“Any of the guard can watch her door,” Alet said as if reading his doubt. “You know as well as I do that Aratay needs a decent heir as quickly as possible. Queens don’t lead safe lives, with or without any sickness.”
Studying her, he considered it. Last time, with Daleina, he’d taken a healer with him to train her—Healer Hamon—but he’d never considered taking another warrior. He’d meant what he said: he worked alone. But Alet was one of the finest fighters he’d ever seen, and that could be invaluable. He’d met her while he was hunting the spirits who’d killed his former candidate, the heir Sata. She’d been the one who’d revealed Queen Fara’s treachery. Later, Ven had found Alet in ceremonial armor, standing guard in an inconsequential portrait room, and she’d informed him that her skills were being wasted. He’d spoken with her commander, who had said she was there as punishment—she’d bested several of the old-timers in a practice bout and hadn’t had the courtesy to salute them. Ven had told the commander precisely what he thought of that—adding a few colorful bruises in as punctuation—and the next day, Alet had been assigned to active duty. When Queen Daleina took up residence in the palace, she selected Alet to guard her and had her promoted to the rank of captain.
And yet now she wanted to leave that very post.
“Why do you want to do this?”
“Queen Daleina wants an heir.”
“And?” Ven waited.
“And I don’t want to watch her die.” Alet didn’t meet his eyes. Her gaze was fixed on the empty throne. “Call it cowardly if you want, but it’s the truth.”
But he would never say that. How could he call it cowardly when he felt the same way? He made the decision in an instant. “Very well. Our first step is to select a candidate.”
“Do you have one in mind?”
“I thought I’d start with Northeast Academy. It’s where I found Daleina.” And where Queen Fara trained as well.
“Sounds promising. Lead on.”
He strode to the stairs. Behind him, Alet followed, her feet as silent on the steps as a cat’s paws. Now that he was taking action, he felt better. Dwelling on the capriciousness of fate wouldn’t help Daleina. His queen was facing death without an heir. He couldn’t fix the first part, but he could fix the second—and he would.
Halfway down the stairs, he jumped from the steps onto the nearest tree. He landed on a branch, and it bowed under his weight. Balancing himself, he ran over the branch. Beside him, Alet leaped from a thicker branch and landed on a narrower one, running lightly across it, ahead of Ven. Heavier, Ven chose one of the ropes and swung past her. She sped up, jumping from limb to limb, and so did he. For those brief moments, Ven felt the wind on his face and allowed his mind to empty of all thoughts.
At last, they reached their destination. With a powerful leap, Ven hurled his body toward the top of the school, where the bells hung to call the students to class. He caught himself on a limb.
Six old trees wound together to comprise the training school, their bark fused into a tower. They’d been grown as a fortress to defend against air spirits and had evolved into a school for those gifted with mastery over more than one kind of spirit, one of several such schools in Aratay. Far below, within the circle of wood, on the forest floor, the practice circle was shielded by layers of leaves. A few figures darted up and down the spiral stairs.
This was where he’d found Daleina.
This was where he’d find his new candidate. He hoped.
He’d only visited a few times since Daleina had been crowned. He’d meant to be more involved, but he’d become absorbed in overseeing security at the palace, as well as recruiting and training a new champion. With his Daleina on the throne, he hadn’t wanted to think about candidates or trials or heirs yet. Shortsighted and stupid, he thought. But he’d rectify that.
“Shall we, or would you prefer to brood for longer?” Alet asked. Without waiting for an answer, she scampered from branch to branch like a squirrel, down the interior of the tree. He took the stairs, watching Alet as she swung and twisted and leaped and flipped her way down to the forest floor. Reaching the bottom, he felt a twinge in his knees after so many stairs, while Alet looked unwinded and fresh. She didn’t comment on this, though from the twinkle in her eye, he was certain she’d noticed. This might have been a mistake. Together, they strode into the practice circle.
Many of the students and teachers were there, and he was pleased to see the headmistress was present as well. Headmistress Hanna was an older woman with startlingly white hair and impeccable posture who had governed this school for as long as Ven could remember. She chose every teacher, determined every schedule, and supervised every student with the attention of a general to an army. He bowed to her as he reached her.
“Ah, Champion Ven! We did not expect you.” She clasped his hands and kissed his cheeks, right, then left. She was smiling, a rarity, and the bruise-like circles that used to be under her eyes had faded.
“You look well, headmistress,” he said. “May I present Captain Alet, member of the royal guard?”
Alet bowed, and the headmistress inclined her head before turning back to Ven. “You haven’t been to visit in a while.” It was a motherly reproach, and he winced appropriately. “What brings you here today?”
He didn’t mince words, not with her. “I came to choose a candidate.”
She studied his face for a moment. Last time, when Sata had died, he’d only chosen a candidate because the headmistress had pressured him, but that had been a different time, when he was in disgrace with the reigning queen. He tried to keep his face neutral and hoped she didn’t guess the real reason he was here. He respected her, but after Fara’s death, he didn’t trust her. She’d do what she thought was right for Aratay, damn the consequences. “Our girls were about to practice their control. You can watch them.” Hooking her arm through Ven’s, she guided him toward the students. “Of course, none are up to the caliber of dear Daleina, but I think you’ll be pleased at how nicely they’re coming along. I am certain that whomever you choose will blossom under your tutelage.” He couldn’t detect any sarcasm in her voice, even though Daleina had been far from the best student. She’d aced all of her academic classes but had floundered in summoning—the one area that really mattered here. But maybe her words weren’t for his benefit—she was rewriting the narrative of Daleina’s history for the benefit of her academy. He let her.
With Alet, he positioned himself at the edge of the practice circle. There were twenty-four students, all in soft leather uniforms, with their hair tied back and faces smudged with dirt and sweat—he’d interrupted the middle of practice. So few? he wondered.
At the headmistress’s command, each student took a turn summoning one of the smaller, weaker spirits that lived in the mosses and fountains and breezes. They attempted to set it on a task, such as fetching a leaf or stirring the wind. When they failed, a teacher would step in and banish the spirits.