Magic Study

by Maria V. Snyder

  I agreed, showing the men some basic defense moves with my bow. While they used their wooden swords, I demonstrated the advantages of having a longer weapon. My participation in the practice drew Cahil’s attention. He usually showed no interest in the training sessions, preferring instead to talk to Leif about his quest to conquer Ixia, but now he approached to watch.

  “Wood against wood is fine for practice, but wood against steel is no contest in a real fight,” Cahil said. “A sharp sword would reduce that staff to splinters.”

  “The edges are the sword’s danger zone. The trick is to avoid the edges,” I said.

  “Show me.” Cahil drew his sword.

  The thick blade extended about three and a half feet from the hilt. An impressive weapon, but heavy. Cahil would need two hands to wield it, slowing him down.

  I concentrated on the feel of the bow’s wood in my hands, setting my mind into my mental fighting zone.

  He lunged forward. Surprised by his quickness, I jumped back. Cahil held the sword one-handed, and I found myself on the defensive. He had some skill with his weapon, but not much. When he swung the massive blade, I dodged, stepped in close, and struck the flat of his sword with my bow. The next time he swung I hit his hand. When he lunged, I kept my bow horizontal and brought it down on the flat tip of the blade, deflecting the weapon toward the ground. My counterstrikes wouldn’t disarm him, but all the while, I kept moving, forcing Cahil to chase me.

  When he grabbed his sword with both hands, I knew he was beginning to tire. It was just a matter of time before he made a tactical error.

  Our match lengthened. His men cheered for him, urging him to take me out. They didn’t notice the sheen of sweat on Cahil’s forehead, or hear the rasp of his breath.

  Soon enough, he swung too wide. I ducked in close, and tapped my bow on his ribs. “Have I proven my point?” I asked, dancing past his next attack.

  Cahil stopped. “It’s getting late. We’ll have to finish this later,” he said. Sheathing his sword, he marched off to his tent.

  Practice was over. His men were quiet as they put away their equipment.

  I sat by the campfire, waiting until Cahil had a chance to cool down. Captain Marrok sat next to me.

  “You proved your point,” he said.

  I shrugged. “With a lighter sword, Cahil would have won.”

  We stared at the flames in silence.

  “Why does he carry that sword?” I asked Marrok.

  “It was the King’s. We managed to smuggle it south with Cahil.”

  I studied Marrok. His face had that worn leather look of a man who has been around for a long time and seen it all. I realized his skin was tanned from the sun and wasn’t a natural pigmentation. “You’re from the north.”

  He nodded and gestured to the men. “We all are.”

  I studied the men. They were a mixed crew of dark-and light-skinned. And I remembered that, before the takeover, the border between Ixia and Sitia had been just a line on the map, and people from both countries mingled freely.

  Marrok continued, “We’re the soldiers who weren’t important enough to assassinate, nor willing to switch our loyalties to the Commander. Goel, Trayton, Bronse and I were all part of the King’s guards.” Marrok shoved a twig into the fire. Sparks flew up into the night sky. “We couldn’t save the King, but we saved his nephew. We raised him, and taught him everything we know. And,” he stood, “we plan to give him a kingdom.” Marrok barked orders to the men, and then headed to his bedroll.

  Weariness settled over me. My eyes grew heavy and I dragged myself to my corner of the dark tent.

  Just before I fell asleep, the tent brightened. I felt a presence near me. My eyes snapped open. Cahil loomed over me with his sword in his hand. Anger pulsed from him in waves.

  9

  I STOOD SLOWLY AND STEPPED back from Cahil.

  “You humiliated me in front of my men,” he said in anger.

  “You asked me to show you how a bow could defend against a sword. I was only doing what you wanted.”

  “It wasn’t an honest match.”

  “What?”

  “Leif said you used magic during the fight. That you made me tired.”

  I suppressed my anger and looked Cahil straight in the eye. “I did not.”

  “Then what did?”

  “Do you really want to know why you lost?” I asked.

  “Do you really have an answer?” he countered.

  “You need to get off your horse and run with your men. You don’t have the stamina for a long fight. And find a lighter sword.”

