by Jasmine Walt
“What a coincidence.” I looked him up and down. His short, blond hair was damp from a fresh shower, and he wore a button-up red shirt and tight pants that clung to slightly damp skin. He’d foregone shoes, which meant he probably hadn’t gone out yet. The lack of shadows beneath his eyes told me he’d gotten a good night’s sleep, maybe even slept in.
“You’re looking a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you,” I commented as he let me in.
“Yeah, well, I’ve had a bit of time to recover from my little vacation in Prison Isle.” His voice darkened, but only for a second. “I hear you went on a little vacation yourself.”
I snorted. “Yeah, if being stranded on a deserted island with no amenities of any kind could be called a vacation.” Luckily for me, shifters were much better at surviving in the wilderness than the average human. I made my way into his living room and plopped down on the couch. He’d added a bookshelf and a side table, and there was a still-life painting on his wall that I didn’t remember seeing before. “I nearly went insane trying to keep myself occupied.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re home safe.” Lakin eyed me up and down, then cleared his throat. “And, um, congratulations on your engagement.” He looked away.
“Thanks.” I narrowed my eyes a little. “Something you want to say about it?”
Lakin sighed, turning back to me. “Not really. I wish you the best, but I can’t help thinking that it’s an impossible match.”
“You and everyone else,” I muttered, and this time, I was the one who looked away. I knew the huge obstacles Iannis and I were facing by choosing to publicly engage in a relationship, but I didn’t really need Lakin reminding me about them.
“Sorry.” Lakin lowered himself into the recliner across from me, and the chair creaked beneath his weight. “I shouldn’t have said anything. And I really do hope that it works out.”
“Thanks.” I smiled, though it came out a little strained. Lakin’s words were sincere, but there was no hiding the disappointment lurking behind them.
“So, what do you need?” he asked, curiosity overcoming his momentary wistfulness. “I’m imagining this isn’t a social call.”
“No, it’s not,” I admitted. “I was hoping you might be able to tell me where any citizens the Resistance recruited after Iannis’s disappearance had gotten off to.”
Lakin frowned. “You mean if I know which base they were sent to?”
I nodded. “Noria Melcott, Annia’s younger sister, was one of those recruits. Her boyfriend Elnos, and Annia herself, left a couple of weeks ago to find her and drag her back home, before the mages lose their temper and start annihilating the camps wholesale. Elnos and Annia made it to a Resistance camp in Canalo that they think Noria went to, but they’ve been out of touch since then, and I’m worried. I may need to go retrieve them, but I can’t without the location.”
“I see.” A troubled expression settled on Lakin’s face. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t have any knowledge of such a camp. I did help a number of shifters flee the city, but I wasn’t sending them to the Resistance.”
“Yeah, but surely you know someone who could tell me,” I urged. “What about those two birdbrains who visited last time? Have you seen them lately?”
“Hmm.” Lakin tapped his forefinger against his chin. “I haven’t heard back from them, but then again, it’s entirely possible they were captured and are now awaiting sentence.”
“Shit.” I pursed my lips together, then brightened. “Of course. I’m so dumb. I’ll just go to Prison Isle and question a few of them. Maybe the Chief Mage will let me offer reduced sentences to anyone who provides useful information.”
“You could start with asking your cousin Rylan, you know,” Lakin said dryly. “I’m sure he would be happy to help.”
“Yeah, well, that depends on your definition of ‘help’.” My lips thinned as I recalled how Rylan had attempted to ‘help’ me, by getting a witch to cast a spell that made me forget to warn Iannis about an impending ambush. Anger ignited in my chest, and I took a deep breath and exhaled through my nostrils to expel it. He wasn’t worth getting angry over.
“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Lakin asked warily.
I shook my head. “Nothing worth mentioning.” I checked my watch, wondering if I had time to get over to Prison Isle. “Crap, my magic lesson starts in an hour. I’d better get going.”
