The Black Mage: Apprentice (28 page)

"Is Wolf a hound?" I asked nervously. A hole
had formed in the pit of my stomach. I forced myself to ignore
it.

At the mention of his name a thin, shaggy
coated mutt lifted its head from the middle of the pack. Unlike the
sleek, muscled palace hounds, this animal was clearly not used for
the hunt. It was scrawny with gray matted fur and timid brown eyes
peeking out of the long gray hairs that practically covered its
face. It didn't look dangerous, but then old man Crawley's dog
hadn't either.

"Come here, boy."

I turned quickly to look at Darren - the tone
he had used to call Wolf forward was so different from what he
usually used that I almost couldn't believe it had come from
him.

Darren didn't notice; he had already hopped
the enclosure and was busy embracing the mutt who had suddenly
sprung to life and launched himself into his master's arms. The dog
was yipping and thumping its tail so loudly that fur was coating
the air beside him.

A sense of foreboding filled my chest. I knew
what was coming next.

Darren glanced back at me. "Are you coming,
Ryiah?"

I hesitated for a moment. Maybe. Maybe I
could do this. I took a step forward and gripped the gate's handle,
my knuckles white with trepidation. One of the hounds trotted
forward to sniff at my fingers and I jumped back, retreating to
where Heath stood a couple feet away from the gates. My hands were
slick with sweat and I wiped them nervously against the skirt of my
dress.

"I – I can't." My throat was dry and the
words came out scratchy and odd – like I was choking on sand.

Darren frowned. "What do you mean you
can't?"

"I mean…" I clenched and unclenched my fists
anxiously. "I just can't, Darren."

"Ryiah." Something about the prince's voice
made me look up. "Are you afraid of dogs?"

I forced myself to hold his gaze. "When
Derrick was five, one of them attacked him. I was only eight. We'd
both grown up playing with our neighbor's dog Bo and then one day
it just turned." My breath hitched and I made myself breathe out
more slowly. "It was terrible. Crawley had to – he couldn't call Bo
off – he had to… And then Derrick had to spend two weeks being
treated – we, um, we couldn't afford a healer so it was up to my
parents to tend to his leg… It's fine, now, but I – ever since that
I just..."

Darren hadn't once taken his eyes off me the
whole time I was talking. Now he straightened and approached the
gate's entrance with Wolf trailing behind. When he reached the edge
of the enclosure, he rested his arm on the top of the barrier's
railing. "Ryiah, I want you to come here."

I stared at him, wide-eyed. "You are mad if
you think that I'm going inside."

"Ryiah," he said patiently. "You want to be a
warrior mage. Facing your fears is part of that."

"Darren, I can't!" I was ashamed when my
voice cracked.

"You can," he said patiently. His eyes held
pity. "Ryiah, Bo was sick. It happens with the hounds occasionally
when they are bitten by an infected animal - or even one of the
strays. There's no known cure when it happens… there was nothing
you could have done differently." He patted Wolf's head. "Heath and
the rest of the kennel's staff know the signs. You are safe. Now
come meet Wolf." His smile brightened as he looked down at the
shaggy-haired mutt. "He's the only family member I can promise will
give you a warm reception."

I forced myself to take a step forward, and
then another, until I was in front of the gate. Darren nodded
encouragingly as I unbolted the latch and timidly stepped through
its entry, every inch of me on alert.

Darren held out his hand and I took it,
hoping he wouldn't notice how clammy my fingers had become. I let
him gently pull me closer to Wolf, and then held myself rigid as
the mutt eagerly sniffed at my boots. The other hounds remained at
a distance, seeming aware of my obvious discomfort. Wolf yelped and
I dropped Darren's hand, heart slamming into my ribs. For a second
all I could see was the cold, hard axe and Bo whimpering in a pool
of his own blood.

"It's okay, Ryiah." Darren's voice broke
through the haze as his hand found mine again. "Wolf just wants you
to pet him."

The hammering in my ears shifted and I forced
myself to look away from the prince and down to the panting gray
dog at my feet. The dog looked up at me and thumped its tail, then
made another whining noise.

"He's a bit needy, I'm afraid I've spoiled
him."

