The Black Mage: Apprentice (34 page)

"If you tell them you are pain casting
they'll be wary. You and Darren are the most powerful in the class.
The mentors will be too busy watching you to notice when Darren,
Ray, and I come out from behind."

"You think so?"

"It's our best chance."

****

While the others waited in the shadows of a
building to my right, I made my approach, coughing loudly in case
my footsteps weren't enough to draw the notice of the two mentors
guarding the armory Ian was in.

Lynn's face fell and Morgan didn't look too
happy either. "
Great
," the girl muttered, "I thought she had
already surrendered." I could hear the dislike in her tone. Lynn
still hadn't forgiven me for stealing Ian that night in the
desert.

"Are you really this foolish, Ryiah?" Morgan
wanted to know.

I shrugged. "I can pain cast, or did you
forget that? I can have the two of you gone like that." I snapped
my finger and then tossed my chainmail to the ground so they could
see my bare arm.

In my other hand I produced my weapon.

The door to the armory swung open to reveal
Ian who had heard the commotion outside. He frowned when he saw me
standing there alone. "It's not just you, is it?"

"Ian, run!" Lynn screeched. "Morgan and I can
hold her off –
go
!"

I slammed the halberd's axe end into my left
wrist, biting back a scream as I sent an eruption of power into the
air around me. I was hardly conscious of the pain. Raw magic had
taken over my thoughts.

I called upon every last ounce of magic I had
and launched it at the three mentors as hard as I could. I heard
their scattered cries, a series of clashing, and then, somewhere,
Ian's shouted surrender.

I started to release my magic and the ground
gave way beneath me.

Instantaneous darkness.
Victory.

"Wow. That's very impressive – two wins and
both of them as a mentee." The man laughed heartily. "Good for you,
Ryiah, I always knew you and the rest of your lot had enough fight
to do well in an apprenticeship. Who's your mentor this year?"

I grimaced and Sir Piers caught the
motion.

"Bryce?" he guessed. "That one always was too
big for his britches when I had him in my class."

"No." I shifted from one foot to the other.
"It's Ian."

"Ian?" The man's brow furrowed. "He's a bit
of a rogue but the boy's harmless. Besides... aren't the two of you
friends? I thought I saw the two of you dancing during the solstice
last year."

"We used to be."

Recognizing my discomfort, Sir Piers changed
the subject to my conditioning, eager to see if I still kept up the
same rigorous routine as my first year at the Academy.

I answered his questions easily. But the
entire time I was still thinking about Ian.

If anything, our mentorship had only become
more strained since the mock battle. The worst part of my day was
during Byron's lessons in the apprentice study upstairs. Going over
potential battle strategy with someone who barely talked to you was
tedious. It was like prying teeth from a rabid animal: you were
always afraid of the bite. I could tell Ian was still trying very
hard to be polite – painfully so - but every once in awhile his
efforts would break and there'd be a flash of anger in his eyes or
a snappy retort that reminded me just what he really thought of
me.

It had only been made worse by Byron's
evaluations. The master had delighted in tearing apart every
solution Ian and I came up with. No matter what strategy we
suggested it was never,
ever
good enough. We were the two
troublemakers the master despised, and so his lessons were just one
more way to repay our years of insolence.

Which is what had led me to the practice yard
this evening, in an effort to clear the frustration that had been
building since the day we arrived two months back. It was also,
coincidentally, how I had bumped into Sir Piers, who had been
participating in an evening regimen of his own.

"Things will get better," the big man said,
gripping me hard on the shoulder. "I know you and you are a
fighter, apprentice. Do not let anyone or anything tell you
differently."

Easier said than done. I smiled weakly. "I
appreciate your confidence."

The former commander nodded and then pointed
to a hill in the distance. "Time to get back to my run."

I watched as Sir Piers disappeared into the
night. He was right. I shouldn't let Ian's resistance dampen my
drive. There was too much at stake.

