Candidate (The Black Mage #3)

“Alright, I can see the two of you are too nervous to talk. Loren, how about that wall? There. Away from our favorite princeling?” Ian dragged our Loren away with a chuckle.

“So that was awkward.” Ella glanced at me as soon as the boys were out of hearing distance. “What ever happened in Ferren’s Keep? I thought the two of you were friends.”

I shook my head. “We are but…it’s complicated. I never got to tell you but—”

“FIFTH RANKS. YOU ARE UP. OUT ON THAT FIELD. NOW.”

I watched Priscilla, Lynn, and Tyra hurry out onto the field with ten others of their rank. The audience’s shrieks were deafening. No faction was more anticipated than Combat.

****

We weren’t allowed to watch the other ranks’ melees, but we could hear them. And we could hear the crowd chanting each winner’s name. Fifth rank went to a young woman named Gwyn, fourth rank to another unknown named Argus, third rank, much to my disappointment, did not go to Ella. It went to a young man, Rowan, who’d been a fifth-year apprentice when Ella and I had been second-years.

Second rank was called and Loren wished me luck. He was one of the twenty first-years still waiting to go. We had nineteen second-years. Darren’s eyes met mine briefly across the way and his lip twitched, a half-smile forming along his mouth.

“No luck?” I whispered as I passed him.

“You don’t need it.”

****

The first thing I noticed was the sun. When I stepped out into the arena I could feel it beating down my back, blistering against the crystalline glass of sand that crushed beneath my boots. It was midday and the glare was almost directly over the stadium.

I walked the five minutes—the arena was that large—to the stadium’s center with the rest of the second-rank candidates. Everyone was dressed in similar fashion, tight leather vests and loose trousers for movement. Some—like me—wore fitted armguards, or in two cases: shoulder armor. One even wore a full chest plate—something I sincerely believed they were regretting now that they were out in such a humid arena.

As I was studying the other candidates, I realized two things. One: I was the only girl in the lot. Thanks to Byron’s legacy of bias he had never awarded a good rank to any female in his time serving the apprenticeship. I was the only exception—not because I was the only girl worthy, but because it was I who had finally drawn the Black Mage’s attention to Byron’s injustice.

Two was Merrick, Priscilla’s younger cousin. Somehow that insufferable boy had finished his ascension one month before and been awarded my same rank. Considering his lack of skill, I couldn’t put it past the training master to have awarded him the rank on purpose. Byron had known my old mentee would get under my skin.

And he did. “I know we aren’t supposed to make alliances, but the judge can hardly punish us for going after the girl. She’s the weakest. We all know Byron only gave her our rank because she was betrothed to the prince.”

I was mere seconds from ripping his face off. Merrick knew Darren hadn’t proposed until after the ascension. But disputing the truth would get me nowhere.

Still, listening to some of the older men chuckle at the boy’s joke was pushing my patience. I pretended to be oblivious, listening to the herald announce the candidates. His voice rang out in the arena thanks to a mage’s assistance.

“So, Ryiah, how does it feel knowing you are going to lose?” Merrick’s voice broke my meditation, and I saw the blond mage grinning.

“How does it feel knowing Byron only gave you this rank because he knows how much I loathe you?” I spat.

“Ohhhh!” Merrick raised his hands in mock surrender. “The girl got mad. Watch out, everyone. She’s going to get us!”

My hands formed fists in reply.

“CANDIDATES, PLEASE TAKE YOUR PLACES ALONG THE ARENA. NO LESS THAN FIFTY FEET APART. IN TWO MINUTES WE WILL BEGIN THE TEN SECOND COUNTDOWN.”

I began my jog toward the edge of the stadium. I wouldn’t reach it, of course, but there was no point in keeping such close range with the others. Perhaps some of them would battle it out before they reached me. I wasn’t sure if everyone else planned to follow Merrick’s scheme, but I wasn’t about to risk it.

I was still jogging as the countdown began. Putting as much distance between myself and the others as possible. Impatience and a restless rage were pumping through my veins. As the herald declared “ONE” I realized Merrick had done me a favor.

Because now I wanted to win.

****

I can do this. I made it this far. I can do this. I repeated the mantra over and over in my head as I watched the other candidates start sprinting across the arena, each trying to get a quick layout of the field without actually engaging in battle.

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