I took a deep breath and reached out to touch
him. Wolf yipped and jumped up to meet my hand. I stumbled, unable
to stop myself from pulling back in fear, and landed on the ground
with Wolf bounding up right on top of me. Wolf lodged his head at
my throat and I shrieked, arms held up against my face only to feel
his warm, wet tongue licking my wrists and hands enthusiastically.
I lowered my arms, embarrassed, and the dog darted in to lick my
face much to my chagrin.

Meanwhile, standing above me was Darren,
shaking with laughter.

I timidly began to pet the dog, still keeping
one eye on him while I shot Darren a half-hearted glare. "Thanks
for that! I could have been mauled!"

"By what? Being licked to death?" Darren
snickered and then crouched down beside me to rub Wolf's head.
"Naw, this one is a coward. The palace cats tease him about it all
the time. The hounds chase them and then they take their
frustration out on poor ol' Wolf because he's not fast like the
rest of them. He's only a stray."

I couldn't help smiling a little as I shifted
to a crouch, still petting Wolf.
This isn't so bad – Bo was like
this too, before it happened
. "A stray?"

Darren nuzzled his dog's neck, seemingly
unconcerned that he was getting white and gray fur all over his
dress. "Yes," he said absentmindedly, "when Wolf was just a pup
Heath found him wandering the palace grounds… I'm not sure exactly
how he got through the gates, but it was raining and he was nothing
more than a pile of bones. At the time Father was pressuring me to
get a hound of my own for the yearly hunt – I was ten. I was a bit
defiant, as you know, so I chose the most pathetic animal I could
find and that was Wolf." He grinned. "The look on Father's face was
priceless when I showed up to my first hunt with a stray."

"So what happened?"

Darren's hand faltered on Wolf's neck.
"Nothing I wasn't expecting." He glanced at his dog and the smile
returned. "During the hunt one of the men broke his legs falling
down a ravine and his horse didn't survive the drop. We separated
in search parties to try and find him – I, well, Wolf found the man
attempting to fend off a pack of feral wolves by himself… Usually
they don't attack humans but that winter was particularly cold and
I don't think they had had much luck with game of their own…

"The soldier and I managed to kill three –
but Wolf did two all on his own. He couldn't have been more than
six months at that time. It's how he got his name. After that, Wolf
was a hero of his own right so my father let the kennel master keep
him on."

"Yet the palace cats tease him?" I raised a
brow.

Darren chuckled. "Well, those cats are
smarter than most humans. You should see how the cook rants
whenever one of his prized chickens goes missing. And it must
happen at least once a week. They are merciless."

I rubbed Wolf's belly, pleased to note the
anxiety I'd been feeling had all but disappeared. Wolf was making
excited yips and rubbing his back against the ground so that Darren
and I had no choice but to continue patting his stomach. "This one
seems pretty smart on his own accord."

Darren grinned. "Wolf has had me wrapped
around his finger since the day we met. There hasn't been a day
gone by that I've been in the palace and not visited this kennel.
Before I joined the Academy he used to roam the training grounds
during the day and watch me drill. All of the servants, even my
training master, loves him, and Wolf always knew better than to go
near the gardens where the courtiers were likely to complain-"

"
He better not be with that filthy animal
of his!"

Darren and I glanced at each other: both of
us recognized Prince Blayne's angry voice coming from the entry to
the kennels. He couldn't be more than two minutes away.

"
Why he thinks it's appropriate to come
here before seeing to his family is
-"

"This way." Darren hastily stood and pulled
me up, leading me to the back of the enclosure. He gave a nod to
Heath and the man strode off in the direction of the heir with a
smirk. A moment later I heard him and Blayne exchange words –
Blayne demanding to see the inside of the kennels and Heath
insisting he hadn't seen Darren all day.

"Let's go."

I turned sharply and saw a doorway I had
never seen before, it had come from one of the panels in the wall.
"Where did-"

Darren yanked me through the door and slammed
it shut just as Blayne's voice reached the hounds' enclosure.

"You see, your highness? Darren never-" I
didn't get to hear the rest of their conversation, Darren was
already dragging me behind him through a musty corridor that was
hard-packed stone and completely dark except for the light Darren
had cast in his palm.