  “But it was my uncle’s.”

  “You’re not your uncle.”

  “But I’m the King, and this is the King’s sword,” Cahil said. His brows creased together. He seemed confused.

  “So wear it to your coronation,” I said. “If you use it in battle, you’ll be wearing it to your funeral,” I said.

  “You believe I’ll be crowned?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “What is the point?”

  “I would have beaten you with my bow. That sword is too heavy for you.”

  “I always win against my men.”

  I sighed. Of course his men wouldn’t beat him. I tried another tactic. “Have you been in a battle?”

  “Not yet. We’re in training. And besides, a King doesn’t risk himself during a battle. I stay in the base camp and direct the combat.”

  His comment didn’t sound right to me, but, then again, I had no experience with warfare. Instead, I said, “Think about it, Cahil. Your men raised you. They want to reclaim the throne. But do they want it for you or for themselves? Exile in the south isn’t as glamorous as being the King’s guards.”

  Cahil snorted with disdain, shaking his head. “You know nothing. Why would you care? You’re a spy. You’re just trying to confuse me.” He returned to his cot.

  Cahil was right. I didn’t care. Once we reached the Keep and I proved my innocence, I wouldn’t have to bother with him again. Leif, on the other hand, had interfered with me one too many times.

  I scanned the tent. My brother’s cot was empty.

  “Where’s Leif?” I asked.

  “Gone.”

  “Where?”

  “I sent him ahead to notify the Keep of our arrival. Why?”

  “Family business.” I spat the words out.

  Cahil must have seen the murderous glint in my eyes. “You can’t hurt him.”

  “Oh, yes, I can. He’s caused me a lot of trouble.”

  “He has my protection.”

  “Is that one of the benefits of being a member of your quest for the north?”

  “No. When we captured you and Leif, I gave him my word that no harm would come to him in exchange for his full cooperation in dealing with you.”

  I blinked at Cahil. Had I heard him right? “But Leif set me up.”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “I thought letting you believe you had been betrayed by your own brother would demoralize you. However, it seems to have had the opposite effect.”

  Cahil’s plan might have worked if Leif and I had had a relationship. I rubbed my face as I tried to decide if knowing the truth changed my opinion about Leif.

  Sitting on the edge of his cot, Cahil studied me in silence.

  “If Leif didn’t set me up, then who did?”

  Cahil smiled. “I can’t reveal my sources.”

  Leif had managed to convince many Zaltanas that I was a spy, so the entire clan was suspect. Anyone at the Illiais Market could have overheard our destination, as well.

  I couldn’t worry about it now, but I wouldn’t forget it, either. “You said you sent Leif to the Keep,” I said. “Will we be there soon?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon; about an hour after Leif arrives. I want to make sure we’re met by the right people,” Cahil said. “An important day, Yelena. Better get some sleep.” He blew out t
he lantern.

  I reclined on my cloak, wondering about the Citadel and Keep. Would Irys be there by tomorrow? Doubtful. I stretched my awareness out, seeking Irys but only encountering wildlife. Without Irys at the Keep would the First Magician peel away the layers of my mind? Apprehension churned inside my stomach. I would rather face Goel than the unknown. Eventually, though, I slept.

  Dark dreams of Reyad swirled in my mind.

  “Same story, Yelena,” Reyad’s ghost said, laughing and taunting. “No options. No friends. But you have a knife. Again.”

  An image of Reyad wrapped in blood-soaked sheets flashed in my dreams. The killing wound in his neck was the result of my desire to protect myself and the other kidnapped children from torture and mindless slavery.

  “Will you cut another’s throat to save yourself?” he asked. “How about your own?”

  I woke to the sound of crying and realized with horror that my face was wet. Brushing away the tears, I resolved not to let my doubts plague me. Reyad’s ghost might haunt my dreams, but I wouldn’t allow him to haunt my life.

  Morning dawned with the smell of sweet cakes, and I joined the men by the fire for breakfast. After we ate, Cahil’s men packed up the camp. Their mood was light and their banter friendly, so I was caught off guard when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

  Before I could move, the grip tightened, causing pain. I turned my head. Goel stood behind me.

