The Queen of Blood (7 page)

From one of the circular platforms above, the teacher dropped into the practice ring. She put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. The wolf halted and then trotted to her side. She scratched between its ears and dug a treat from her pocket.

The girls began to return. “That's your
pet?”
Merecot asked.

“Tell me what you learned just now,” the teacher said.

Merecot folded her arms. “Don't trust teachers with pet wolves.”

Mari raised her arm. “Don't assume wolves are safe just because they haven't attacked. We should have already been reacting, instead of having a discussion. Not everyone knew he was your pet.”

“You knew,” the teacher said to Mari, “but you didn't share that information.”

Many sets of eyes glared at Mari. She stuck her chin out. “It was a lesson,” Mari said. “I didn't think I was supposed to.” Daleina shook her head, wanting to say they weren't in competition—they were all here to learn. But she knew that wasn't exactly true.

“You withheld knowledge,” the teacher said. “And the rest of you posited impractical solutions. You must work with the power you have.”

“It wasn't impractical,” Merecot argued. “I could have done it.”

“You
didn't,”
the teacher said.

“You wouldn't have liked it if I'd killed your pet.”

To Daleina's surprise, the teacher didn't point out the obvious fact: Merecot hadn't known the wolf was the teacher's friend, yet she still hadn't used any power. To be fair, it hadn't even crossed Daleina's mind to call on any spirits either. It had all happened fast.

“Today in survival class, you will use the resources you have to evade my wolf. Anything else in the ring is yours to use. But you may not summon any spirits—that class will begin tomorrow.” Letting her words sink in, the teacher met the eyes of each girl. “I would prefer it if you didn't kill him, just as we would all prefer it if you didn't wantonly kill anyone or anything. Save yourselves, and do no harm. Let that be your mantra during your years here and beyond.
Do no harm.”
Last, the teacher met Daleina's eyes. “You, girl in the tree. You will assist my wolf.”

Daleina gulped.
Me again?
She didn't know if it was good or bad that teachers kept calling on her. From the looks of pity the others were shooting her, she guessed bad. “I'm sorry, Master”—she paused, not knowing the teacher's name—“but I don't understand.”

“You already showed you can survive. Come down here, and show me you can thrive.” Hands on her hips, the teacher surveyed them all. “You will call me Master Bei. The wolf is Bayn. Come on, girls, look lively. Bayn wants another treat. Rule is: his teeth touch you, and you're out.”

As the other girls scattered around the practice ring, Daleina climbed down the tree and cautiously approached Master Bei and Bayn. The wolf watched her with yellow eyes. Daleina had seen enough wolves on the forest floor to know this wasn't a wolf-dog hybrid. This was pure wolf. Keeping her distance but trying not to look as if she were keeping her distance, Daleina approached their teacher. She stopped several yards away.

Master Bei's lips quirked, as if this amused her. “Bayn is well trained. Keep him safe and help him hunt.”

“You want me to
hunt
the other students?” Daleina wondered if Master Bei was really a teacher, or if this was another test of some kind, to see whether she was gullible enough to turn on her new classmates. “I can't do that.” The other students weren't her enemies, right? Or was she utterly naïve?

“You will, if you want to pass this class. And if you don't pass, you don't stay.”

D
aleina held her hand out, palm up, as if the sleek, muscled, rather-hungry-looking wolf were just a skittish puppy. The wolf ignored her. Daleina put her hand down. “Okay, Bayn, um, we need to find the other students. A lot of them will have climbed trees. So, um, you use your nose, and I'll use my eyes, and we'll search, all right?” Daleina glanced at Master Bei. “How much does he understand me?”

“Completely, or so I've found. He's a highly intelligent animal. More so than most of the students I've seen pass through here, that's for sure.”

Daleina nodded. She felt as if she were on the verge of embarrassing herself spectacularly. Worse, if she failed or refused to try, she could be kicked out of the academy without finishing a day. She'd have to go back to her parents and Arin and tell them she'd washed out after a single afternoon. Her mother would act pleased, going on and on about how dangerous it was anyway. Her father wouldn't say anything but would shoot her looks that were both sympathetic and disappointed. And Arin would be crushed. She'd look at Daleina as if Daleina had ripped apart her favorite dress and drowned her doll. “Follow me,” she told the wolf.

At a jog, she plunged into the grove of trees in the center of the practice ring. Here was where the trees were tallest, the best
choice for climbing to safety. As soon as she entered, she slowed. The wolf's paws were silent on the path, and Daleina switched to walking silently as well, stepping over twigs and dried leaves and tiptoeing across moss and roots. All kids from the outer villages learned to walk through the woods quietly.

Kids from cities . . . did not.

She and the wolf heard two tromping through the underbrush, loudly, ahead of them. “Go get them, Bayn.” The wolf darted forward, and she followed, arriving in time to see him nip at the heels of first one, then the other girl. Both of them shrieked, even though he didn't break skin.

