’d found had been packed, so she stood and dusted her knees. The Masters had recovered several crates of clothing from the half-ruined storerooms. She’d been fortunate to find a green mageling’s robe that was only a little big on her frame. On the other hand, she hadn’t been fortunate enough to find sandals to replace what she’d left in the palace. Her silk slippers from the palace were made for dancing, not work, and the thin soles offered little protection. She turned in place, mindful of the broken glass scattered on the floor.

  Vahn glanced about as he stepped into the storeroom. “Do you need any help in here? We’ve been sent to help the magelings clean. Most of the large rubble has been cleared out, so there aren’t many tasks left that require brute strength.” He reached for a handful of vials still standing on a shelf and his brow furrowed as he read the labels.

  Firal snorted a laugh. His lithe frame made it seem unlikely he’d been chosen for anything requiring brute strength. “I appreciate the offer, but I can manage this on my own.” She took a wide step to a clear space on the floor and plucked the vials out of his hands to inspect their seals. “Convenient that you’d end up wherever I am. Or were you hoping to find Kytenia in here?”

  A hint of color rose in his cheeks. “I’m just trying to help,” Vahn protested. “And trying to find something to do. You have no idea how boring it is here.” He cringed as soon as the words were out of his mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just want to help. I thought it would be better for me to work with someone I’d met before.”

  She tip-toed back to her box and knelt beside it to put the vials away. “I’ve met you, yes, but I can’t say how proper it is for you to be sitting alone in a room with a girl you don’t really know.”

  “Should I invite you to get to know me, then?”

  Firal gave him a solemn look. “You’re awfully forward, aren’t you?”

  “All right, then, let me start over, since I’ve clearly gotten off on the wrong foot with you.” Vahn brushed dirt from his palms and swept into a bow. “I greatly appreciated your company during the ball, my lady. I would be grateful for the chance to become better acquainted with you, as you are a friend of a dear friend and we spent so little time together during the festivities.”

  Firal rose just enough to offer a curtsy. “If it would please my lord, you are still too forward in your advances.”

  The look of frustration that crossed his face almost made her smile.

  “However,” she continued, “I am not opposed to the idea of your company during the noon meal. That is, if you are hungry, and don’t mind the presence of my friends?”

  Vahn grinned. “Lunch, my lady, sounds like an excellent idea. I would welcome the opportunity to get to know some of the other mages here. Maybe then they wouldn’t look at me like a weasel in a henhouse.”

  Choking back a laugh, she gestured toward the charred doorframe. “Lead the way, then. Has the dining hall been cleaned? I don’t even know where meals are being served.” She lifted her skirt just above her ankles and hopped over the grime and gl
ass on tip-toe. Vahn offered his arm. She waved him away, stepping out into the courtyard with a swish of her soot-stained robes.

  He studied the courtyard as they walked. “You know, from what I’d heard about the temple, I’d expected it would be more like its own city.”

  “It’d be nice if it was,” Firal sighed. “There’s a market a few miles away, sort of a trading outpost between Wethertree and the farms out this direction. But there’s not much as far as real civilization goes.”

  “Why put the temple in the middle of nowhere?” He motioned for her to enter the dining hall first and she slipped in with a nod of thanks. The doors and roof were gone, but most of the tables had been salvaged with little more than the occasional scorch mark.

  Firal scanned the room for her friends, but didn’t see them in the crowd. She sank into a seat and Vahn settled across the table from her. “It’s a matter of privacy, mostly,” she said. “Learning magecraft requires a lot of focus and concentration, so they removed as many distractions as possible.”

  “But right on the edge of those ruins?” Vahn shuddered and leaned back so a woman could place a tray of food before him. “I wouldn’t want to be that close to them. They give me chills.”

  “I like them, personally. I think the ruins are lovely.” Firal murmured a thank-you to the maid.

  “The royal gardens are lovely. I’m not sure I’d put the ruins in the same category.” Vahn waited to pick up his fork until she spread her napkin on her lap.

  She raised a brow. “How gentlemanly of you. Are you certain you’re friends with Ran?”

  Vahn laughed. “That’s unfair. Ran’s stubborn, not uncouth.” He shoveled a forkful of food into his mouth. “And yes, I’m certain. I’ve known him since we were children.”

  “So you grew up at the palace together?” She picked at the fish on her plate. When resources were scarce, the island relied more heavily on the sea. With the temple burned, she expected they would eat little else for some time.

  “Yes. My family was relocated to the palace grounds when my father became Captain of the Ilmenhith Royal Guard. I met Ran in the gardens and we became friends right away. I didn’t know then that he was the king’s son.” He smiled nervously and Firal was relieved to see her own uncertainty mirrored in his expression. Crowned or not, Ran was still a part of the royal family. The idea still seemed absurd.

  Vahn speared more food with his fork. “King Kifelethelas is kind, though. He didn’t mind his son playing with the child of someone so much lower in rank.”

  Firal made a sour face. “His Majesty’s views of who belongs in the palace do seem to be rather liberal.”

  “You speak with a note of contempt.” He sounded surprised, but his face expressed curiosity. “There are not many who think ill of the king for reasons other than rumors surrounding his heritage.”

  “He cannot help who his parents were,” she replied dryly. “I’m just not certain I appreciate the way he views my relationship with Ran.”

  Vahn leaned back in his chair. “Relationship?”

  That had been the wrong word. Firal winced and allowed herself a few bites of food before she spoke again. “I consider him a friend. Nothing else. I think the king may...assume there’s something more.” She couldn’t fathom why else he would have bought her a dress and provided jewels for her to wear. Men did not give priceless gems to their son’s friends.

  Vahn did not reply immediately and when she looked up, he frowned with thought.