  He dug his fingers deeper into my flesh as he whispered in my ear. “I promised not to hurt you while we traveled to the Citadel. Once there, you’re mine.”

  I rammed my elbow into Goel’s stomach. He grunted. I stepped forward and knocked his hand off my shoulder with my arm as I spun. Facing him, I asked, “Why warn me?”

  He drew in a deep breath and grinned. “Your anticipation will make the hunt more exciting.”

  “Enough talk, Goel. Let’s do it now.”

  “No. I want time to play. I have all kinds of games planned for when I have you, my sweet.”

  My body shook with an icy chill of revulsion. Goose bumps covered my skin. It was a sensation I never thought I would feel in the sweltering south.

  “Goel, help take down the tent,” Captain Marrok ordered.

  “Yes, sir.” Goel walked away, glancing back at me with a smirk on his face and a promise in his eyes.

  I let my breath out slowly. This didn’t bode well.

  When the men finished breaking camp, Cahil mounted his horse and we set off through the forest. After several hours, the trees thinned as the trail ascended a hill. At the top of the rise, a vast valley, bisected by a long dirt road, spread out in front of us. Farm fields etched geometric shapes on the left side of the road. An immense plain dominated the landscape on the right side. Across the vibrant valley was another ridge, and I could just make out a white fortress spanning its crest.

  “Is that the Citadel?” I asked Marrok.

  He nodded. “Another half day’s march.” His gray eyes slid to the right as if searching for something.

  I followed his gaze and watched the long grass stalks sway in the breeze. “Daviian Plateau?”

  “No. That’s farther southeast,” Marrok said. “This is the edge of the Avibian Plains. The plain is huge. It takes ten days to cross it.”

  “My cousin mentioned traveling through a plain on the way to the Citadel, but we’re really just skirting it.”

  “Crossing Avibian is a shortcut. Zaltanas will cross, but everyone else avoids contact with the Sandseed Clan who calls the plains home. Taking the forest route is the long way, but it’s safe.”

  I wanted to ask more, but Cahil increased the pace as we descended into the basin. He was either eager to reach the Citadel or anxious to put the plains behind him.

  We passed laborers working in the farm fields, and a caravan of merchants with their horse-drawn wagons loaded with goods. Nothing but the tall grass moved in the plains.

  The Citadel grew massive in appearance as we traveled closer. We stopped only once to water the horse and the men.

  When we reached the towering gates, I was awed by the sheer size of the outer bulwark. Green veins streaked the white marble walls. I ran a hand along them, finding it smooth and cool despite the blistering heat. I had thought it was hot in the forest, but that had been nothing compared to being fully exposed to the searing sun.

  The two guards at the Citadel’s open gates approached Cahil. After a brief conversation, Cahil led us into a courtyard. I squinted in the bright sunlight. The majestic sight before me took a while to sink in. An entire town resided within the Citadel’s outer walls. All the structures were made of the same white marble with veins of green that comprised the outer wall. I had visualized the Citadel as one large building, like the Commander’s castle in Ixia, but this was far beyond anything I could have imagined.

  “Impressed?” Marrok asked.

  I closed my mouth and nodded. Our party began to walk through the streets and I realized the place was deserted. “Where is everyone?” I asked Marrok.

  “The Citadel’s a ghost town during the hot season. The Council is in recess, the Keep is on holiday and only a skeleton crew tends the crops. Everyone who can flees to the cooler climates, and those who are left retreat inside at midafternoon to avoid the sun.”

  I didn’t blame them. My scalp felt as if it were on fire. “How much longer?” I asked.

  “Another hour,” Marrok said. “See those four towers?” He pointed to the east. “That’s the Magician’s Keep.”

  I stared at their height, wondering what dwelled in those lofty chambers.

  We trudged on through the empty streets. The road surface alternated between packed dirt and cobblestones. I spotted dogs, cats and a few chickens crouched in bits of shade. When we neared a large square structure with multiple tiers, Marrok said, “That’s Council Hall where the Sitian government has its offices and conducts meetings.”

