Master of Sorrows (The Silent Gods #1)

‘Get out of here,’ said Master Edra.

Annev bowed, shocked by the closeness of his escape. He swallowed bile and forced himself to stroll over to the nave’s ironbound doors. He opened the portal but had to jump back as the Master of Operations strode into the room. When the ink-spattered man spotted the Master of Shadows, he waved to him.

‘Duvarek! Get yourself cleaned up. You’re going to Banok tonight with Master Keyish.’

Annev paused at the door, listening as Duvarek groaned.

‘It’s the first night of Regaleus, Carbad. Can’t it wait?’

Carbad shook his head. ‘Tonight. Janak’s got his hands on a dark rod.’

Duvarek swore. ‘All right. Let me eat first. I haven’t had a gods-damned thing today.’ The two men walked through the open doorway and Annev slipped through behind them with a tremendous sense of relief. He forced himself to walk slowly down the corridor, double-checking that his glove was firmly in place, but as soon as he rounded the corner he sprinted through the hallways, racing to escape the Academy’s claustrophobic walls.

As Annev ran down the dimly lit passages, guided as much by memory as by sight, his mind raced too. He marvelled at how quickly the day had passed, fuelled by nothing but adrenaline. He’d saved Lem, beaten Fyn, been betrayed by Therin, and touched Myjun. He’d also won an impossible challenge and gained a mysterious advantage in tomorrow’s Test of Judgement. He might need to eat and rest, but his mind was buzzing with the thrills of the day, and his feet felt light despite his fatigue.

Annev dashed through the great hall and sprinted for the double set of massive doors that guarded the entrance to the Academy. He had missed lunch with Sodar, but today’s classes had ended earlier than usual, so coming home would still surprise the priest.

Annev passed under the Academy’s arched gateway, where both the inner and the outer doors had been propped open, then half ran, half slid down the worn stone steps to Chaenbalu’s central plaza.

As Annev outran the Academy’s shadow, the familiar sights and smells of Chaenbalu washed over him. Out here, surrounded by the villagers, he felt energised by his dual positions at the Academy and chapel. His role as a deacon came with few perks, but he enjoyed the journey between the Academy and the chapel – it was a small privilege that no other student had.

Across the plaza, Annev heard the muted thumps of a hammer pounding leather sounding from the cobbler’s workshed. On the other side of the carpenter’s shop, Rafela and her grumpy husband Lorn were pulling a slab of fresh-baked bread from the oven. The smell of it sharpened Annev’s hunger.

‘Afternoon, Annev!’

Annev slowed to see the village’s one-eyed blacksmith striding across the square with a heavy block of pig iron resting on one shoulder. The swarthy man paused to shift the raw metal from one shoulder to the other.

‘Afternoon, Sraon!’

‘Late for lunch? Or have the ancients tired of you already?’

Annev stopped, always pleased to see the blacksmith and enjoy his strange, lilting accent. Sodar described it as ‘muddled nauthron’, though that had meant little to Annev; in a community so sheltered from the outside world, any novelty was enjoyable. The eyepatch that covered his missing eye set Sraon even further from what most villagers deemed normal. Naturally, Annev had taken a quick liking to him. He grinned.

‘Both, I suppose. I beat the masters’ test so they sent me packing early.’

‘Jings! Not the test?’

Annev shook his head. ‘That’s tomorrow. Today was more of a … practice test.’

Sraon grunted, shifting the bolt of iron over again. ‘Well and good. I hope you pass. Would be a shame to have forged that ring for naught.’ Annev bit his lip and Sraon laughed to see it before heading to his smithy on the east side of the Academy.

Probably shouldn’t have told him so much about Myjun, Annev thought, slowing. He had spoken freely to Sraon while the smith had forged Myjun’s promise ring. He doubted the blacksmith would share his secret with anyone, but if Annev didn’t earn his avatar title tomorrow then Sraon would know what he had lost and the thought made Annev uncomfortable. He had to be more careful about the secrets he chose to share with others.

He circled the Academy walls until he reached the well at the centre of the village. From there, Annev could see Sraon’s open-air smithy and beyond it, at the easternmost edge of Chaenbalu, he could just see Sodar’s chapel. Annev ran towards it, passing the first row of houses and the back of the smith’s home. He slowed, then ducked into the alley separating Sraon’s forge and smithy from the cobbler’s. As soon as he emerged from the alleyway, he sped up again, only to be caught off guard by another greeting.

‘Annev!’

He spun on the ball of one foot and skidded to a halt facing the speaker. Suddenly his heart was beating harder than when he’d been sprinting. He smiled.

‘Hello, Myjun.’





Chapter Thirteen




Seeing Myjun was both a surprise and a delight. A tremor ran through his body as she gave him a smile, followed by guilt that he had touched her without her permission.

‘You left before I could apologise,’ Annev said.

‘Apologise?’

Annev nodded. ‘For touching … in the dark. I was just looking for the badges. I didn’t mean to …’ He swallowed, uncertain what he was trying to say. ‘I’d never hurt you.’

Myjun’s voice was light with amusement. ‘I wasn’t offended. You were trying to win, to get every advantage in tomorrow’s test.’

Annev nodded, grateful Myjun understood. ‘What about … leaving you those badges? I don’t think Kiara liked that.’

Myjun’s smile transformed into a mischievous grin. ‘No … but it was what I’d hoped you would do.’

‘Oh?’

The mischief spread to Myjun’s eyes. ‘Of course. I wanted my wit-sisters to win, but I didn’t want you to lose either. That’s why I tripped Coshry, and why I let you stun me.’

‘Tripped? Wait … you let me stun you?’

Myjun flipped her hair back, amused by the question. ‘Did you think otherwise?’

‘Well … yeah.’

She laughed. ‘You’re sweet, Annev. Yes, I let you stun me. I trusted you’d let me keep a few medallions – and that worked out, too.’

Annev shook his head. Myjun had been a step ahead the whole time. It cheapened his victory somewhat, yet he felt he had still earned it.

‘Yeah,’ he agreed, ‘it all worked out.’ He leaned in, then caught himself, looking around to see if others were watching their private exchange. ‘So,’ he said, a smile in his voice, ‘why are you out here instead of with the witwomen?’

‘I had to collect Father’s shoes from Greusik.’ Myjun wiggled her left arm and Annev saw she was carrying a pair of large leather sandals. In her other hand she held a cloth-covered wicker basket. The smell of warm bread came from it and Annev’s stomach rumbled.

‘You were quick. I ran all the way here.’

‘I was hoping I might see you.’

‘Oh,’ Annev said, surprised and pleased. ‘Well, here I am.’

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