Not once had I considered a rebellion in our own kingdom. Unlike Caltoth whose taxes were excessive, the Borea Isles with its high poverty, and Pythus with its stigma against women, we lived a relatively comfortable existence. The three war schools gave our men and women the chance to rise from the lower trades to one of well renown. Even as merchants, my parents had never once complained about the demands of the Crown.
"Do you think the mages were employed by Caltoth?"
Eve shrugged. "It's the only explanation. Why else would they turn against the Crown? A mage lives a better life than most highborns."
I swallowed. "They wanted Darren. The second they saw him their leader ordered an attack."
"Yeah." Eve glanced back to the tent – the non-heir was no longer inside but she must have heard Priscilla too. "He's not handling it very well. He feels personally responsible for Caine's death…" She sighed. "I tried to reason with him but I don't think Darren is willing to listen to anyone right now."
****
The following night, on the last evening before we departed Mahj the locals put together a large funeral pyre for the fallen. Seventy-one bodies were placed on the wooden platforms, and when they lit the fire it burned heavily into the black desert skies.
Each one of us stood quietly at attendance, solemn in the face of our heavy loss. Many of the regiment leaders from Ishir and Mahj spoke highly of their men, and even Master Byron gave an earnest speech for Caine. There was something terrible about losing someone so young – and he had been so close to his ascension, only five months from earning his black robes of Combat. It had been twenty years since the Academy had lost one of their students in training. An apprenticeship was supposed to be a sheltered form of learning, yet the last battle had just proven how even that was not a certainty.
Several fourth and fifth-years retired early that evening, mourning their comrade's loss more heavily than the rest. My heart went out to them. I hadn't known Caine very well, except for that day during our mock battles, but it was clear he had been a promising student and mentor to those who had known him. More than the rest, Tyra and Jayson had seemed particularly distraught during the rite.
I glanced to Darren to see how the prince was faring. I had barely seen him around camp. Alex had told me that morning he was still refusing treatment from the infirmary mages.
The prince looked sickly – too pale, far too pale for someone that had spent an entire summer under a hot desert sun. There was a hollowness to his face and his clothes seemed unusually ill-fitted. His eyes were black. No longer garnet, they seemed to me two lakes of shadow, unfathomable against the red pyre of death.
Priscilla took Darren's hand, but he showed no knowledge of her presence. The prince watched the dancing orange flames and I was convinced he saw nothing else.
He looked so fragile standing there. So lost. I felt a strong urge to help him any way that I could. But she was there. And there was nothing I could say that hadn't already been said.
After the pyre there was a feast. Local custom dictated food and dance to honor the dead. A flask was passed around the circle. A group of the miners returned, carrying a set of pipes and a couple of local instruments.
People immediately broke out into groups, clapping and laughing as they spanned across the fire in a familiar folk dance. Most of the apprentices watched but a couple joined in. Alex wasted no time taking Ella's hand, and as I watched the two of them spin I felt a hot wave of jealousy sweep over me. I wanted to dance. I wanted to be swept up in the long desert night, sending a farewell to the fallen and embracing the living.
I looked one more time to Darren. The prince was emotionless, numb. I thought back to that night two days ago, under the shade of the palms. What had he started to say? "If things were different." They would never be different. Knives stabbed at my chest as I watched Priscilla embrace him, giving him a long kiss on the mouth and wrapping her arms around his neck while he stared into space. She was beautiful, rich, and he was hers. Not mine. Darren would never be mine.
I looked to the other side of the circle. Ian sat next to Lynn, listening patiently as my mentor chattered away. He was smiling – but the smile never reached his eyes. Something was missing. Was it me?
He wanted me. I knew it. He had almost kissed me in that canyon, and I had seen the way he looked at me that night in the Academy halls. "If you really want Ian, you will find a way. It's an easy thing to want someone – it's another to love them."
Ella was right. Ian was right. I needed to make a choice now: the cold, distant prince or the laughing friend. And once I chose I needed to fight for it. I would never win the former, and maybe not even the latter… But I could try.
Picking up the hem of my trailing orange and gold-beaded skirts, I stood, brushing the dust out of my loose red hair as I walked across the sand. I stopped when I was in front of Ian, suddenly nervous and not at all myself.
"Dance with me."
Lynn stopped talking to stare at me. My mentor had confusion and outrage written across her face. I felt horrible. I should stop. She didn't deserve this.
But I had said I would fight. I was tired of wanting something I couldn't have. There was someone I could have, maybe, but in order to know that I would have to try. Even if that meant hurting someone else.
I remained stubbornly still, ignoring Lynn as I smiled down at Ian.
The curly-haired third-year studied me – a question in his eyes. I could see the fear, half-hidden between flecks of gold. A small grin tugged at the side of his mouth. Then the laugh lines took over and he was smiling wide, mumbling an apology to my mentor as he led me to the floor.
"I don't really know how to dance," I muttered as he placed one hand on my waist and lifted my arm with the other.
"Then why did you ask me?" His eyes caught mine and held them.
"Because I never want you to dance with anyone else."