“All right.” Lakin looked a little disappointed that I was cutting my visit so short, but he smiled as he walked me to the door. “I’ve got to check in with Chieftain Baine soon anyway. She’ll have orders for me, depending on what was decided at the council meeting.”
“Oh, yeah.” I hesitated at the doorstep, wondering if I should ask him to tell Mafiela I’d called. But I’d already asked Melantha to do it, and I didn’t want to seem desperate. Mafiela would be curious enough about my invitation to answer, anyway. All I had to do was wait.
5
I reached the training room before Iannis, which wasn’t surprising. He was ridiculously overburdened, dealing with the aftermath of what the people were beginning to refer to as the Uprising. There were prisoners to sentence, structures to rebuild, jobs to fill, agreements to hash out. It was a wonder he managed to make time for our lessons at all.
Following my usual routine, I sat cross-legged in the middle of the wooden floor, closed my eyes, and practiced a breathing drill Roanas had taught me. The breathing drill might have been a martial arts exercise, but its ability to help one focus and maintain calm had endless application. Control over one’s emotions was essential when practicing magic—a flare-up of anger or a lapse of concentration at the wrong time could have disastrous consequences. Today had been particularly emotional, and I did my best to breathe it all out so I would be ready when Iannis arrived.
Footsteps and murmured voices drifted through the crack beneath the door, and I tuned them out so I could focus. But the moment Iannis’s sandalwood scent reached me, my heart jumped in my chest. I took in a deeper breath than was strictly necessary, listening to the distinctive sound of his approaching footfalls, but kept my eyes closed as the door swung open.
“Hello.” His sexy, slightly musical accent turned the greeting into a caress that slid along my spine like a silken scarf.
“Hello to you too.” I opened my eyes and smiled at him. He looked a far cry from the gorgeous, naked man I’d woken up to this morning, dressed now in his blue-and-gold robes, his hair tied back from his stern but handsome face. “How’s your day been so far?”
“Busy.” Iannis placed his palm against the doorjamb and muttered a few Words. Glowing blue energy rippled outward from the door and across the walls, signaling that the protective wards had been activated. My magic wouldn’t be able to harm anyone outside this room, and no one would be able to get in unless Iannis let them. “Are you ready to begin?”
“Yes—” I began, then hesitated. “Well, no. Not exactly.”
Iannis’s eyebrows pulled together in a frown as he came to stand in front of me. “Why not?”
I got to my feet, so I wouldn’t have to tilt my neck back to look up at him. Or at least not as much—he was a foot taller than I was, after all. “You said my apprenticeship would take ten years. Is that the average length, or are you adding years because I’m so far behind?”
“It depends on the individual student, but yes, ten years is about average,” Iannis confirmed, and my heart sank. “You are a fast learner, so I am optimistic you can complete it in that time despite your lack of basic mage education. However, we really must do something about your Loranian—mage children typically begin learning it at four years of age.”
“Yeah, Fenris told me he was going to start giving me lessons for two hours a day.” I tried not to groan at the idea. “I just hope my eyeballs won’t fall out.”
“I think you’ll manage,” Iannis said dryly, though his lips twitched ever so slightly.
“So what’s the basic curriculum, th
en?” I asked as he pulled three brightly colored balls, roughly the size of lemons, from his sleeve.
He tossed the balls to me, and I caught them hastily. “You should practice your magic while we’re talking. We cannot afford to waste time.”
“All right, all right.” Sighing, I tossed them into the air one at a time, then spoke a variant of the levitation spell Fenris had taught me. The first ball shot up way too fast, and I had to bring it back down slowly—I still hadn’t properly recalibrated to account for my recent power increase. The second one came up more easily, the third even better.
“Good,” Iannis said once I had them all levitating individually. “Now make the one on the left spin clockwise, and the one on the right spin counterclockwise.”
It took me a moment to dredge up the correct Words for that, and another moment still to get the balls moving in the correct directions. Any of the other apprentices would laugh to see me struggle like this—to them, this was child’s play, an exercise their mothers would have taught them when they were small.
