She remembered.
In the dream, she sat next to the hearth, the warm crackling flames pressing upon her back; there was an energy to them that reminded her now of the power of the dragon stone ring, but at the time, the flames simply provided comfort. She leaned forward, moving the small stones across the game board, and hazarded a glance up to her brother, finding him smiling at her.
Jonathan was a few years older than her, always quick with a smile and a clever quip, eager to show her just how little she knew. She’d always looked up to her big brother, so it was easy for her to let him prove just what he could do. Not that she ever minded. Mostly because he always smiled as he did it, always teased her just a little bit, so that she found it endearing more than anything else.
“You can’t play it that way,” Jonathan said, moving the stone. “You have to plan. Anticipate.” He leaned over the small board, a square of lacquered wood, carefully painted by Jonathan and decorated with his own embellishments. He had asked their parents for a board for a long time, but their father had never been willing to make one, nor had he been willing to buy one from Master Tanner, the local craftsman in their section of the city. Jonathan had taken it upon himself to create something of his own, and she thought it was better than anything that could have been bought anyway. It might not be as neatly painted as Master Tanner would have made it, but the decorations on each square were far nicer, even if the colors weren’t quite as bright and vibrant.
“Look at what I do here. You see how I place my stones around the board? It’s all about the placement. I can see the way you intend to move, and know what you might do with your next move, or the one after—and when you get really good, even the one after that. I can start to plan on how to maneuver so that I position my pieces to block what you do with this move, and what you do with the next one as well.”
Jonathan leaned back, taking a pinch of the bread resting next to him and stuffing it into his mouth. Their mother hated it when he sat near the hearth and ate, but she fell prey to Jonathan’s charms, just like everyone else.
He had on his favorite deep blue jacket, though it was a bit more faded today than it had been before. The elbows were patched, though Jayna had never learned why he had needed to patch them. He’d had the jacket for quite a while, and was finally filling it out in a way that made him look like the young man he was starting to become.
“I can’t think that far ahead,” she muttered.
Jonathan just chuckled. “You choose not to think that far ahead. It’s not that you can’t. You can learn to do it, silly pants. If I can, you can.”
Jayna looked at the board, realizing that if she were to make the next move like she had planned, she was going to get trapped. Her brother had already held her in place. He was only telling her after the fact that he had done so.
It figured that Jonathan wouldn’t want to lose. He never enjoyed losing.
For that matter, Jayna hated losing too.
The game was relatively simple. You had to get all your pieces on the other side of the board without your opponent trapping and holding them, removing them from the game board while you played. She’d never beaten her brother, though that wasn’t for lack of trying.
“You can because you play more.”
“Exactly. I play more. The more you play and practice, the better you’re going to get at the game. That involves anticipating the different moves that might be made.” Jonathan smiled and leaned back, running a hand through his long, wavy black hair. “You can learn this just the same as I can. Probably better. You’re starting earlier than me.”
Jayna looked down at the board. She wasn’t sure she could learn quite as well as her brother. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t try. She was competitive, the same as him, and she didn’t like losing, even if it was to Jonathan.
“Do you have any tricks?”
He winked at her. “If I did, would I share them with you?”
“You would if you cared about your sister.”
He chuckled. “I care about my sister. I also know she doesn’t always take the time to put the work in that she needs to.”
“Hey!”
He shrugged. “You can be better than me, Jayna. I know you can. You just have to put the work in. Don’t take the easy way out. When it comes to this game, figure out what the rules are, and figure out how you can work within them.”
“What if I work outside of the rules?”
“That’s cheating.”
She stared at the board and realized something.
“Cheating, is it?”
He nodded. “That’s right. I wouldn’t want you to cheat while playing. There’s no point in doing that. Not when you can win the right way.”
She shuffled one of his stones off the side. It was the one nearest to her, close to where she had finished her last turn. In order for her brother to have positioned that stone where it was, he would’ve needed to have taken two turns in a row. The two stones were side by side, in a place where she would have seen it if he were to have made that move.
“Who’s the one cheating now?”
“What was that?”
She tapped on the board. “Look at this, Jonathan. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”
He leaned toward the board, examining it with mock seriousness. “I don’t see what you’re going on about.”
“You don’t, do you? You mean this stone that was played right next to mine?”
“Like I said. I don’t know what you are going on about.” He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, practically daring her to challenge him.
“Is that Father?” Jayna asked.
Jonathan turned toward the door, and Jayna hurriedly moved several pieces into place, surrounding his. As soon as she was done, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, taking some of the heat off of her back from where the hearth crackled behind her, studying the board.
“That’s not Father,” Jonathan said. “He’s been gone all day though. He should be back at any point.” He turned back to look at her, studying her before turning his attention to the board. “The next thing you need to learn,” Jonathan started, reaching toward the board, shifting the pieces she had just moved, “is that if you do cheat, you do need to make sure either your opponent doesn’t notice, or they notice too late to be able to do anything. It’s bad enough getting caught in the act, but it’s equally bad if you get caught before you can get away.” He slid the pieces back to where they had been before, then waited until she looked up at him. “A smaller move is often best. You have to use simple techniques. Strategies that will give you the advantage, but won’t be noticed quite as easily.”