I had barely turned around when I caught
sight of Darren exiting the Academy with a training sword in hand.
As soon as he saw me his expression darkened. "Coming or
going?"

His words were so distant, it was like we
were strangers. And it hurt. "Why?" I snapped. "So you can make
sure you are not stuck in the same place as me for more than a
second?"

"I am trying to keep things civil between us,
Ryiah. Forgive me for saying so but you have never been known for
your easy temper."

"Well, my temper goes hand in hand with your
benevolence. And it is abundantly clear now that you have
none."

Darren's hand on his blade tightened. "You
don't know anything about me."

"I know
exactly
who you are." I took a
step forward, and another, until I was standing right in front of
him. Then my words turned to ice. "You are the selfish, spineless
son of a king who is too afraid to be his own man. You would rather
hide behind your status than fight for something that could
actually mean something." There, that felt
good
. "And it's a
shame, really it is, because, according to you, I was the one true
friend you had."

Something flared in the non-heir's eyes. But
it was quickly replaced by a malicious smile. "That's where you are
wrong. We were never friends, Ryiah. I was only telling you what I
thought you needed to hear."

I shoved at Darren, but he was ready and
caught me by the wrists, holding them high above my head. He leaned
in so that I was forced to stumble back.

"Do you remember our first year at the
Academy? I said something to you once, in the library." His breath
was hot on my face and my cheeks flushed – from anger or unwilling
attraction, I wasn't sure.

"I remember you saying a lot of mean things,"
I spat.

"I told you not to trust a wolf," he
continued. His words dripped like honeyed venom. "Because it would
only ever want to break you." Darren let out a small, harsh laugh.
"Haven't you figured it out yet? I'm the wolf, Ryiah. I guess what
I really should have told you was to never trust a prince, but
that's not quite as memorable."

I broke free of his grip with an angry jerk
of my hands. Then, before he realized what I was doing, I slapped
the prince across his face. Hard.

He said nothing. Which only infuriated me
more.
Say something, you coward!

Tears were spilling down my face. "I hate
you," I whispered.

Darren nodded once, and then turned and
walked away. Leaving me there. Alone.

Again.

I hate you.

****

By the time we returned to Devon after the
winter's solstice, I was more than ready to face a cold season at
camp. The frost in the Crown's Army training grounds was a welcome
distraction. With a hatred for the bitter cold I was able to forget
my unpleasant mentorship and the breaking I felt around Darren. In
a way the frozen earth was exactly what I needed.

Almost as soon as we arrived we were deployed
to assist the Crown's Army with King's Road patrols up and down the
central plains of Jerar. In truth we were probably only stationed
in the capital two or three weeks total, the rest of our time in
active duty. Since they were regular patrols, we didn't see much
battle. Most of our days were spent hunting down bandits or helping
out local regiments with their training.

I didn't get to see Derrick. We only traveled
as far north as the base of the Iron Mountains and as far south as
the Red Desert Gate. Every morning we drilled and trained alongside
the Crown's Army mages and it was during that time we really got to
learn what service would be like in Jerar's largest regiment. None
of the men or women were quite as fun as Andy from Port Langli, but
they were still very helpful in their opinions of which territories
to serve and what commanders to stay away from.

"If you want action, it's best to take a
position north," Hannah stated. She was one of the few female
Combat mages traveling in the same unit as me. "It's messy, what
with all the rebel activity and border disagreements, but it's the
best place to be if you really want to make something of yourself.
Most of the mages who enter the Candidacy have served in Ferren's
Keep or one of its nearby townships at one point or another. And if
you have any mind to become a candidate I'd suggest you do the
same."

"It's also the territory with the highest
death count," Brennan, another Combat mage, supplied. "So keep that
in mind. You might be brave and you might be strong but it means
nothing when you come across a lot of Caltothian mages and you are
without backup. My best mate died in his second year of service
because he thought he could take on five of them on his own during
a routine raid. We lose a surprising number of Combat mages up
north because of our faction's heroic tendencies. Now, it's not to
say you won't find glory – they memorialize every one of our deaths
and the Crown supports the deceased's family heavily - but every
bit of fame has its price."