  “Is it really that concerning?” she teased.

  “No,” he replied with a small chuckle. “Just gauging my chances, that’s all.”

  She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

  Vahn flashed her a grin and pushed himself up, offering a wink that set her cheeks on fire before he took his leave.

  Biting her lower lip, Firal stared down at the table and the empty plate he left behind.

  Green robes swirled to a stop at the edge of Firal’s vision. “What was that all about?” Shymin asked.

  Firal fought back a groan. Of course someone had seen. Why would she have a single moment to herself? “You’re just a moment too late.” She buried her face in her hands and breathed deeply as she willed the color to fade from her cheeks.

  “Oh, not too late. I heard a bit of that.” Shymin grinned as she seated herself and leaned across the table to take a roll from Firal’s plate. “He is a bit of a flirt, isn’t he? Sounds like we might want to introduce that one to Rikka.”

  Firal laughed, but regained her senses enough to give her head a shake. “Lifetree’s mercy, we’d be attending a wedding before the week was out. No matter. His charms won’t work on me. He was just as interested in Kytenia when the two of them danced at the ball.”

  “And what did Kytenia think of him?” Shymin raised a brow.

  “Who could say? Either way, it’s probably best if her attentions are turned away from Ran. Fraternization with a Master could get her in trouble.” Firal’s voice softened as she spoke and she gave her friend a meaningful look.

  Shymin nodded solemnly and turned her attention to the meal a maid left before her.

  Knowledge of Ran’s family burned on the tip of Firal’s tongue, but she swallowed it back. If nothing else, at least she could speak of him wearing the white.

  21

  Jealousy

  “So what exactly is the king’s interest in things between you and Firal?”

  Ran glanced up from the half-burned papers and books on the desk in front of him. Vahn leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded over his chest, his posture a shade too casual to be natural. Ran managed to keep from frowning at the question. He stuffed a few legible papers into a book worth keeping. “I couldn’t tell you. Sending you off to fish for information, is she?”

  “No, she’s not.” Vahn’s gaze drifted the room. Most of the rubble had been removed, but old notes still covered the floor. The scattered papers were all that remained to show the room had been a Master’s office.

  “Why the interest, then?” Ran draped an arm over the back of the chair, stretching his legs and righting his robes. Though he preferred his custom-fitted robe, he’d changed to something from the temple storerooms for cleaning. Stained with soot and ash until it was more gray than white, the too-small robe looked ridiculous on him. He could have had something longer, but knee-length seemed more practical, even if the sleeves were short. Floor-length robes would have been a hindrance.

  “I just wanted to know,” Vahn said. “Curiosity. Trying to determine what’s worth investing myself in.”

  Ran gave him an incredulous look. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  Vahn sighed. His arms shifted tighter across his chest as he glanced over his shoulder. The courtyard behind him was empty. “Look, I’m trying to give you a chance to speak up. I don’t want to turn my attention in a direction it might not be appreciated. You’ve known her longer than I have, and I don’t know what your father’s intentions are. If he’s trying to groom her on your behalf, just say so.”

  Ran snorted as he pushed himself up and shoved his chair into place against the desk. “If I knew anything about his interests and intentions, do you think I’d be sitting here, sorting through garbage and waiting for a public coronation?”

  “I’m being as straightforward as I can,” Vahn said.

  “And I think you’re being hasty! Just because something has a skirt doesn’t mean you should chase it.” Ran scowled, raking fingers through his hair and tugging at his too-short sleeves. “Besides, you’ve only just met her! What, you think she’ll be swooning for you after one dance together in Ilmenhith?”

  Vahn held up his hands. “That’s not what I mean! I didn’t say she would.” His shoulders stiffened, but he sounded calm. “There are a lot of interesting young women in the temple and I have my eye on a few I’d like to see again, but you were here first. You could have any girl you wanted falling at your feet. If she’s the one you want, just say so.” />
  Ran’s closed the distance between them with slow strides. His eyes narrowed. “Firal isn’t going to throw herself at anyone’s feet, and if you were wise, you’d choose your words about her carefully.”

  Vahn stared back, lifting his chin. There was a gleam in his eyes; not quite a challenge, but a look of determination Ran had seen too many times before. “There are several girls here who are interested in you, but if you aren’t going to make a move, there’s no reason I shouldn’t.”

  “Interested in me?” Ran almost choked, his face twisting with disbelief. “Blight it all! You should know better than anyone else—”

  “Are you pursuing her or not?” Vahn interrupted, stepping closer. “You’re not going to cow me over something when you won’t even give me a straight answer about it!”

  “It’s not like that!” Ran snapped.

  “It’s fairly obvious it is something like that, and neither one of you seems to be aware you are yelling.” Nondar’s voice from the doorway made both of them start. Ran recoiled, set his jaw and turned back to the books on the desk.

  “I apologize, Master.” Vahn bowed, though he gave Ran a dark look out of the corner of his eye. “I wasn’t aware there was anyone in this part of the temple to overhear us.”

  The old mage shook his head and leaned on his cane. “For as loud as the two of you were getting, it was more than just overhearing. I never would have imagined I’d find the two of you bickering like schoolboys over some girl.”

  “She’s not just some girl,” Ran said sourly.

  Nondar raised one thick eyebrow.

  “It was nothing, Master,” Vahn muttered.

  “I don’t care what it was, it’s over now. As for you,” Nondar turned and leveled a knobby finger at Vahn’s face, “you should not be meddling where mages are trying to work. Rejoin the rest of the soldiers and make yourself useful.”

  “But—” Vahn began. The old Master’s gaze hardened. Vahn shut his mouth and bowed again. “As you wish.” He gave Ran one more glance before he left.