The music started up again. A wonderful tune, full of stomping beats and carefree whirls. Ian abruptly spun me, and the two of us launched into a makeshift dance with the rest of the crowd. I was reminded of that night we met at the Academy ball – the night he had made me feel like flying.
My dress shimmered as I spun, the beads reflecting the light of the fire and creating a heady rush of glitter while I slipped in and out of his arms. I couldn't stop laughing and Ian's eyes were two embers aglow. My cheeks burned with the fervent rush of the dance and I found myself unable to stop, trapped in an endless feeling of right.
Nothing had ever felt as sure as when Ian caught me and slipped, the two of almost falling to the ground in a dizzy rush. He barely pulled us up before we returned to the floor, the two of us unable to keep the silly grins off our faces as we spun around the campfire light.
"Are you really mine?" he whispered. His mouth was close to my ear.
"You were all I ever wanted."
He chuckled and dipped me, spinning me around once more. And again. And again until I was a twirling mess of color and gleam.
Then he caught me.
Two green eyes locked on my own and I was unable to breath.
My heart caught in my ribs, a frantic beating in my chest. I was falling, flying, safe.
It was the best night of my life.
****
The next couple of months passed in the blink of an eye. No sooner had we arrived in Ishir we were called back into the desert. Each time we returned to the outpost we were summoned for another patrol. Thankfully, these ones were a lot less difficult than the first.
Eventually we reached the end of our term and headed out to Devon for the yearly ascension ceremony. It was time for the fifth-year apprentices to become mages.
For Alex and I, this was the first time we would see the capitol and its infamous palace. Everyone always said it was more stunning than the Academy, but I had always found that hard to imagine. Especially after spending two months in its grand chambers as an apprentice.
But the others weren't lying.
"No. There is no way that can be the palace." My jaw dropped as I stared out into the distance.
"Really, Ry, you act like you've never heard anything about it."
"But it's just so huge-"
"I told you that.
"And high-"
"Again, I-"
"And high!"
Ella snickered. "Well now you are just repeating yourself."
Far past the rolling hills and rocky crags below was a towering structure that seemed as tall as the clouds above. The King's Road snaked across the clustered landscape, a large paved path that wove around thatched huts, tiny shops, and lumbering temples. Large hanging jacaranda dotted the landscape, beautiful blue and lilac blossoms sprouting from their branches as lush grass covered the grounds in every which direction.
As the road approached the towering palace the landscape shifted, flowering trees were quickly replaced with majestic mountain foliage and a rugged mountain backdrop. At the base of the palace walls was the town square: cobble streets and the wealthy merchant stalls sporting luxury goods and services.
The palace was enclosed by walls that were as tall as the Academy had been. They spanned thirty feet high and were made of the same dark brick material. Every so often an even taller pillar protruded from its length housing the palace sentries with unlit torches and narrow openings lined strategically across.
I couldn't see much of the palace from the road – the walls were too high to see its base - but the structure still doubled the wall's height, and some of its towers even more so. The palace was made up of gray stone and mortar, a lighter shade than its fortification, but it also housed large, stained glass windows at staggering heights that shimmered under the direct light of the sun.
The roofs were darker than the rest of the palace. They cut rounding peaks into the sky. It was so beautiful I forgot to breathe. This was where Darren lived? Why had he ever bothered to become a mage? I would have never left home.
"This is what all of us lowborn folk missed out on." Ian had nudged his mare closer to ride next to me. Then he reached out to take my hand in his, sending a warm tingle down my spine as he squeezed. This year was the second time he was seeing the king's palace.
The three of us followed the trailing parade of apprentices down the cobbled road, finally halting at the palace gates. The masters came forward to give our introduction to the local guard, and the soldiers opened the groaning doors to what lay just beyond.
My jaw dropped – again. Beyond the towering gate's walls was a lush garden filled with thriving flowers of every shade, well-manicured brush, cherry blossoms, and a giant, sprawling fountain that hosted a rippling tide of clear, sparkling waters.
To my right lay a long trailing path to the stables, armory, and the massive training grounds. Each structure was in meticulous condition. The guard's bright red livery stood out amongst the large stone buildings. The compound was huge. It housed the King's Regiment and all of the local guard. The Crown's Army, I knew from our lessons, was stationed just outside the city limits. Ten thousand men was much too big a number to fit within the palace walls.
I also knew from our studies that the King's Regiment's housing was in the actual palace itself. As the elite guard to the royal family, the regiment had specific chambers closest to the king and his heirs. There were only thirty knights and mages in its division, but they were usually the most powerful in the land and recruited directly from promotions in the Crown's Army and the Candidacy itself. While the Crown's Army was deployed from time to time to assist with various efforts, the King's Regiment only ever left the palace to accompany the king – or one of his sons like the band I had seen Darren passing with on my way to Sjeka almost two years ago.