“Now you’re trying to teach me how to cheat?”
“I’m trying to teach you how to play the game, but seeing as how you’re more interested in moving your stones around without following the rules, I might as well give you a little advice on other ways of playing. Anyway.”
He made his move, sliding one of his stones across the board. She couldn’t do anything now. It was a definitive move—worse, she didn’t know if he had cheated while playing her, or if he was really that good. Before this game, she would’ve said that her brother was simply more skilled than her, but after this one . . .
It was difficult to know. It was possible he simply had cheated to position himself into a place where he could make whatever moves he wanted and she wouldn’t be any wiser.
“It’s time for the two of you to get going,” a voice from the kitchen said.
Jayna looked up at her mother. Her pale white apron was stained with a bit of grease, and she had a dusting of flour on one shoulder, but the twinkle was still in her eyes. Her blonde hair was tucked back underneath a headscarf. She paused in front of the stove, leaning forward and nearly losing her balance when she caught herself, covering her mouth while coughing.
Jayna glanced over to Jonathan, but he didn’t pay her any attention. He didn’t pay any attention these
days when it came to Mother. It was almost as if he either didn’t notice Mother was getting sick, or didn’t care.
How could he not care though? Mother had been getting sicker the last few weeks. The cough had certainly gotten worse. She stayed active, though, and made every effort to hide from both of them just how ill she was. Yet she couldn’t hide it from Jayna. Not as well as she wanted to. Jayna was around her too much, helping her in the kitchen, cleaning up the small home they had on the outskirts of the city, and trying to keep everything as organized as possible. Their father had left for long stretches of time, and Jayna had heard her parents discussing places he’d gone to try and find a new healer.
“Get going where, Mother?” Jonathan asked.
“Well, for starters, why don’t you get in here and help?”
“Help?” Jonathan said, getting to his feet and gliding to the kitchen in that way he did. There was something smooth and calculated even in that move. He was playing their mother. “I don’t think you need any help. You are far too capable to need anything I could do.”
“Jonathan Aguelon. If you don’t get out here and start helping me now, I’m going to make sure your father has words with you when he gets back.”
Jonathan chuckled, slipping his arm around their mother’s waist and squeezing her. He leaned down—Jonathan had already been taller than her at barely fourteen—and kissed her on the top of her head. “I doubt Father wants you to have anybody helping you, either. He would just tell me I would mess up the cooking.”
She smacked him on the chest. “You know your father would say no such thing.”
“He would. He did. He knows that if I get involved in the kitchen, I’m bound to burn something. And considering how much I’ve seen you working, I have no interest in ruining anything.”
Jayna got to her feet, heading to the kitchen and shooting her brother a frown. He winked at her again. Jayna could only shake her head. When it came to her brother and the way he managed to get out of work, even around those who knew him best, she couldn’t help but be impressed.
A pounding came at the door.
They all turned to it.
Jayna headed toward the door, but not before the pounding came again, steady and rhythmic. A beating sound that thundered.
It filled her with a hint of dread.
As she reached the door, pulling it open, she stood for a long moment, looking up at the man standing across from her. At the time, she hadn’t known who he was, but she recognized the ring now, the marker for a volar—for dark magic.
Why had he come to see them?
The pounding persisted, even though he no longer knocked at the door.
“Can I help you?”
The pounding came again—steady, regular—and Jayna . . .
She sat up, rubbing her eyes.
A dream. All of it had been a dream.
Why that scenario though?
It had been a day she would never forget. Not because of the simple pleasures of home life—a time when she had still known peace and comfort and the cozy way they had lived—but because of what had come later. It had gone from the comfort of spending the evening with her brother, playing stones with him, to watching her mother baking in the kitchen, far too aware of her steady cough, though she ignored it, to the fear she’d felt at the man’s visit, learning later they had to do something for him.
Dark magic.
Jayna had learned in the Academy that her parents had been caught up in dark magic, but didn’t know how—only that it had taken them from her.
It was something Jonathan never spoke to her about. It was almost as if he didn’t want to acknowledge what had happened, as if he feared recognizing what had happened to them, the kind of magic they’d used.
She swung her legs off the edge of the bed, leaning there for a long moment. Why would she have that dream now?
Maybe because of everything she’d been through. Nothing so far had left her with the same feelings she’d had that day. She had gone through so many emotions. Happiness, contentedness, laughter, and all of it had been stripped away from her.
The steady pounding came again.
Jayna frowned, realizing that it hadn’t only been in the dream.
She hurriedly dressed, slipping on her shoes, grabbing a dagger off the table next to the bed, and stumbled down the hallway. Pain throbbed in her thigh for a moment, but then it faded.
Why was she so tired?
When she reached the main part of the home, she stopped, trying to ascertain what she saw.