In a nearby tree, Daleina spotted a flash of red—there, another student. The girl was puffing as she climbed higher, slowly and painfully. The scrawny tree bent and swayed as the girl climbed. She must have chosen it because of all the easy branches that jutted ladderlike from the trunk, but the trunk was too pliable. If she climbed much higher, the tree would bow beneath her weight. She seemed to realize that, though, and stopped climbing. An idea began to form in Daleina's head.

Circling the tree, the wolf looked up at the girl.

“Be ready,” Daleina told the wolf. She scurried up a nearby tree, scrambling from branch to branch, keeping to the side of the trunk away from the other student, out of sight. Soon, she'd climbed higher than the student. When she was even with the top of the scrawny tree, Daleina stopped and gauged the distance. She was reasonably sure the tree was healthy enough not to snap. If it bent slowly . . .
This could work,
she thought. Or it could be a painful disaster. Question was: How badly did she want to stay in the academy?

Do it,
Daleina told herself.

Jumping off her tree, she landed on the scrawny tree. It bent under her weight, bowing. Clinging to the tip, Daleina rode the tree downward. The other girl screamed and hugged the trunk as it dipped toward the ground—and the wolf.

The wolf nipped lightly at the girl's leg, not leaving a mark, and then howled.

Gotcha
.

She began climbing down the trunk. The lower she got, the more the trunk lifted back into the air, until Daleina reached the other student. “Sorry,” Daleina told her. “Did the wolf hurt you?”

The other student shook her head without saying anything.

“You can probably climb down now.”

The other student nodded but didn't move.

Daleina tried to remember if she'd heard any teachers say her name. “Lyda? Is that your name? Are you hurt?”

The girl's eyes were wide as a deer after it felt an arrow in its haunch, but she shook her head. “Just going to . . . rest here . . . for a minute. That was . . . I think, maybe, I hate it here.”

“It's just the first day.”

“That's what scares me.”

Daleina hesitated for a moment, and then maneuvered past her and climbed down to the ground. She couldn't help with Lyda's epiphany. “Next?” she asked the wolf.

His tongue hung out of the side of his mouth like a happy dog.

In the end, they only caught three more: one who had hidden behind the waterfall, another who had tried to camouflage herself in the dirt, and a third who tried to trick Bayn into a trap, which Daleina spotted because it was the kind of trap her father used all the time.

When Master Bei called them all back, Daleina trotted beside the wolf. She didn't know if she'd done well or not, and Master Bei didn't say, but she resolved to find a treat for Bayn as soon as she could.

I
T WAS NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE TO STAY AWAKE DURING DINNER
. A
LL
the new students sat together, crammed side by side, on a few benches. Caretakers served a stew, ladling spoonfuls into bowls, while the students passed around a chewy nut-flour bread stuffed with dried berries. Daleina dipped the bread into her soup and forced herself to eat—she knew she'd need the energy for whatever waited for them tomorrow. Plus there was still reading to do and papers to start. And as Lyda said, this was only day one.

“Do you think it gets easier?” Revi groaned. “I mean, they're just hazing us, right? Throwing us into full-fledged classes
after we just finished the maze. It'll be better next week.”

“Obviously it gets harder,” Merecot said, helping herself to another chunk of bread. Of all of them, she was the only one who didn't look exhausted, though Daleina noticed she still had a streak of dirt in her hair. She must have hidden from Bayn on the ground, an unusual choice. She was surprised he hadn't sniffed her out. Thinking of the wolf, she sneaked a strip of meat into a napkin to feed him later. “If you can't take it—”

“Why are you obsessed with what others do?” Linna asked. “Any number can be heir. The more heirs there are, the safer Aratay is. The queen would be delighted if all of us were chosen to be candidates.”

“Only one can be
queen
,” Merecot said. “And it will be me.”

All of them rolled their eyes at her.

Merecot shrugged and ate another spoonful.

“We're a long way from becoming queen, any of us,” Revi said, and groaned again. “I think I left half my skin on the bark of that tree. Why oh why did you have to get us all climbing trees, Daleina?”

“It's the most logical way to escape a wolf. Won't work with cats. Or snakes. Certain bears.” Daleina thought of the bears that roamed the forest floor beneath near her old village. All the berry patches had to be guarded every autumn, but keeping the stores above worked fine. “Haven't you climbed before?”

“I live in the capital,” Revi said. “We use bridges like civilized people. And ladders. A few of the shopping areas even have rafts on pulleys that you can ride on to travel from tree to tree. Yes, woodsgirl, we don't all get around like squirrels.”

“Where did you learn to climb like that?” another girl asked. “Hi, I'm Evvlyn. You almost caught me today. I was two trees over from you when Master Bei called time.” Daleina recognized her—she was one of the girls who had come out of the maze before her. She had multicolored hair, cut short enough so you could see her scalp. Tattoos of birds trailed up her neck and behind her left ear.

“I'm from an outer village, midforest,” Daleina said. “This is my first time anywhere near the capital. My family and I came just for the entrance exam.” She felt a lump in her throat that she
was sure wasn't a wad of bread. By now, Arin and her parents had to be heading home. It cost too much to stay in the capital, and there was still so much to be done to prepare for the winter storms. She wondered if they'd stopped somewhere to eat too, if they'd camped or found a way station, and hoped they'd set up enough charms and were being careful. She knew they knew how to take care of themselves. It wasn't as if they needed her. But still . . . “How about you? Where are you from?”