To the west lay a continuation of the palace gardens – a place for the courtiers to wander during their residency. I could see highborn ladies-in-waiting strolling the grounds in extravagant dress, with hair perfectly coiffed and powders perfectly pressed and red, red lips. Young highborn men, off-duty knights, and the sons of high-ranking nobility were seen walking the grounds, placing bets and discussing mundane subjects with a practiced flourish that could only come from a lifetime of court.
"Toss me off one of the balconies if I ever talk like that," Alex muttered. We had just given our horses over to the hostler and were walking the remaining steps to the palace.
Ella gave my brother a long look. "You know I grew up here, right?"
His face burned and she laughed. "It's fine, I was never a fan of their habits either."
The four of us followed the rest of our factions in through the palace doors.
By this time I had given up expectation. The second I entered the enormous castle I was ready, and I was not disappointed. Marbled tile covered the floors in elaborate design, a mixture of red, gold, and purple swirl. The walls were dark stone, covered in gold and purple tapestries that depicted various battles and past monarchy in succession. Elaborate gold-plated pillars highlighted the corners of each room as giant stained glass windows let in a cascade of colorful lights…
Everywhere I looked corridors branched into twisting passages, stairs, and chambers in a maze of direction. There were so many twists and turns I didn't know how I would ever find my way out.
"They've got three libraries, two ballrooms, the throne room, a grand dining room for the king's family and special guests, two large halls for the nobility to take their own meals, two kitchens, four servants quarters, a privy at the end of each floor and at least two hundred chambers besides the ones reserved for royalty and the King's Regiment." Ella couldn't contain the irony in her tone as she described the palace – down to the exact count of jewels encrusted in its ceilings.
"Well they say Jerar is the wealthiest nation," Ian remarked casually.
"It's second." All of us jumped as Darren appeared behind us. I hadn't even realized he'd been listening. I had thought he was in the front of the group with Priscilla, Eve, and the rest of the highborns reminiscing on their shared childhood.
"Caltoth is the wealthiest," Darren expanded. "We have more land, citizens, power… but they have the ruby and emerald mines in the North."
"That many rubies, huh?" Ian grinned. "Their streets must be paved with them."
Darren's jaw clenched but he said nothing. When he finally spoke there was a stiffness to his words. "The Caltothians are actually very frugal. My father suspects that is because they are using their wealth to build a secret army." He raised a brow. "Though their ambassadors have denied this whenever they visit."
I stared at the prince. "Do you think Caltoth is using their wealth to buy off our mages as well?" I hadn't forgotten the rebel attacks in Mahj.
"I wouldn't be surprised." The prince gave a curt nod to the rest of my group, letting his eyes fall on me last. "If you'll excuse me, I have some affairs to attend to now that I am home."
Darren retreated with a quick explanation to the masters. The rest of us followed the palace servants to the chambers we would be residing in for the next week before the ascension. While the fifth-years' affair would only last one day, we had the six days prior to enjoy ourselves. It was the only respite we would receive each year until our own ascension. As soon as the ceremony was over we would be returning to the Academy with most of the king's court to watch the first-year trials and pick up our newest batch of apprentices.
"Do you want to take a tour of the city after you've unpacked?"
I smiled up at Ian – he had walked me to my new chambers instead of following the rest of the young men to the men's one hallway over.
"I would love to."
"Then I would love to take you." He started to pull me close, but the two of us broke apart when the sound of angry footsteps sounded behind us.
"Apprentice Ian," the Master of Restoration snapped, "you know the Code of Conduct! Do not make me report the two of you to Master Byron."
"I'm sorry, Master Joan." Ian gave her his most disarming smile. "I was only assuring Ap
prentice Ryiah safe passage."
She narrowed her eyes. "You are lucky I detest your master as much as I do – if I didn't you would already be reported for your flagrant sass."
"Yes, ma'am." Ian was grinning. It was no secret Master Joan hated Master Byron for his sexist ways. She would sooner swallow poison us than report us. The man complained loudly to anyone who would listen that she and Perry were an "abomination" as female mages.
"See to it that we don't have this conversation again."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Apprentice Ryiah." The woman turned her focus to me. "Since you and that boy are in no apparent hurry, I will need your assistance returning those books to the palace library." She pointed to a mountain of crates beside her door. "I'd have the servants take them, but we wouldn't want you Combat apprentices to lose that muscle you worked so hard building would we?"
I nodded meekly. So much for that tour of the city.
****
Seven days came and went before I even knew they had passed. In no time at all the robe ceremony for the fifth-years ascensions had passed and I found myself in a crowded ballroom filled with hundreds of simpering courtiers and regiment mages who had come to celebrate the fourteen new apprentices to join their ranks.
"I can't wait until it's us." Ella stood next to me against the large tapestried wall, gazing in earnest at the four new Combat mages wearing their black mage's robes proudly. Their faces were flush with excitement and they were currently in talks with the regiment commanders of some of Jerar's most prominent townships. Whenever an apprentice became a mage they were offered positions in accordance with their rank during the ascension ceremonies.
Unfortunately that rank was decided by Master Byron. Whose bias had led to fourteen straight years of women apprentices ranking last.
The Black Mage: Apprentice Page 10
