Apprentice (The Black Mage #2)

Several of them – including Bryce - shouted insults. They stopped their own castings to brush sand off their clothes and skin, glowering. Master Byron issued the command to stop and then came barreling down the field to rest directly in front of me.

"Have you lost all common sense, apprentice? I told you to defend yourself – not show off in front of the entire faction! You are supposed to conserve your castings! Conserve!" He took a deep, exaggerated huff. "Your little display just cost you an unnecessary amount of magic. Flashy casting doesn't win a war – the mages fool enough to use it will be long dead while the rest of the enemy mages are left standing!"

Why me? If I had been anyone else Byron would have seen fit to offer a short rebuke and move on. But never with me.

"Yes, sir."

"If you can't control your castings then you don't belong in Combat."

I stayed silent.

With a satisfied grunt the master retired to his post near the second-years and called out his next command. Byron remained there for the rest of the exercise. Not once did his hawk eyes leave my face.





****





By the time our drills had ended I was ready to collapse. As soon as we were dismissed Ian brushed past me in a hurry to spend as little time together as possible. Ella joined me in my slow march to the commons. My friend knew better than to say anything. Instead, she linked elbows and sighed loudly.

Students hurried past us, eager to beat the others to the evening meal. Ella and I took our time. This year was different and neither of us had been prepared for how much.

When Byron had first announced our new city was Devon I had thought it a joke. A very cruel, very pointed joke.

And then, after we returned from picking up the second-years, I'd found out he was serious.

We really were in Devon.

The capital was different. Ishir Outpost and Port Langli were important, but neither of them could compare to a regiment ten times their size. The Crown's Army trained, if it was at all possible, harder than anyone else.

The army was so large the capital had built four training arenas – a small one inside the palace walls for the King's Regiment, and three much bigger grounds outside the township where the army's soldiers, knights, and mages spent their days endlessly drilling until they were called upon for service. It was a good ten-mile ride east of the palace. The site housed an enormous armory, an equally large stable, two bathhouses, two outhouses, a giant cook's camp, and an impressive expanse of tented housing just south of its arenas.

It was the city regiment we had the highest chance of being placed in after our ascension. That was the first thing Byron had told us when we arrived the night before. It was for that reason alone I had dried my eyes, taken a deep breath, and told myself to forget the past three weeks.

I needed to toughen up quick, or risk becoming the laughingstock of not just my faction but the Crown's Army.

That, and I was done with my body's traitorous reaction any time the prince looked at me. I couldn't survive two more years of this apprenticeship if I let myself feel. I was done with misery. I would not let my learning be squandered by a broken heart.

"Ry! Ella! What took you two so long?"

I made a face at my twin. "It's been a long day." Alex was already seated on one of the outdoor tables with a mountain of noodles piled high on his plate. Beside him sat a couple of his factionmates and Loren and Ray – none of which had half the servings my brother did.

Ella's mouth hung open in shock. "You know the cook has to feed the whole camp, right?"

Alex grinned. "Only the ones that arrive on time. After that it's fair game."

I snatched a roll off his plate before he could stop me. "After that we'll just take it from you."

My twin rolled his eyes and then changed the subject. "How was casting? Loren was just telling me Byron yelled at you in front of the entire faction."

"How is that different from any other day?"

Alex didn't let it go. "What did you do?" He lowered his voice. "Please tell me you finally gave the prince the thrashing he deserves-" My brother didn't get to finish. Ella had elbowed him, hard, in the chest.

I stared at the sky in frustration. I wanted to move on. I did. But no matter how hard I tried there was always something or someone there to remind me. Alex knew this, of course. Since the ascension ceremony he had tried to keep his outrage to a minimum, but it still slipped out whenever he wasn't careful.

Alex swallowed guiltily. "Sorry, Ry."

I stood up, ready to fill up a plate of my own and leave the uncomfortable exchange behind. "Don't be. If I couldn't be imprisoned for attacking a king's son I probably would have done just that." I left the table without waiting for a response.





****





A flurry of days, and then weeks, swept past before I even had a chance to catch my breath. I quickly got used to the stifling conditions of Devon's giant training camp and the constant presence of the king's court in our early morning practices. I even got used to interpreting the stony silence of my mentor.

Rachel E. Carter's books