Ella stared at the man curiously. "So you are
not one for fame?"

Brennan snorted. "Of course I am. I spent my
first ten years in Ferren's Keep building up a fancy
reputation."

"Why did you leave then?"

"The north is no place to start a family. If
you have half a mind to fall in love, don't do it there."

****

In no time at all we had finished our final
patrol and it was time to return to the palace for the fifth-year's
ascension ceremony.

I swallowed as I unpacked my belongings. In
one year's time it would be
my
turn.

Assuming I don't ruin my chances by stabbing
a prince or two.

I had only seen Darren and his brother once
since we arrived. I preferred to keep it that way. The little time
I had spent in their company already had been far from pleasant.
Blayne had gone out of his way to insult me, and all the while
Darren had looked at me like I was a cockroach in need of
smashing.

Yes, I was going to stay far, far away from
the non-heir and his entourage, as much as humanly possible.

Well, that's what I told myself, in any case.
And I really was doing well – until I ran into Priscilla on the
third night. The girl made a face as soon as she spotted me.

"Why aren't you at that musty old tavern with
the rest of your lowborn friends?"

I stared at her. Even for her that was
unusually curt. "I don't need to explain my actions to you." To be
honest, I was pretty sure Alex and Ella had wanted some time alone
without me tagging along. But I wasn't about to tell her that.

"You stayed behind looking for
him
,
didn't you?" Priscilla laughed brazenly and it was then that I
realized the wine goblet in her hand.

"Are you drunk?"

"No." She hiccupped. "Because if I was, I'd
be sure to throw this in that harlot's face."

For the first time it wasn't me Priscilla was
referring to. I smiled to myself and then prodded her, curious by
the sudden change in demeanor. "Who is bothering the great
Priscilla of Langli?"

"Don't mock me, lowborn, it makes you look
graceless." She covered her mouth and belched. "Like
her
.
Why don't you take a nice long stroll to the library and see
exactly why you should never fall for a man with a crown."

My pleasure instantly dissipated. There was
only one reason Priscilla would send me to see Darren and that
meant it would hurt me.
She
was upset and drinking wine at
the prospect of lost status.
I
would be broken.

I shook my head. "I have no care to see
Darren's newest conquest."

"Well Blayne sure will when I tell him how
much time Darren has spent romancing that future wife of his. Why,
the two of them have been inseparable since we got back!" She
sneered, "It's like when we were kids, only now they spend late
nights in his chambers… and no, I am not lying, Ryiah, his servants
confirmed that to me just last evening. They even took me by so I
could hear them myself." She dropped the goblet and let it clatter
to the ground.

Taking a wobbly step forward the girl grabbed
me by the shoulders and whispered loudly. "They were talking about
marriage. I heard them." She laughed haughtily. "Though why a
princess would choose the non-heir over a crown prince is beyond
me."

"I'm sure you heard wrong." The words were
thick on my tongue.

Priscilla pursed her lips and released me. "I
won't lose my chance at the throne to you
or
a Borea Isle
princess. The Crown needs my family's wealth
and
Shina's.
Blayne will put a stop to this. I know he doesn't want to waste
another year trying to secure another engagement. Blayne
has
to marry above his brother. The only two higher than Shina are the
princesses in Caltoth and Pythus, and believe me when I say neither
of those countries - or their ambassadors - like Jerar enough to
support a marriage. I know what Darren is trying to do and it won't
work. The king will never make him his heir."

Is that what this is about? Is Darren
trying to convince his father to make him crown prince?
Suddenly it all made sense. It explained why he was suddenly
pursuing Princess Shinako. He was trying to steal Blayne's
betrothed right out from under him. The non-heir was more ruthless
than I had ever given him credit for.