“I know it’s a test,” I reply, agitatedly pulling at grass with both fists. “To see how much I can take before I back down and get fasted to a man I barely know.”
“No,” Echo says, her eyes wide and sure. “It’s a test sent down by the Ancient One. You are Carnissa Gardner’s descendant. There’s a reason you look so much like her. You are meant to descend into this pit of Evil. Just like Fain in The Book. He was visited upon by every manner of evil and misfortune, remember? But it was all a test. Fain remained true, and in the end, he prevailed and was rewarded by the Ancient One. You, also, are meant to confront the Evil Ones, and you will prevail!”
“I’m not the Black Witch, Echo,” I point out, swiping at my tears. “I’m a Level One Mage. Just like you. How exactly am I supposed to prevail against Icaral demons?”
“You have the power of the Ancient One on your side,” she assures me. “If you remain true to His teachings, you will prevail!”
This is of no comfort whatsoever.
Magically, I’m a complete and utter weakling. I need help. Preferably from a Level Five Mage.
I sit bolt upright, struck by inspiration. “Where’s Lukas?”
Aislinn’s face lights up. “I know where he is, Elloren,” she says, getting up and holding out her hand to me. “I saw him earlier. He’s here for a few weeks to oversee the Second Division apprentices—that’s Randall’s division. Come on.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Weapons
I cling to Aislinn’s arm as we wind our way through the tournament fields, my wretched appearance attracting more than a few curious stares.
I spot Lukas up ahead, and a nervous jolt of energy shoots through me.
He’s surrounded by a crowd, fencing with an Elfhollen lieutenant, the Gardnerian military apprentices periodically cheering him on. Lukas’s eyes are as focused as a hawk bearing down on a small rodent as he points his sword at his opponent, a confident smile on his face.
As we approach, Lukas’s eyes flicker to meet mine, causing him to momentarily lose concentration. His opponent mock-stabs him with a capped sword tip just above the heart.
Lukas seems oblivious to the sounds of surprise going up around him and the look of shocked triumph on his opponent’s face. He cocks his head to the side, takes in my wretched appearance then turns and shakes hands with his victorious opponent, leaning in to say something to the man in the Elfhollen language. The Elfhollen laughs and responds in the strange tongue. Lukas sheathes his sword and strides over to meet us, another Gardnerian lieutenant taking his place on the field.
“Elloren, what happened to you?” he asks as he approaches. “You’re filthy.” He pulls his head back sharply. “Did someone strike you?”
“I’m in a really bad situation,” I tell him breathlessly. “I don’t know what to do.”
He narrows his eyes, then glances over at Aislinn and Echo. “Can I speak with her privately?”
“Of course,” Echo responds without hesitation. Aislinn gives me a small, encouraging smile.
Echo and Aislinn walk off as Lukas leads me to a nearby bench set under a wide tree. He gestures for me to sit down and I do. I eye his sword—the same sword he used to cut down the Icaral in Valgard. And his wand, attached to his wand belt. I’m glad to see him armed.
“I was attacked,” I tell him. “First in the kitchen, when I reported for my labor assignment—”
“Wait,” he interrupts, holding up a hand, “why are you working in the kitchen?”
“Aunt Vyvian,” I explain. “She won’t pay my tithe, so I have to work—”
“Why?” he cuts in, confused.
I hesitate before answering. He’s looking at me expectantly. There’s no way out. I have to talk about this. I take a deep breath before answering him. “She won’t pay my tithe until I’m wandfasted.”
He nods with dawning understanding. “But...” he says, in a low, affronted tone, “you don’t want to be wandfasted.”
I hold out my hands to him in supplication. “It’s nothing personal. My uncle...he’s sick.” My voice catches. “And I promised him I’d wait for two years...”
“Two years?” he spits out, incredulous.
“Until I’m done with my University studies.”
It’s clear from his expression that he thinks my uncle is an idiot, and that I’m an even bigger idiot for agreeing to this.
“Lukas,” I say, wanting him to understand, “we barely know each other.”
He’s quiet for a tense moment, regarding me with no small amount of irritation.
“I really didn’t mean to offend you.” I grip at the cool Spine-stone of the bench for support. “And I promised my uncle I’d wait to fast before I even met you.”
Lukas studies me for a long minute, one eyebrow cocked.
“Will your parents be very upset?” I reluctantly venture.
“Yes,” he says.
“I never meant...”
“They don’t realize how sheltered you’ve been. It’s becoming common for girls to be wandfasted at thirteen. Were you aware of that?”
“I’ve only just found out,” I reply weakly.
“And most people don’t get to meet first. Their parents make all the arrangements, and they meet at the fasting.”
“I...I didn’t know that.” I grip harder at the bench’s edge.
“We’re older than average, you and I. How old are you? Eighteen?”
“I’ll be eighteen in a few weeks,” I tell him, realizing something. “But that’s just what I’m talking about. I don’t even know how old you are. Regardless of how common this is, I’ve only just met you. I don’t even know you.”
He laughs at this. “Oh, I don’t know,” he says, his lip curling up at the edge, “we seem to get on pretty well.”
I color at this, remembering my aunt’s party. His lips on mine. It seems so long ago, but it’s only been a few days.
Back before my whole world fell apart.
“How old are you, Lukas?” I ask.
“Twenty.”
“Sounds like you’ve been putting off wandfasting, as well,” I point out.
His face grows hard. I can tell he’s not used to being challenged.
Why is he so touchy about this? And why isn’t he already fasted?
“Who attacked you?” he asks, completely ignoring my last comment.
“A Kelt girl named Iris, and a scary-looking Urisk girl named Bleddyn.” I describe everything that happened in the kitchen.
“That’s easily managed,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Anything else?”
I’m momentarily silenced by how blasé he is, how confident he is that this impossibly disastrous situation can be rectified.
“I was also attacked by two Icarals,” I continue. “Ariel Haven and Wynter Eirllyn. My new lodging mates.”
One of his eyebrows goes up at this. “They placed you with the two Icarals? After what happened in Valgard?”
I nod my head miserably. “They won’t let me move until I’m fasted.”
He lets out a short laugh, as if amused and impressed by my aunt’s tenacity. “Your aunt really wants you wandfasted to me, doesn’t she?”
“Apparently.”
“You do realize that all of these problems would just disappear if we marched over to Mage Abernathy’s office and agreed to be fasted? You wouldn’t need to work to pay your tithe. And you’d have your choice of lodging.”
The generosity of his offer catches me completely off guard, giving me serious pause. He’s made it to twenty unfasted, yet he’s willing to drop everything and fast to me. The incredible flattery of this fills me with a heady disbelief.
But it’s still much too fast.
“I can’t,” I say, shaking my head. “Believe me, it’s tempting, but I just can’t.”
He gives me the once-over and sighs. “Well, I guess it’s a bit of relief. No offense, but you look truly awful. Is that manure you’re covered with?”
I’m suddenly struck by the sheer outrageousness of this situation. I’m covered in barn refuse, and the most eligible man in Gardneria wants to wandfast to me.
A short laugh escapes me, and I shoot Lukas a resigned look. “Yes, it is.” I let my head fall into my hands. After a moment I’m aware of him taking a seat next to me, his arm warm against mine.
“Did the Icarals hurt you?” he asks.