From the stories I had heard from my parents and then Lucien, the arena bouts in Ardann had a distinct armed forces focus. It had made sense in a time of war, when the Academy was preparing its trainees for compulsory conscription and time at the front lines. But now?
Having trainees battle with a focus on their disciplines made sense to me. It both strengthened their discipline training—forcing them to put their knowledge and learning under pressure and driving them to increase their skills—and it encouraged them to learn to defend themselves with their greatest strengths.
I would talk to Lucien over the summer. Perhaps it was time the Ardannian Academy tried some new approaches to combat training.
When we were finally freed to return to the main building, I found myself descending from the seats beside Frida and Ashlyn. While I had enjoyed the brief camaraderie with Dellion, I feared the match would have the opposite effect with the two growers.
Frida grinned at me, however. “Good job taking down Ashlyn’s vines. One day I’ll learn how to make them grow with a resistance to blades.”
I smiled back, encouraged to see that the shared conflict in the arena had broken down some barriers, regardless of teams.
“That would be a useful composition for battle,” I said. “Just don’t ever let any of the vines proliferate in the wild. Can you imagine the complaints of the farmers?”
A startled laugh behind me made me glance back at Isabelle.
“I can imagine it all too well,” she said, when she saw me looking. “My family live on the north coast, and our estate is largely made up of farming land.”
“I’ll be sure to build an incapacity to reproduce into the composition,” Frida assured us, her team’s defeat appearing not to have dented her confidence in her future capability.
Bryony, ahead of all of us, gave me a significant look over her shoulder. See, her eyes seemed to say, look how they’re accepting you now. Not useless at all.
Chapter 13
Dellion quickly returned to her usual superior attitude, but Frida and Ashlyn began to occasionally sit with Bryony, Tyron, and me at meals. Bryony took to needling Tyron about being constantly surrounded by girls, but the easy-going energy mage just grinned and said all the energy mage boys would be wanting to come to the Kallorwegian Academy if they knew what it was like.
As first years, we only spent one morning a week in the arena, and I now actually looked forward to it. Mitchell changed the teams each week, never telling us in advance who it would be, and so I soon had a chance to fight alongside Frida and Ashlyn. My favorite weeks were when Bryony and I were assigned to the same team, but it rarely happened since we were both more skilled with our swords than Tyron.
Forcing us together into teams did more to break down the barriers between me and my Kallorwegian year mates than anything else had done. For those few hours in the arena, rank and home were mostly forgotten, our focus on our battle teams. And though much of the constraint returned when we left, I finally felt like I was making progress.
The lightness in my heart did much to counteract the growing chill in the air. But it didn’t stop me from grumbling to Bryony when she continued to drag me out to the training grounds every rest day morning.
I much preferred the afternoons when I was free to find refuge in the cozy warmth of my favorite place in the Academy. Hugh’s domain—the great library—was located on the floor below mine along with the offices of all our instructors. The room had surprised me at first, being quite unlike the grand double-story libraries of the palace and Academy at home. But I had quickly grown to love it.
The single-story room was deceptive in size, stretching out far further than it first appeared. I could roam through it again and again, always discovering new nooks and corners where puffy armchairs or softly lit desks invited me to stop and linger.
Instead of grand arching windows, it had hidden ones that gave you the sense you were peeping out at the real world from some secret pocket of enchantment. The gray stone of the walls might not hold the grandeur of white marble, but they made the space friendly in a way I hadn’t expected.
And the endless shelves held the one thing that most truly felt like home. Words. Books and scrolls and more books. Libraries like this were a wonder and a treasure in our world where every page had to first be bound by a mage and made safe for ordinary writing. The books stored here represented centuries of effort.
But I noticed a number of shelves whose burdens had a new, shiny look most of the others lacked. When I ran my fingers along them, I wondered how many had been transcribed by sealed commonborns. Or even written by them. I knew a number of the commonborn University graduates in Ardann had written books. We had books now about topics that had never been written about before—like the lives of the commonborns themselves.
My mother was the one who had usually taken me to the library at home, stealing me away whenever we could spare some precious moments together. From my youngest years she had impressed on me the power and value of words.
“This is a gift, Verene,” she would say to me. “A gift I grew up without and that countless others will never experience. Words have power. Our voices have power—and I don’t just mean mine. Never forget how fortunate you are to have access to so much knowledge and wisdom. Treasure it and remember that there are many different types of power.”
Looking back, I occasionally wondered if she had sensed my lack of ability from the very beginning with the inexplicable intuition of motherhood.
Here in the library in distant Kallorway, I could pretend she was just around the next shelf. And I reminded myself I had come to this foreign place to honor her words. I had been given a gift, even if I did not have an ability, and I had a responsibility to use it for my people.
Hugh, the library head, always had a kind word and a smile for me, and often his wife Raelynn was with him. I asked her about the energy trainee Amalia had told us about, and she was full of information about his training. Apparently she had been closely involved—something I should have predicted, given the topic of their studies.