I crinkled my nose - the entire passage
smelled like mold and cold, dank earth. "Where
are
we?"

"The servant's use this tunnel to feed the
animals. It's the shortest route directly through the kitchens.
Cook gives them the leftover scraps – it helps the hounds keep up
their stamina. Blayne doesn't know about it because he had never
stopped to bother himself with…" Darren cut himself off, and I just
knew he had been about to say something very derogatory about the
crown prince.

"Blayne would see through your disguise?" I
teased.

"Unfortunately, my brother is suspicious of
everyone." Darren's tone wasn't particularly enthusiastic. "And
with you there in a place you would never have been otherwise, he
would have almost certainly guessed it was me… Ah, here's the
door." Darren did something to the wall and a door swung open to a
very hot room teeming with steam and the tempting aroma of fresh
roast and stewed vegetables.

"What's this – why is a beggar woman in my…?
Oh, please excuse me, your highness, I haven't seen you in that
costume for quite some time." A hefty man in cook's robes flushed,
cheeks red as cherries.

Darren patted the man's arm cheerfully. "It's
okay, Benny, just tell me if Blayne has already been down here." He
strode forward and snaked two peeled oranges from a large bowl on
the counter.

"You put them back – those are for my
marmalade!" The cook strode forward and snatched the fruit back
with a huff. I smiled to myself. The man might be a servant but he
was particular about his craft, even around the prince. "And, yes,
your insufferable brother has already been down here twice asking
if any of us have seen you. He's in quite a tiff, that one, raging
about my kitchens and putting everyone in distress even though we
have double the food to cook now that the apprentices are here. I
told him you were probably with that mutt, he didn't seem too happy
about it – and I can see from where you've just come that I was
indeed correct."

Darren grinned. "We just missed him."

"Well, he's set to check the training grounds
next so you've bought yourself a half hour before he returns."

"Thanks, Benny."

"Thank me by telling me who this young lady
is. I must say I like her looks a lot better than that Priscilla
who is always insulting my scones."

"This is Ryiah." Darren held my hand tight.
"She is – well, let's just say there will be some big changes
before I leave."

The man clapped his hands excitedly. "Does
this mean…?"

"Don't say anything to the others, don't even
think
it," Darren warned. "I need to speak with Father
first. If he hears a rumor, it will destroy any chance I have of
convincing him and you will be stuck with Priscilla forever."

The man drew two fingers across his lips,
indicating he would keep silent. "The day that horror can't dictate
my scones will be the day I take a wife."

Darren snorted in disbelief. "Well, Ryiah and
I had better be off so we don't catch Blayne in one of his
moods."

"When is he not? It was nice to meet you,
Lady Ryiah. I can tell you that anyone who takes Miss
No-More-Raisins-In-My-Scones' place is a welcome addition to my
kitchen. Especially such a pretty red-headed one as yourself."

I looked away shyly and Darren elbowed
Benedict. "Enough flirting with the lady."

The cook winked at me. "Ohhh, I think he's
jealous. Good, you'll need to keep this one on his toes – he gets
too sure of himself if there is no one to challenge him."

Darren's gaze slid to me and he grinned. "Oh,
she challenges me all right. Since the day we met."

I felt myself blushing from head to toe.

"Until we meet next time, Benny?"

The cook nodded and Darren led me through the
back of the servants' hall to the fourth floor of the palace.

"Ryiah?" Darren had just asked me a
question.

I startled. "Huh?"

"I said, did you want to see the Council's
chamber? Usually it's off limits but I know they are in the war
chambers with the commanders and my father right now-"

"Of course I do!" I squealed.

Darren raised both brows, trying to hide a
grin. "If I knew I could get that response, I would have done this
a lot sooner." He led me down a narrow corridor to the right, and
up another flight of stairs past stained windows and powerful
tapestries of previous kings. We must have walked another ten
minutes before we finally found ourselves in front of an elaborate
set of doors, stained black with metal engravings that stated,
"Council of Magic: Official Chambers" and then in smaller writing,
"Do not interrupt – meetings are by appointment only, please see
Artemis to schedule."