MY LUNGS BLAZED. Flushed and sweat-soaked, I lagged behind the main group of soldiers, my throat burning with every gasp. It was my fourth lap around the castle complex. One more to go.
I had hovered by the northeast barracks right after tasting the Commander’s breakfast. When a large clump of soldiers ran past, I spotted Ari, who waved me to join in. I worried that the other guards would resent my presence, but there were servants, stable boys and other castle workers mixed in with the soldiers.
The first two laps quickened my pulse and shortened my breath. Pain began in my feet during the third lap and traveled up my legs by the fourth. My surroundings blurred until all I saw was the small patch of ground right in front of me. When I limped to my finishing point, ending my agony, I found a thick row of hedges and threw up my breakfast of sweet cakes. Straightening, I saw a grinning Janco give me a thumbs-up as he jogged by. He didn’t even have the decency to look winded, and his shirt was still dry.
As I wiped vomit off my lip, Ari paused beside me. “Training yard, two o’clock. See you then,” he said.
“But…” I said to nobody as Ari jogged away. I could hardly stand, I couldn’t imagine doing anything more strenuous.
In the training yard that afternoon, Ari and Janco leaned against the fence watching two men sparring with swords. The loud ring of metal striking metal echoed. The fighters had drawn the attention of every soldier. I realized with surprise that one of the men was Valek. I hadn’t seen him since early that morning, and I had assumed he was resting after being up late the night before.
Valek was liquid in motion. As I watched him, one word came to my mind: beautiful. His movements had the speed and cadence of a complex dance performance. In comparison, his adversary resembled a newborn colt, lurching and jerking his arms and legs as if this were his first time on his feet. Valek’s smooth lunges and graceful parries disarmed his opponent in no time.
Pointing with his sword, he sent his beaten foe to a small group of men, and motioned for another to attack.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Valek’s challenge,” Janco said.
“What’s that?”
“Valek has declared a challenge to anyone in Ixia. Beat him in a fight with the weapon of your choice, or hand to hand, and you can be promoted to his second-in-command.” Ari gestured to Valek, now engaged in combat with a third man. “It’s become a sort of graduation from basic training for the soldiers to fight Valek at least once, although you can try as many times as you like. The Captains watch the matches and recruit the more promising soldiers. And if you manage to impress Valek with your skills, he may offer you a post in his elite intelligence corps.”
“How did you guys do?” I asked.
“Okay,” Ari demurred.
“Okay!” Janco snorted. “Ari came close to beating him. Valek was pleased. But Ari would rather be a scout than a spy.”
“I want all or nothing,” Ari said with a quiet intensity.
We continued to watch. Ari and Janco made technical comments about the different fights, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from Valek. With the sunlight glinting off his sword, he dispatched two more men. He tapped them with the flat of his weapon, just to let them know he had broken through their defenses without shedding any blood. The next opponent approached with a knife.
“Bad choice,” Ari said.
Valek put down his sword and unsheathed his blade. The match was over in two moves.
“Valek excels in knife fighting,” Janco commented.
The last challenger was a woman. Tall and agile, she wielded a long wooden staff. Ari called it a bow. She held her own against Valek, and their sparring lasted longer than any of the previous six fights. With a loud crack, her bow snapped in two, ending the match. As the crowd dispersed, Valek spoke with the woman.
“That’s Maren,” Ari said. “If she doesn’t disappear into Valek’s corps, you should ask her to teach you the bow. With your smaller size, it would extend your reach against a taller attacker.”
“But you can’t conceal a bow,” I said.
“Not around the castle. But if you’re hiking through the woods, you wouldn’t look out of place holding a walking stick.”
I looked at Maren and considered the possibilities. Would she agree to help me? Probably not. What would she stand to gain?
As if reading my thoughts, Ari said, “Maren’s aggressive and encouraging. Every new female recruit gets her personal attention whether they want it or not. Since so many women fail due to the rigors of training, she tries to coach them through. We’ve more women in the guard now than ever because of her. We tried to get her to teach us—a bow would make a good weapon for a scout—but she has no interest in training men.”
“But I’m not a new recruit, I’m the food taster. Why would she waste her time with me? I might be dead by tomorrow.”
“Aren’t we grumpy today,” Janco said cheerfully. “Too much exercise this morning?”
“Shut up,” I said. Unfazed, his grin only widened.
“All right, that’s enough. Let’s get started,” Ari said.
I spent the rest of the afternoon learning to punch someone without breaking my hand and practicing the proper technique of kicking. The first two knuckles of both hands turned bright red as I punched into a training bag over and over. Mastering the front kick was a challenge since my stiff thigh muscles hindered my flexibility.
When Ari finally dismissed me, I aimed my battered body toward the castle.
“See you in the morning,” Janco said with a gleeful sound in his voice.
I turned to tell him where to stick it and came face-to-face with Valek. I held my breath. He had been watching us. I felt self-conscious.