“North, near the border with Semo,” Evvlyn said. “My parents are border guards.”

The others introduced themselves as well, a dozen at their table, all the new students. Daleina realized that the one she'd caught in the tree, Lyda, was missing and wondered if she'd quit. She hoped not. She didn't like thinking that quitting was an option. She'd rather think of this as something she had to do, like hauling firewood or helping the hedgewitch with her toenails. Except with more magic.

The older students were clumped together and didn't look nearly as exhausted, except for the oldest students, who ate without speaking. Daleina studied them. There were only four of them, and they shared a table with the headmistress, but they didn't look up from their stew. They ate as if it were their sole task in the world. One of them twitched every time someone passed near her.

“What's wrong with them?” Evvlyn asked.

“There's a champion here who wants to choose a candidate,” Mari said with the air of someone who knows everything that's going on—which she most likely did, as the head caretaker's daughter. “The teachers always push the oldest ones the hardest, hoping she'll pick one of them. Don't worry. That won't be us for a long time.”

Watching them, Daleina barely tasted her stew. If that was what students looked like
after
they'd been trained . . . But just because it wasn't easy, that didn't mean it wasn't worth it.
I can do this
. She had the feeling she was going to be telling herself that a lot. The key was to never doubt it, which was hard when she felt her doubts and fears pitching tents in the back of her mind,
sparking a fire, and settling in for the long haul. She knew she wasn't powerful enough, smart enough, clever enough, knowledgeable enough, talented enough . . .

Stop it,
she told herself, but her doubts just ignored her and roasted a sausage over their campfire.
Stupid mind
. She wondered if Headmistress Hanna had felt any self-doubt when she faced the spirits at the Massacre of the Oaks. Or Queen Hunerew when she rode a hurricane out to sea to protect the islands of Belene. Or Queen Phia when she commanded the spirits to grow the first city in Aratay, the Southern Citadel, on the shores of the Iorian Sea. Or . . .

“Is everyone ready for tomorrow?” Linna asked.

“Why? What's tomorrow?” Daleina asked.

“Tomorrow is when we learn who really deserves to be here,” Merecot said, as if relishing the idea of people quitting. “Our first summoning class. Better not get too friendly with anyone. Not all students survive their first summoning.”

Putting down her spoon, Daleina didn't feel like eating anymore. In fact, she felt sick. “Truly? Students have
died?”

Merecot began to nod solemnly and then broke into laughter. “I don't know. It's my first day too. But you should have seen the look on your face.”

“It's official,” Revi announced to the table. “I don't like her.” The other students glared at Merecot too, at least those who had enough energy left to glare.

“I don't need you to like me,” Merecot said, still smiling. “I only need to win.”

H
EADMISTRESS
H
ANNA HAD PERFECTED THE ART OF EATING
while watching her students without appearing as if she were watching her students while she ate. It was the only way the students would eat enough. She'd found over the years that if they thought she was observing them, they'd universally lose their appetite. She had enough students passing out from exhaustion as it was. She didn't need to add to that number with malnutrition. Digging into her stew with gusto, she peeked at them as she swallowed.

“New crop of students seems promising,” Master Klii said.

The headmistress didn't answer. All new crops seemed promising, so full of hope, until it was drained out of them. She tore a hunk of bread off a loaf and dipped it in her stew. By the time they reached their final year, most were shells. She looked at the older students, their eyes downcast, their shoulders slumped. She didn't know if any had the inner strength left to become viable heirs. “Tell me, Klii, what do we do here? Do we build heroes, or break them?”

Master Klii stared at her as if she'd sprouted spirits out of her ears. “Headmistress?”

Hanna forced a small laugh. “Ignore me. I'm having a pensive day.” The arrival of a new set of students always made her feel this way, as if she were taking young innocents and robbing them of their childhood, never mind that the students volunteered and were always welcome to leave. Children couldn't possibly understand what they were being asked to give up, and by the time they realized it, they were too immersed in this life to imagine any other way.

One of the caretakers scurried over to her and whispered in her ear. “Urgent message for you in your office.”

Hanna put her goblet down and rose.

All eyes turned toward her, and conversation ceased. “Continue your meal.” But the sounds of forks and knives on plates didn't resume until after she had left the dining hall and was climbing the stairs toward her tower.

Her knees ached by the third level up. This was the flaw with choosing an office at the top of the academy. One day, her joints wouldn't be able to take it. Of course, that would probably be the day that the spirits took her, so it didn't matter.

Yes, definitely a cheerful mood today
.

She felt lighter as she climbed, as if the air were fresher higher up. Perhaps it was because she was farther from the sounds of the dining hall, or the lingering stench of sweat from the practice ring, or perhaps it was only an illusion. With the sun low in the sky, it didn't penetrate the heart of the academy, but it still bathed the top of the stairs.