Apprentice (The Black Mage #2)



That same night I arrived at my chambers and shut the door softly behind me. It was only after I heard the lock click into place that I let myself breathe. I felt myself slip to the floor, fingers tracing the wooden panels above as my heart pounded traitorously hard in my chest.

Why did I do this to myself? Why did he have to be kind? Why couldn't he be cruel? It wasn't fair. Darren had broken my heart. And he was continuing to shatter it every time he looked at me.

We couldn't be friends. We couldn't be enemies.

So what were we?





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It was the worst winter I could remember. We could see every breath we took. Thick, dense white frost took over our sight. Ella and I were beyond miserable.

Then we were deployed in one of the keep's regular patrols.

"What do you mean, we have to camp in the snow?" my friend whispered, outraged. She was smart enough not to speak in Master Byron's presence, of course.

"For this next week I want you to go completely without using your magic," the training master had said. "Absolutely no casting. Unless we come across a raid, I want you to learn how to survive a harsh winter climate without using your powers. The soldiers and knights do it all of the time. This will help prepare you for a position in the northern regiment. Your magic will be needed for battle, not comfort, and as such I expect the next seven days to reflect this. Afterward, we will resume our regular lessons."

"Madness," I told her, grinning, "absolute madness."

She elbowed me. "Don't mock me, Ry. By the second night you, too, will be wishing for summer."

"Not as much as my dear brother, I expect."

Ella blushed. "Yes," she admitted ruefully, "I suppose I'm not the only one."

"He wants to marry you, you know."

"I know." Her face was in flames. "I'd be a fool to say anything but yes. I love the both of you more than what is healthy, I am sure. My parents will undoubtedly consider me a traitor to my heritage."





****





"Commander Nyx!"

The woman paused. "Yes, apprentice?"

"You asked me to find you if I remembered anything strange?"

The commander's hurried expression quickly changed into one of keen interest. "Yes, Ryiah, I am so sorry. Please forgive me, my mind was elsewhere."

I shifted from one foot to the next. "I'm sure it is nothing of importance," I stammered, "but my friend said something…'" I was sure I looked foolish. I felt like a fool, that was for certain. But when Ella had called herself a traitor, I'd been plagued with nightmares of that battle. Every night for the next month I'd been unable to dream of anything else.

And then I'd remembered.

"She called herself a traitor. She didn't mean it, of course. But it reminded me of that day. One of the mages said something very similar. He was arguing with his leader whether or not to take me as a hostage, and she asked him if he really wanted to defy their orders. She said 'two times a traitor would only bring a slow and painful death.' I didn't think it then, but now it struck me as an odd thing to say… What did she mean? Why would a Caltothian be 'two times a traitor?'"

The commander smiled. She never smiled. It made every inch of my skin crawl. "Have you ever considered a position up north?" the woman wanted to know. "Ferren's Keep, perhaps?"

My ill ease was immediately forgotten. Was she offering me a position? Before my ascension ceremony? "I have thought about it." I tried to keep the excitement from my response.

"Well, if you decide that answer is yes, you would be guaranteed a place in my regiment."

I couldn't breathe. "Really? But you don't even know my rank yet, and Byron…"

"I judge a person by their merits, not hearsay," the woman interrupted. "And you, my dear, have impressed me far more than any of your factionmates. You passed an initial test half your year failed, and then you saved my regiment. If I were to go by hearsay then I must tell you the northerners are singing you nothing but praise. Either way, you will always have a place in my keep." She reached out to grasp my arm firmly. "We need more fighters like you, Ryiah."

"And Darren," I said weakly. "He helped save your regiment too."

The commander's gaze seemed far away. "Yes," she said, "I suppose he did." Then her focus cleared. "Nonetheless, I am sure he will be stationed close to the palace. Darren might be a mage, but he is still a prince. I believe the king has been generous in allowing him to spend so much time abroad."

I nodded, feeling silly I had forgotten. Of course he would not accept. The prince would serve a much higher rank close to home in the Crown's Army.

I didn't understand why I had felt it necessary to remind her of his prowess. The whole country knew. Was I so desperate to spend the rest of my life fighting alongside him? I should have been happy to finally free myself after spending so much together. Why in the name of the gods was I trying to keep him here?





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