“Your punches are slow,” he said. Taking my hand, he examined the bruises, which were starting to purple. “At least your technique is good. If you hold weights in your hands while you train, your punches will be much quicker without them.”
“I can continue?” I asked in disbelief.
He still held on to my hand, and I couldn’t summon the willpower to pull it back. The warmth of his touch coursed through my body, temporarily vanquishing my aches and pains.
With the memory of his stunning physical display fresh in my mind, I gazed at his strong face. His flashing and dangerous blue eyes had always taken my attention. I had learned to read his facial expressions as a survival tactic but I had never really looked at him in this way before. He was a study in contradiction. The man who carved delicate statues was also capable of disarming seven opponents without breaking a sweat. My interactions with Valek resembled a performance on the tightrope. One minute I was confident and balanced, and the next insecure and unstable.
“I think it’s an excellent idea,” he said. “How did you get the power twins to agree to teach you?”
“Power twins?”
“Combine Ari’s strength with Janco’s speed, and they would be unbeatable. But, so far, I haven’t had to test my theory since they haven’t tried to fight me together. No one said I couldn’t have more than one second-in-command. You’re not going to give me away, are you?”
“No.”
Valek gave my hand a small squeeze, and then released his grip. “Good. They’re probably the best instructors at the castle. How did you meet them?”
“They were the men who found me in the forest. The Commander promoted them, and I took advantage of their gratitude.” My hand tingled where he had touched it.
“Opportunistic and underhanded, I love it.” Valek laughed. He was in a good mood as he walked beside me to the castle. Probably a rush from beating so many opponents. Before we reached the east entrance, he stopped. “There’s one problem.”
My heartbeat increased to double time. “What?”
“You shouldn’t train so visibly. Word spreads quickly. If Brazell finds out and makes a fuss, the Commander will order you to stop. And it’ll make the Commander suspicious.”
We entered the cool, dark air of the castle. It was a relief to be out of the hot sun.
“Why don’t you make use of all those empty storerooms in the lower level of the castle? You can still run laps in the morning for exercise,” Valek said.
Great, I thought sarcastically, jogging was the one aspect of training I would have been willing to give up. However, Valek was right, working with Ari and Janco in the middle of the yard had already attracted negative attention. Mainly Nix, whose scowls and nasty glares burned on my skin.
Valek was quiet as we traveled through the castle. I was headed to the Commander’s office to taste his dinner. He walked with me.
“Mentioning Brazell reminds me that I’ve been wanting to ask you about that Criollo that the Commander enjoys. Do you like the taste of it?”
I chose my words with care. “Yes, it’s an excellent dessert.”
“If you stopped eating it, how would you feel?”
“Well…” I hesitated, unsure where this conversation was leading. “Truthfully, I would be disappointed. I look forward to eating a piece every morning.”
“Have you ever craved the Criollo?” Valek inquired.
I finally understood where his pointed questions were leading. “Like an addiction?”
He nodded.
“I don’t think so, but…”
“But what?”
“I only eat it once a day. The Commander has a piece after every meal, including his evening snack. Why this sudden concern?” I asked.
“Just a feeling. It might be nothing.” Valek was silent during the rest of the trip.
“Well, Valek, any new promotions?” the Commander asked as we entered his office.
“No. But Maren shows promise. Unfortunately she doesn’t want to be in my corps or even be my second. She just wants to beat me.” Valek grinned, delighted by the challenge.
“And can she?” the Commander inquired. His eyebrows rose.
“With time and the proper training. She’s deadly with her bow; it’s just her tactics that need work.”
“Then what do we do with her?”
“Promote her to General and retire some of those old windbags. We could use some fresh blood in the upper ranks.”
“Valek, you never had a good grasp of military structure.”
“Then promote her to First Lieutenant today, Captain tomorrow, Major the next day, Colonel the day after, and General the day after that.”
“I’ll take it under advisement.” The Commander flashed me an annoyed glance. I was dawdling, and he had noticed.
“Anything else?” he asked Valek.
I finished tasting, placed the Commander’s tray on the desk, and headed for the door.
Valek grabbed my arm. “I’d like to try an experiment. I want Yelena to taste the Criollo every time you do for a week, then the next week I’ll taste it for you. I want to see if anything happens to her when she stops eating the dessert.”
“No.” The Commander raised a hand when Valek started to argue. “I recognize your concern, but I think it’s misplaced.”
“Humor me.”
“We can try your experiment once Rand duplicates the recipe from General Brazell. Acceptable?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. I want you to join me in a meeting with General Kitvivan. We’re just starting the cooling season, and he’s already worried about snow cats.” The Commander’s eyes found me. “Yelena, you’re dismissed.”
“Yes, Sir,” I said.
After stopping at the baths to wash, I visited the kitchen to borrow a large sieve and bowl, which I carried to the library. The remaining four pods had turned brown and were starting to rot, so I opened them, scraped out the browning pulp and seeds into the colander, and placed it into the bowl. Its bottom and sides were suspended above the inside of the bowl by the metal handles. The strong odor from the seeds permeated the room. I set the bowl on the windowsill, and opened the window to air out the smell. My experiment wasn’t based on any scientific research; I just wanted to see if the pulp would ferment. Maybe Brazell was using it to make some kind of alcoholic beverage.