“Basic skills that all mages are taught during their childhood include the rudimentary shields and wards, making and extinguishing fire, efficient use of magic and energy, soothing frightened animals, and blending in with your surroundings,” Iannis continued. “By the time a mage is ready to begin their apprenticeship, they should have mastered the spells associated with those skills, and at least one signature spell taught by their family.”
“Signature spell?” I asked, then cursed roundly as one of the balls dropped onto my head. I tried to grab it before it fell to the ground, but the motion broke my concentration, and the rest of the balls fell as well, bouncing harmlessly away.
“Start over,” Iannis said mildly, and I took a deep breath to curb my frustration. Once I was calm again, I reached out with my hands and spoke the correct Words to levitate the balls back in my direction. Iannis nodded approvingly as I got them back into the air and started spinning them in circles.
“Very good. As I’ve mentioned before, fluency in Loranian is essential for the apprentice curriculum, and is also considered a basic skill. The general curriculum includes the history and theory of magic—which you have already begun to study—healing, offensive and defensive magic, and mastery of the elements.”
“Air, earth, water, and fire?” I asked. One of the balls began to dip down, but I got it back up before my spell unraveled again. Ha. I was getting better at this!
“Yes, and while that sounds simple, there are many applications of elemental magic, such as spells relating to weather and agriculture. Any mage worth his salt should be able to ensure his people can grow crops and have enough food for themselves, and a surplus for trade as well.”
I only nodded, not willing to disrupt my concentration again. A week ago, when we’d started this exercise, I wouldn’t have even been able to listen to him talk. I would get to the point where I could hold a conversation, but not today.
“In addition to that, there are around two hundred standard spells that any mage is expected to have fully mastered before graduation, and each mage should have mastered an additional hundred spells in their specialty, if they have chosen one.”
“Specialty?” I asked. One of the balls stopped spinning for a second, then started up again as I glared at it.
“Yes. Mine, for example, is healing. Another mage might be better versed in magical warfare.”
“I want to specialize in that,” I announced. To my delight, the balls didn’t even jitter.
“I am not in the least bit surprised to hear that.” Iannis sounded amused. “You have a warrior’s spirit. I shall keep your wish in mind, but it’s rather early to think about specialization. In the meantime, I’m afraid we won’t be spending as much time sparring magically as we did in your earlier lessons, since you’ll need to catch up with the basic skills and Loranian.”
That was a little disappointing—I enjoyed the magical sparring, even if I was at a huge disadvantage against Iannis. But I held my complaints back as we continued with the rest of the lesson, finishing up with the levitation spell, then moving onto other magical exercises that were built around improving magical efficiency.
After all, I wanted to finish my apprenticeship as quickly as possible, so there was no point in bitching about what couldn’t be changed.
Thankfully, we didn’t spend the entire hour on mind-numbing drills. Iannis had me start practicing with water, both conjuring and directing it, which proved very difficult since it was such a slippery element. He had me start by filling a bowl, then using the contents to form patterns and shapes in the air.
“Hey, isn’t that one pretty?” I asked, tracing a heart shape in the air with my finger. The water followed my direction, twisting around as it attempted to form the same shape.
“Yes—” Iannis began, but I accidentally flicked my finger a little too hard, and the water splashed right into his face.
“Sorry!” I laughed as he spluttered, his head, neck, and shoulders completely soaked. He leveled a glare at me, then flicked his hand, and I ducked to avoid the thick stream of water he flung at me. I conjured another ball of liquid, then threw it straight at him. It hit him smack dab in the chest, soaking him through.
“Oh, so you want a fight now, do you?” A devilish grin curved his lips, my only warning. He flicked his hands, and my eyes nearly popped out of my skull as a towering wave of water rushed toward me out of thin air. I tried to dodge it, but it was way too big, and I slipped on a puddle just as it crashed into me.
