Friends? But what about Ella?
Immediately I remembered what I had been forgetting. “What about Ella and your brother?” I burst out. “What was your excuse then?” I was thankful not all sense had left me.
Darren stopped smiling. “What in the name of the gods are you talking about, Ryiah?”
“When she was twelve, you left her all alone with your brother. You saw what he was doing and just left—”
Darren’s expression darkened. “Is that what she’s been thinking all these years?” He glowered. “Why don’t you try asking your friend if she’s sure it was her magic that saved her?”
“But she said—”
Darren made a frustrated sound and started to push past me.
“Darren, wait!” I didn’t know what to think, but I did know that I didn’t want him to leave again, not with all these unanswered questions between us. If it was true and he had been helping me all this time, if he had helped Ella too…
Darren turned to face me. His eyes were clouded and unreadable. “You need to decide whether I am the evil tyrant in your head, or a friend, Ryiah. I cannot make that decision for you, and I am done trying to earn your trust.”
I looked away. Trust and Darren? The two were opposite ends of a spectrum.
The bell tolled loudly, and I jumped as I realized I was now late to my second trial.
I felt myself go numb. What did trust matter? I would not be around long enough to find out anyway…I reached out for Darren’s arm before he could start his descent.
Immediately a heady rush of hot and cold was met with an overwhelming sense of home. I felt my breath catch. I had been prepared for the fire, but not the startling refuge that came with it. It took a moment for me to settle my emotions enough to speak.
“If we were friends.” I hesitated. “What would you say to me right now?”
Darren’s eyes met mine. “I would tell you that you could still win this, Ryiah.”
“Thank you.” I released his arm and took a step back.
Something odd flashed across the non-heir’s face. “Good luck, Ryiah.”
I felt the corners of my lips twitch, and for the first time I realized I was smiling. I gave Darren the barest of nods, and then proceeded up the stairs. Even though I would probably never earn my robes, there was a startling elation that came from thinking that maybe he thought I could.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“First-year, you are late.”
I reddened and bowed my head quickly, peeking out from under my bangs at the panel of disgruntled judges before me.
There, just as in my dream, sat Master Barclae and the Three Colored Robes. This was the first time I was really able to get a good look at the three mages who ruled the Council of Magic. Each of them looked almost unearthly in their magnificent robes. The gold trim seemed to shimmer brilliantly against the rays of the fading sun.
The Black Mage of Combat had been the one to address me. His head was shaved, and there were two golden hoops dangling from his right ear. He had dark skin and piercing green eyes, the kind that seemed as though they could see straight through to your soul. He was younger than I had expected, no more than thirty-five years at most.
“What is your name, child?”
The second person to speak was the wearer of the red robe, a beautiful blonde woman with violet eyes and full red lips. She was older than the Black Mage, but not by much.
“Ryiah.”
“Ryiah,” said the third, a formidable older man, with long brown locks and startling yellow eyes. The Green Mage of Alchemy. “You are the one who has given all those fancy highborns a reason to talk. Never in the history of the first-year trials has a student caused so much grief—or damage—to our sacred Academy.”
I swallowed uncomfortably.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” Master Barclae asked, watching me carefully.
All eyes narrowed, and I willed myself to speak, despite the wave of nausea that was fast approaching. This would be my one chance to explain, in my own words.
“I never meant to destroy that building,” I said, eyes on the ground. “I had only been trying to disarm Ray, the other student that I was up against… Someone once told me that I could use pain to call on my magic. He’d warned me that it was unstable, and I wouldn’t be able to control it if I tried.”
I forced myself to continue: “But I had nothing left. No stamina, no magic, nothing. If I didn’t try, I would have had to admit defeat and…and I couldn’t do that knowing there was still something I could use. I knew the armory was off-limits, and I know it went terribly wrong, but I had to try.” I glanced at the Colored Robes, desperation in my eyes. “If you want something as badly as I do, you can’t give up. I’m sure each of you had a moment like that, where you had to make a choice, and you chose your robe, no matter the consequences—”