  The building had long steps that stretched the entire length beneath the first floor and led up to a grand entrance. Jade colored columns bracketed the doorway. A group of people huddled in the Hall’s shadow. They approached us as we walked past. A strong odor of urine emanated from them. Filth matted their hair and covered their tattered attire.

  One man reached out with a soot blackened hand. “Please, sir, spare a coin?”

  Cahil’s men ignored them and kept walking. The group followed along, determined.

  “Who are…?” I started to ask, but Marrok didn’t slow. I tried to catch up, but a small boy pulled on my arm. His brown eyes were rimmed with sores and streaks of dirt lined his cheeks.

  “Lovely lady, please. I’m hungry,” the boy said. “Spare a copper?”

  I glanced around for Marrok. He was half a block away. I couldn’t understand why this boy needed money, but I couldn’t refuse those eyes. I dug into my pack and pulled out the Sitian coins Esau had given me. I dumped all of them into his palm.

  Kneeling down to his level, I said, “Share these with your friends. And take a bath. Okay?”

  A joyful expression lit his face. “Thank—”

  Before he could finish we were engulfed by a strong stench as the others surrounded us. They grabbed my arms, pulled at my clothes and yanked on my backpack. I saw the boy pocket the coins and slid out of the melee between the others’ legs. The putrid smell of so many unwashed bodies made me gag.

  “Lovely lady. Lovely lady,” filled my ears until their words were cut off by the clatter of hooves on the cobblestones.

  “Get away from her,” Cahil yelled. He brandished his sword in the air. “Go. Or I’ll cut you in half.”

  In a heartbeat, the crowd disappeared.

  “Are you all right?” Cahil asked.

  “Yes.” I smoothed my hair and reshouldered my pack. “What was that about?”

  “Beggars. Filthy street rats.” A look of disgust darkened his face. “It was your fault. If you hadn’t given them money, they would have left you alone.”

  “
Beggars?”

  My confusion seemed to amaze Cahil. “Surely you know what beggars are?” When I didn’t answer, he continued, “They don’t work. They live on the streets. They beg for money for food. You had to see them in Ixia,” he said with frustration.

  “No. Everyone in Ixia has a job. Basic necessities are provided to all by the Commander’s military.”

  “How does he pay for it?”

  Before I could answer, Cahil’s shoulders drooped. “With my uncle’s money. He has probably drained the treasury dry.”

  I bit back my reply. As far as I was concerned, better to have the money helping people than covering the floor of some treasury.

  “Come on.” Cahil took his foot out of the stirrup, reached down, and held out his hand. “We need to catch up to the others.”

  “On the horse?” I asked.

  “Don’t tell me they don’t have horses in the north.”

  “Not for me,” I said as I placed my foot in the stirrup and grabbed his arm. He pulled me into the saddle. I sat behind him, not sure what to do with my arms.

  Cahil turned slightly. “For who then?”

  “The Commander, Generals and high-ranking officers.”

  “Cavalry?” Cahil asked.

  He was fishing for information. I suppressed a sigh. “Not that I saw.” The truth, but I ceased to care if he believed me or not.

  Cahil craned his head around and studied my face. A wave of heat enveloped me; I suddenly felt too close to him. His eyes sparked a bluish-green color like the water in the sunlight. And I found myself wondering why he wore a beard in such a hot climate. I imagined Cahil without his beard. He would look younger, and it would be easier to see his smooth, tanned skin and hawklike nose.

  When he turned back, I shook my head. I wanted nothing more to do with him.

  “Hold on,” he said. Then he clicked his tongue.

  The horse began to move. I clutched Cahil’s waist as I bounced in the saddle. The ground seemed so far down and looked so hard. I fought to keep my balance as we caught up to his men. When we passed them, I relaxed, assuming he would stop and let me off. But we kept going, and the men ran behind.

  As we wound our way through the Citadel, I focused on the horse beneath me, trying to find a rhythm for my body to match the horse’s like Cahil seemed to be doing. He crouched above the saddle, while my legs pounded the leather. I concentrated on the horse’s movement and suddenly found myself looking out of the horse’s eyes.