“Let’s see if that’s true.” Lips pressed together, Karyn gestured at Cyn. She stepped away, and Karyn took her spot.
The combat between Evin and Karyn was longer and more complicated than anything that had come before. Nothing visible happened, but Ileni felt spells and counterspells weaving through the air between the combatants. Both muttered fast and furiously, their hands forming intricate patterns in the air. Cyn and Lis stood several yards from Ileni, watching.
The match finally ended with a victory Ileni didn’t catch, though she heard Evin’s grunt and Karyn’s triumphant exhale. The two stepped back from each other and inclined their heads. A strand of Karyn’s hair was plastered against her cheek, dark with sweat.
“That’s enough for today,” Karyn said. “Practice mental pathways in your rooms. Lis, you need to work on your defenses. Cyn, I will show you what you did wrong at the beginning of your match. Evin, I will stop by to make sure you’re doing what you’re supposed to and to administer punishment when I find out that you’re not.”
Her gaze moved to Ileni, who stiffened. But Karyn just nodded and vanished.
“Well, well.” Evin let out a low whistle. “Congratulations, Ileni. It’s not every day we get to see Karyn surprised.”
“What is she?” Ileni blurted.
Three surprised pairs of eyes turned on her. Ileni flushed. “I mean—is she the master of the Academy?”
“The emperor is the master of the Academy,” Lis said, as if to a child. “Karyn is the head teacher.”
“Which is, practically, the same thing,” Evin added. “Since the emperor is rather far away and has other things on his mind.”
Ileni had always been told that at the time of the Renegai exile, the emperor was merely a figurehead, and the Empire was truly controlled by the Academy. Judging by Cyn’s dismissive snort, that was still true four hundred years later.
“But how can Karyn be head teacher,” Ileni said, “when she doesn’t even have power of her own?”
Lis’s voice was like acid. “We all try to pretend that doesn’t matter.”
“We have lodestones to spare.” Evin’s voice was wary, which Ileni could already tell was unusual for him. “It’s skill that matters, not power.”
“Easy for you to say,” Lis said, but suddenly she didn’t sound spiteful. She sounded weary. “The head teacher of the Academy never has her own power. This way, she serves at the emperor’s sufferance. He gave her the magic, and he can take it away.”
A breeze blew across the plateau, cooling Ileni’s flushed face and rustling her hair. Cyn lifted her face to it. “In theory,” she murmured. “The current emperor would never dare.”
“There aren’t many people who have enough power to be worth training,” Lis added, crossing her arms over her chest. “People with small amounts of power can’t do much with it, anyhow. But those of us without any power at all can draw it from a lodestone, as much as we’re capable of holding and using.”
“Which,” Cyn said smugly, “is more for some people than for others.”
“But . . .” Ileni couldn’t find words for her horror. “Don’t you . . . don’t you mind?”
Evin’s eyes darted to her swiftly, and away, and Ileni wished fervently that she had thought before she spoke. The last thing she wanted was to give away just how much she minded. She was done with being pitied.
Cyn laughed. “I can’t answer that for you, and neither can Evin. But Lis . . .”
Lis made a rude gesture at her sister.
Cyn blew her a kiss, then turned her attention back to Ileni. “Right now, the only advanced sorcerers with their own power are me and Evin. Is it more common among your people?”
“Is it . . .” Ileni was still struggling to catch up. “Yes. Yes, it is.”
Lis snorted. “I guess that’s what happens when most of the sorcerers in the Empire go off to the mountains and spend a few hundred years inbreeding.”
“There used to be more of us,” Cyn said. “But not many. I’m told there are a couple of fourth-levels, and even more second-levels, who might have enough power to be worth training. But most of our sorcerers rely on lodestones. It’s more efficient that way, really.”
She sounded absolutely sincere, but her words passed through Ileni’s mind like a swift breeze, too foreign to leave an impression.
“You obviously don’t have your own magic anymore.” Cyn said it casually, but Ileni flinched. “It really doesn’t matter. You’ll see.” She flicked a strand of hair away from her face. “But it does mean you had better stay on Karyn’s good side—which means doing as you’re told. Let’s go.”
She walked off the end of the plateau and lifted gracefully into the air. Lis watched her sister fly away, then held a hand out to Ileni. Her expression was indecipherable. “You can fly with me.”
“How will that—”