“If you would ever like to know more about healing, I’m always available,” she told me with a smile. “I’m always happy to impart my knowledge more broadly than just my healing trainees.”
My initial question about Raelynn’s status at the Academy had been answered by the discovery of how they handled discipline training. She did serve as healer when needed, but she was also an instructor, teaching those who had selected the healing discipline.
The older couple remained my favorite of the instructors, despite my suspicions that they pitied me for being all alone here. Somehow pity was easier to take from someone who had spent most of their life locked away in a remote Academy—and who looked and acted like they could be my grandparent.
I was named in honor of one of my real grandmothers—now the queen mother—and everyone said I had a strong physical resemblance to her. But she had never been the grandmotherly sort.
I was fairly sure she loved me—in her own way. But for someone who had dedicated her life to her role as queen and to building the strength of Ardann, it couldn’t be much of an honor to have your namesake turn out to be the family failure. I sometimes imagined what it would be like to come back from Kallorway having secured some treaty or alliance. Perhaps then she could be truly proud of me.
And now that we had started in the arena, I finally felt as if I were making small steps of progress. My year mates were letting down their barriers, and I was seeing a side of them that didn’t slavishly follow in the steps of their parents’ loyalties. Maybe with enough time, they would finally let me see whatever truths lurked beneath the surface.
I didn’t allow myself to be too swept away by hope, though. Darius never let his guard down even in arena battles, completing his assigned task with skill but never letting his emotions overwhelm him.
Thoughts of the prince had me in an especially sour mood one freezing rest day morning, as Bryony
dragged me outside as usual.
“It’s going to be too cold to do this soon,” I told her darkly. “If it’s not too cold now.”
“Nonsense! We’ll warm up as soon as we get into the bout.”
“At the very least we’re going to have to start later in the morning,” I pleaded.
“Ha! I’m not so easily fooled. Once you get ensconced in that warm, cozy library, I’ll have no hope of dragging you out here. First thing in the morning is…”
Her voice trailed away as we reached our year’s training yard.
“Is a time we should all be in bed?” I supplied, coming to a stop beside her.
“Does the yard look strange to you?” she asked, ignoring my comment.
I frowned at it. “Strange how?”
“I don’t know, it just looks…different.”
I scanned the square of dirt. The ground looked hard from the frost, but that had become normal for our morning sessions.
“Do you want to go back inside?” I asked hopefully.
Bryony gave me an unimpressed look. “Don’t think you’re getting out of it that easily.”
I assumed my best innocent expression. “If you think something’s wrong, though…”
“I didn’t say wrong, just different. Come on.”
We both stepped into the yard, and with a further inaudible grumble, I stripped off the jacket I was wearing, letting it fall to the ground. Bryony had already drawn her sword, so I drew mine as well, settling into the familiar position ready for a bout.
Bryony jumped straight to the attack, and I let her carry the momentum, giving myself a few moments to adjust. I skipped backward and then backward again, mentally preparing for a counterattack. As I stepped back the third time, however, my heel sank into the ground. I fell, my leg twisting as I did so. I screamed as an audible crack reached my ears along with stabbing pain.
Agony radiated up from my ankle. For a moment I closed my eyes and did nothing but fight it. When I had regained a modicum of control, I opened them again to find Bryony had abandoned her sword and dropped to the ground beside me.
“Verene! What happened?”
She helped me sit up, but when she reached for my ankle, I grabbed her wrist and shook my head.
“No, don’t touch it. I’m not sure how bad it is, but I don’t want you making it worse.”
Bryony bit her lip. “Is it broken then?”
I swallowed, part of my attention still taken up by holding back the pain. “Yes.”
Her head whipped from side to side, but there was no one else in sight. No one else was foolish enough to be out here this early on a rest day—especially not now the weather had turned.
“But what happened? I’ve never seen you fall like that.”
“There was a hole.” Pain made my voice grim. “My heel hit it, and I twisted my ankle as I fell.”
“What do you mean a hole?” She looked from me to the ground. “We’re in the training yard, not out in some warren-studded field.”
“And yet, there was a hole.” I took a deep breath through my nose, bracing against a fresh wave of pain. “You did say something looked off.”
Bryony scooted around me, examining the ground near my foot. I craned my neck to watch her but had to give up when the movement sent a shooting pain up my leg.
“You’re right, there’s a hole.” She looked over at me, anger in her eyes now. “It’s not a big one, but it’s deep enough to be a danger.”
“I don’t know why I didn’t see it.” I winced. “I should have been paying more attention.”
Bryony shook her head. “No, this was concealed.”
My head shot up, my eyes meeting hers. “Concealed?”
“It looks as if whatever—whoever—made this hole filled it with loose dirt so it wouldn’t be immediately obvious.”
Our eyes darted across the rest of the yard in unison. What we saw made me frown and Bryony jump to her feet. She took several steps and leaned down to examine something on the ground.
“It’s another one.” She threw a loaded look back at me. “Just the same.” She scanned the yard again. “It looks like they’re all over the yard.”
