Finished with the forms, I looked around the storage room for something I could use for weapons practice. My crescent knives or chakrams would have been ideal, but I would settle for any implement that could be fashioned into a staff or blade. If I did find a way to break out, I would likely have to go up against some of the guards, and I needed to be prepared for that.
I was just contemplating the idea of breaking off the legs of an old chair and fashioning them into stakes I could hide in my boots when I heard movement at the door.
“What are you doing in here?” Elgarion asked, stepping into the room. His dark eyes narrowed as he surveyed the space, no doubt noticing that I’d moved things around.
I folded my arms and arched a brow. “I thought I was allowed to go wherever I wanted, so long as the door wasn’t locked?”
Elgarion pressed his lips into a thin line. “That’s true, but it seems like you’re looking for something.”
I blinked. I was still holding the chair in my hands… upside down. I righted it hastily and set it back down on the dusty stone floor. “I was just taking a break from training.”
“You mean self-defense?” A smug look crossed his face as his eyes scanned my form, lingering on the sheen of sweat that marked my forehead and exposed arms. “I wouldn’t waste your time on that, hybrid. You’re not going to live much longer, and any mage could easily best you regardless of your physical skills.”
“Are you interested in my ‘physical skills’?” I purred, closing the distance between us. Elgarion took a step back as I fluttered my eyelashes at him, wanting to wipe the smug look off his face for once. “Is that why you’re following me around?”
“W-what? No!” His pale skin flushed, and I heard his pulse speed up. “I’m just doing my job! I would never have such lascivious thoughts, especially about a hybrid like you.”
I ignored that jab as I leaned in closer to him. It helped that I knew I was getting to him, but I was also getting used to the insult.
“I’m sure you feel better telling yourself that,” I said, giving him a slow wink. “But you know what I think?”
“What?” He sounded slightly out of breath.
I straightened, raking his body with a scathing look. “I think you’re just an untried boy who hides behind his magic and his textbooks and doesn’t know anything about the real world,” I sneered. “If you think magic can protect you from everything, kid, then go ahead and try to beat me. I’ve had to take down a mage or two in my line of work, and I guarantee you’d be child’s play compared to a fully-trained mage.”
His face turned beet red, and I waited with baited breath to see what he would do next. It was true that I’d brought in a few mages, but they had been low-level ones, and I’d been armed with protective amulets and weapons. Not to mention that I didn’t really know how well-trained Elgarion was – since he was born into a mage family he would have been using magic his entire life, unlike me. Right now I had no amulets or weapons, only my natural-born talents, and I was interested in seeing whether or not my magic would work to defend me within the palace walls.
Of course, my magic would only activate if he actually tried to kill me. So maybe this wasn’t the smartest idea.
In the end, he merely bared his teeth at me in an impressive mimicry of my own sneer. “I have better things to do than deal with a lowly hybrid like you,” he said haughtily. I stifled a snicker as he turned on his heel and walked off with his nose in the air. These mages all walked around with sticks up their asses, and all it took was a little poke for them to go rigid.
With a shake of my head, I closed the door behind me, and continued my search for a weapon.
Six hours later, I wearily trudged back down to the kitchens in search of food. I’d trained until I’d exhausted myself, then dragged my butt back to my tower room to try and sleep, but between the crushing sense of loss that filled me whenever I was left alone with my thoughts and the hunger pangs that gnawed at my stomach, getting shut-eye was impossible. So I waited until I was sure that dinner had been served and cleaned up, then crept back downstairs so I could sneak some food from the larder that wasn’t rock bread and fuzzy cheese.
As I expected, the kitchen was deserted, not even a mouse hanging around to observe my theft. There was no food sitting on the countertops, so I broke into the pantry in search of something palatable. It didn’t take me long to strike gold – a loaf of relatively fresh bread on one of the shelves, and a piece of smoked salmon wrapped in butcher’s paper.
“Who knew fish and bread could make someone so happy,” I muttered as I alternated between stuffing mouthfuls of food into my mouth and into a paper bag I’d found. I could have stayed there all night scarfing down food, but even my damaged sense of self-preservation told me it would be unwise to linger.
I crammed as much food into the bag as it could possibly hold, and walked out of the pantry with a spring in my step and a smile on my face. Sure, this wasn’t a five-star meal, but it was better than stale bread and cheese, and I was looking forward to hightailing it back to my room so I could enjoy it.