Char stood in the doorway, though that wasn’t quite right. Char stood with the door closed behind him, and Eva slapped the table with a steady rhythm. She had a bottle of wine in one hand, and a shattered wineglass rested on the ground near her. She glared at Char, all while slamming her hand on the table.
“What’s going on in here?” Jayna asked.
Char looked over to her. “I came to see you. I didn’t realize your friend was going to be so . . . unruly.”
“I’m unruly? What do you think you’re doing coming here in the middle of the night?”
“It’s not the middle of the night,” Char said. Jayna recognized that tone. He was trying to placate her, but given the state Eva was in, he doubted she would be able to do much. “I told you I’m only here to visit with Jayna. I didn’t come here to harass you.”
Eva swung the bottle toward him, slamming her fist down on the table one more time. There was a heavy thud, then a hint of smoke drifted up from where she’d struck it.
Jayna didn’t know if she pulled upon much of her blood magic.
She hurried forward, thankful she’d slipped her boots on as she stumbled through the glass. “Why don’t you go and take a seat by the hearth,” she said to Eva.
“Take a seat?” Eva started to swing the bottle of wine toward her, and Jayna caught it, pushing it back toward her. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until he apologizes.”
“What do I have to apologize for?” Char asked.
Jayna looked over to him. He had on a heavy brown cloak, the symbol of the Sorcerers’ Society embroidered on the left lapel. “Why don’t you just tell her you’re sorry,” she said.
“What do I have to . . .” Char shook his head. “I’m sorry—for however I offended you, I’m sorry.”
Eva glowered at him, but then staggered over to the hearth where she sank down onto the ground in front of it, tipping back the bottle and looking in their direction before shaking her head and taking yet another drink.
Char came over. “Is it safe now?”
“I think it’s always been safe,” Jayna said.
“I mean, is it safe for me to come in here?”
“What are you doing here, Char?”
“I can’t come and visit my friend?”
She glanced over to Eva. She rested her head against the wall near the hearth, and took another long swig of wine. Something was bothering her. Maybe it was just the dwaring, watching Topher get taken, but there were far too many nights when Eva ended up drinking like this. “You can come and visit me. I’m not trying to suggest otherwise. It’s just that . . .” She turned her attention back to Char. “How did you find me?”
“I tracked you.”
“Tracked me?” Jayna grabbed the broom out of the corner and made quick work of sweeping up the glass. After she got it into a pile, she went looking for the dustpan, but needn’t have bothered. Char crouched down in front of the pile of broken glass, tracing his hands in a pattern in the air above it, then with a sudden surge of power, the glass crackled and turned to dust. Jayna watched him for a moment, shaking her head before letting out a long, trembling breath. She could have done that same magic, but she hadn’t thought of it. It wasn’t altogether uncommon that she didn’t think about using magic when she could. When it came to her sorcerer magic, she avoided it. It was safer that way. And she tried to avoid using the dragon stone ring any more than necessary. “I thought you didn’t detect the linkin
g spell we placed.”
Char’s brow furrowed for a moment. “I don’t. Or I didn’t?” He shrugged. Getting to his feet, he wiped his hands on his pants, as if he had actually touched the glass. That elicited a slight smirk from Jayna. “I can feel it a little bit now. Or, at least, I could feel it a little bit on my way over here. I had to focus on it, and I even had to add a bit more power to it in order to call through it.”
“I wasn’t aware of you doing anything like that.”
“I don’t know that you would be. I was trying not to make it too obvious for you.”
Jayna pulled a chair out from the table, sinking down. Between this and the dream she had, it was almost as if the gods wanted to remind her of what her life might have been like had she stayed in the Academy and finished her training. Memories of her home life before everything had changed, and now having Char appear in her home, the other time when she’d been happy.
“What are you doing here?” She was still tired, and she asked it with a bit more irritation than she intended. When she glanced over to Char, he frowned at her, though he didn’t seem irritated.
“I wanted you to hear from me that I told Master Agnew about the dwaring.”
Jayna watched him for a long moment. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised that Char would betray her to the Society.
“What did he say?” Her words were soft, and she suppressed the annoyance within them.
“He's upset, of course,” Char said, turning away from her and pulling open one of her cupboards.
She was too startled to react.
Was he trying to cook for her?
Char had always enjoyed cooking. It was what made him such a skilled sorcerer, along with a healer. The techniques of cooking and sorcery were not all that different—at least, not when it came to the healing kind of sorcery Char favored. He could use the same approach he took in the kitchen to create some of the magic he used.
“I'm not entirely sure if he believes me. I had hoped to find the enchantment and show him.”
“Don't bother looking for it,” Jayna said. Char turned to her, closing one of the cupboards as he did. “One of the dark sorcerers took it from me.” She decided not to tell him that they had almost used it on her. She could still feel the way the dwaring had seemed to call to some part of the dragon stone magic she could access. She tried not to think about what that meant.
Festival of Mourn (The Dark Sorcerer Book 1) Page 14