“That must have been what you saw when we arrived,” I said. “All the patches are darker because they don’t have the frost. Your mind registered that it looked different, even if you didn’t realize why.”
Bryony crossed back over to me, her voice dropping in volume although we were still alone. “No frost.”
I nodded. “Which means someone did this recently. This morning.”
Bryony frowned at our surroundings which remained stubbornly empty.
“We need to get you inside and to the healer. I could help you back to the Academy.” The doubt was audible in her voice.
I managed a laugh that sounded more like a groan. “Thanks for the thought, but I’m fairly certain there’s no possibility of you carrying me anywhere. You’ll have to go get help. Let Raelynn know what’s happened. This should be an easy fix for her.”
Bryony hesitated. “You’ll be all right out here on your own?”
I pushed at her, the gesture ineffective from my awkward position on the ground. “Go! The sooner you leave, the sooner you can bring Raelynn back with a sweet, sweet pain relief composition.”
Bryony winced but still hesitated.
“Go!” I gave her a stern look. “There’s no reason to think whoever did this is still lurking around. And I’m not unprotected you know.” I patted the front of my robe significantly.
Reluctantly she nodded. Leaving her weapon discarded where it had fallen, she raced away toward the main Academy building, stepping carefully until she had exited the training yard.
Chapter 14
As soon as she disappeared from sight, I closed my eyes, bracing myself against my hands and letting my head flop forward. After a moment, I opened them again, however, searching my surroundings. Despite the quiet around me, it was too easy to imagine enemies drawing close when my eyes were closed.
With every minute that passed, the temptation to draw on my own supply of compositions grew. But I resisted the urge. As terrible as the stabbing, throbbing fire in my ankle felt, I knew far worse pain was possible. It would be foolish to use my reserves when Raelynn would be here soon.
Please, let her be here soon.
After what felt like hours, but was likely only minutes, running steps made me twist around, biting back a yelp at the pain that lanced up from my ankle. Bryony was in view, running back toward me with something gripped tightly in her hand.
She leaped the small fence, only slowing her pace so she could watch her footing more closely. As soon as she reached me, she ripped the parchment she held, flicking her fingers in my direction. A cool mist enveloped me, sinking through my skin and bringing numbing relief.
I gave a long, relieved sigh, and some of the tension left Bryony’s face.
“Raelynn’s coming behind,” she said. “But I ran ahead with her pain relief composition.”
“Thank you,” I said. “You are a beautiful person deserving of much praise.”
Her face lightened even further. “I’ll remind you of that next time you complain it’s too cold to be out here practicing.”
I groaned. “Beauty is overrated.”
A puffing made us both look up to see Raelynn hurrying toward us, her breath frosting in the air in front of her.
“Your Highness!” she cried as she reached our yard. “Apologies for taking so long.”
I shook my head. “No, thank you for coming so promptly. I’m feeling fine now, thanks to the composition you sent with Bryony, but I admit I’m eager to be back inside in the warmth.”
Raelynn shuddered. “Yes, indeed. It’s far too cold for anyone to be out here, let alone an injured patient.”
“Well, I’m sure I won’t be a patient much longer. Not once you’ve had a chance to patch me up.” I smiled at her, but she wagged a reproving finger at me.
“You
may be young, but you’ll still need some recovery time. Healings are draining, you should know that.”
She continued to murmur to herself about the recklessness of youth as she eased herself down onto the ground beside me. She carried a small leather case which she set down and began to rummage through.
I caught flashes of colored leather as she pushed around the pouches inside, looking for the one she wanted. The familiar sight was soothing. Healers at home carried cases just like it.
She found what she was looking for, producing a rolled scrap of parchment and tearing it. Her voice turned soothing and gentle as she switched from a grandmotherly role to a healer.
“This is a composition to diagnose injuries such as breaks and sprains.”
I could neither feel nor see anything, but she clucked her tongue several times, her eyes fixed on my ankle.
“Is it working?” Bryony asked.
“Of course.” Raelynn turned back to her case. “I don’t bother to compose the diagnosis workings so that anyone else can see them. It just makes the patients anxious, since they don’t know how to interpret the visible signs it produces. In this case, you have a break, Your Highness, but a fairly clean one. Healing it will be a simple matter, I’m happy to say.”
I nodded, watching as she rummaged through her case once again. This time, the parchment she retrieved was larger, filled with more words than the diagnosis one had been.
Raelynn smiled at me. “This will have you back on your feet in just a moment, Princess.”
She tore the composition and flicked her fingers at my ankle yet again. A strange, grinding feeling made me wince, although I could feel no actual pain. But it was all too easy to imagine how it would have felt without the earlier pain relief composition.
But in a moment the sensation was gone. Cautiously I extended and then flexed my ankle, my instincts fighting against my brain’s assertion that the injury was gone. My foot responded easily with no sign of any issue.
Bryony popped back up at my side, making me realize she had disappeared. I gave her a questioning look as she helped lever me to my feet.
Crown of Secrets (The Hidden Mage Book 1) Page 12