“Oww!” I cried, slapping at the ground as I hit the floorboards hard. Or, at least, I tried to say oww, but water filled my mouth, choking off my words. I sputtered and gasped, trying to catch my breath as rivulets ran down my body and into the floorboards.
“Are you all right?” Iannis was suddenly next to me, kneeling on the wet ground as he gathered me into his arms. “I didn’t consider the slippery floorboards.”
“I’m fine,” I managed, my throat a little raw from coughing up water. Clinging to him, I looked into his face, noticing the droplets of water clinging to each of his long, dark lashes. Even with his hair plastered to his head, and his features taut with worry, he was beautiful.
“I’m fine,” I repeated, reaching up to stroke his cheek.
He pulled me tighter against him as his lips found mine, and I sighed as I allowed myself to melt into his strong embrace. It felt so good to be able to let my guard down, to be able to show my feelings openly, and even better, to have them returned. Just weeks ago, Iannis and I had tiptoed around each other, and now we kissed and touched every chance we got.
His big hand slid up my blouse, and I moaned a little as his thumb brushed over my nipple. “Is this part of the lesson?” I murmured against his mouth.
“A different lesson,” he admitted, nibbling at my earlobe, “but one I can always make time for.”
I giggled as he rolled me onto my back, and there was no more talking for quite some time after that.
6
After our ‘lesson’ was done, Iannis and I adjourned to his suite, where we had an early dinner with Fenris. Iannis was going to be busy all evening, but he wanted to update us about what was going on in the Mages Guild, and I was more than amenable to that.
“I’ve had dinner in Iannis’s rooms more times than I can count, but never with another person,” Fenris remarked as he cut up the seasoned chicken breast on his plate. “It’s a pleasant change of pace.”
I grinned a little. “I have a feeling this isn’t going to be the only thing that changes around here, now that we’re engaged.” I squeezed Iannis’s leg from underneath the table, away from Fenris’s watchful gaze. He didn’t react outwardly, but his leg tensed ever so slightly beneath my hand, indicating his surprise. Obviously, he wasn’t at all used to being groped around other people.
Fenris chuckled. “Are you kidding? Things have already changed drastically. Or haven’t you noticed the bounce in Iannis’s step
as he walks the halls these days?”
“There is no ‘bounce’ in my step, Fenris,” Iannis said mildly as he forked up some green beans. But his eyes flashed in annoyance, and Fenris and I snickered. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, let’s get on to business. You may have noticed, Sunaya, that I’ve been getting a lot of calls from the Minister lately.”
“I certainly have.” I’d been wondering about it, too, but had held my tongue, figuring Iannis would tell me about it sooner or later.
“Well—and this is not to blame you, Sunaya—but when I left to retrieve you from that remote little island, I had to cancel my participation in an important mission for the task force the Minister formed after we’d rescued him.”
“You mean the one that is supposed to shut down any ongoing operations of the Resistance?” I sat up straighter. “What mission did you miss?”
Iannis waved the question away. “It no longer matters. But now the Minister has another mission for me, and I cannot refuse again. He wants me to personally smoke out some secret Resistance stronghold.”
“Where is it?” Fenris wanted to know.
“The Minister refused to divulge that information over the phone. He wants to brief me in person, and he is expecting me tomorrow night.” Iannis turned his gaze toward me. “You will be coming along.”
I frowned. “For the meeting?”
“Not just the meeting, but the mission itself. We will be leaving for the stronghold as soon as we are briefed. The minister expects me to personally lead an assault on the remaining Resistance forces in the area. Your shifter and enforcer experience will come in handy, and it will be educational for you, especially if you plan to specialize in combat magic. Consider it part of your practical training.”
“But I can’t go.”
Iannis’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“I can’t go,” I repeated, feeling both angry and horrible at once for saying it. I wanted to go on this mission, of course—it was an honor to be included, and, besides, I wanted to take down the Resistance. “I’ve got to go after Annia and Elnos.”