My careful reading of the various botany books hadn’t revealed anything useful so far. The poison books, while interesting, had made no mention of Butterfly’s Dust. In four different volumes on poisons, I had discovered missing pages. Poking up from the binding were ragged edges where the paper had been ripped out. Valek had probably removed all pertinent information long ago in anticipation of the food tasters’ keen interest in Butterfly’s Dust.
Sighing, I piled the books at the end of my table. I knew Valek was attending the Commander’s meeting, so I slid the book of magic out of my backpack. The silver lettering of the title glinted. My stomach knotted.
Opening the slim volume, I began to read a technical discussion of the source of a magician’s power. Unable to understand all of the detailed descriptions, I only sensed that the power source blanketed the entire world, making it accessible from anywhere.
The magicians used this power in different ways, depending on their talents. Some could move objects, while others could read and influence minds. Healing, lighting fires and mental communication were also magical skills. Some could only do one thing, but the stronger the magician, the more the magician could do. A weaker magician could only read someone’s mind, while a more powerful one could not only read but communicate and even control someone’s mind. I shuddered at the thought of Irys controlling my mind.
But the magicians had to be careful when drawing power. By pulling on the source too hard or misusing it, a magician could cause creases that would set off a ripple effect. This effect, or warping, would concentrate power in certain areas and leave other places bare. Fluctuating unpredictably, another wave might reverse the amount of power available. In order to tap the power, the magicians would have to seek areas of power, but once they found a pocket, they wouldn’t know how long it would remain.
The book chronicled a time when a strong magician had tapped into the source, pulling it toward him. Because he was so powerful he was able to control the blanket without causing an explosion. The other magicians were then uncovered. Stripped of their power, they united and searched for him. Once found, and after a battle that left many dead, they tapped into his stolen source, and killed him. Eventually, the blanket had smoothed out and returned to normal, but that had taken over two hundred years.
Fingering the raised lettering on the cover, I now understood why Irys had been so determined that I should either be trained or be killed. When my magic reached a flameout, it would cause major ripples in the blanket of power. I sank deep into my chair, disappointed that the book hadn’t contained magic spells or lessons. I had been hoping for an answer. Something along the lines of: this is why you have the power, here’s how you use it, and while we’re at it, this is how to conjure up the antidote to Butterfly’s Dust.
It had been wishful thinking, plain and simple, dangerous for me to indulge in. Hope, happiness and freedom were not in my future. They had never been, not even as an ignorant child in Brazell’s orphanage. While hoping for a normal life, I had been raised as a laboratory rat for his experiments.
I slumped in my chair until the sun set, allowing self-pity to run its course. When the muscles in my legs began to throb with inactivity, I stood and physically shook off my gloom. If I couldn’t find the antidote in the books, I would find it another way. Someone had to know something. There had been food tasters on Commander Ambrose’s staff for fifteen years. If no one could help me, then I would try another way, perhaps stealing the antidote or following Valek to its source. Skills I lacked, but I was determined to learn.
The next morning, prepared with an empty stomach, I joined in the flow of jogging soldiers. Ari and Janco breezed past me. Janco flashed a jaunty wave and mischievous smile. Later, when I heard heavy steps pounding behind me, I assumed Janco was up to no good.
I moved aside to let him pass, but the runner stayed close on my heels. I glanced back in time to see Nix thrust his arms out. His hands connected with my back. I fell forward, crashing to the ground. As Nix ran over me, his boot slammed into my solar plexus, knocking the wind out of me.
Pain bloomed in my chest. I gasped for breath while curled in a fetal position on the ground. Once I regained my wind, I pushed myself to a sitting position. The flow of soldiers remained unabated, and I wondered if anyone had witnessed what that bastard had done.
If he was trying to discourage me, he was going about it the wrong way. Nix had just increased my resolve to learn self-defense so I didn’t fall victim to mongrels like him. I stood up and waited for Nix’s next circuit, but he never came back.
Ari stopped. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” Nix, like Margg, was my problem. If I didn’t deal with him, he would never leave me alone. A tingle of doubt touched my stomach. It had been that kind of thinking that had landed me in the dungeon, awaiting execution.
“Your face is covered with blood,” Ari said.
I wiped the blood on my sleeve. “I fell.”
Before he could question me further, I changed the subject by giving him something else to think about. I repeated Valek’s advice about concealing our training sessions; Ari agreed that it was prudent to go “underground.” He offered to scout out a suitable location.
“You’re Maren, right?” I asked between gasps for air. I had been running laps for a week, and this morning I had timed my pace to run beside Maren.
She shot me a quick, appraising glance. Her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Wide muscular shoulders atop a thin waist made her figure appear disproportionate. She moved with athletic ease, and I had to scramble to keep up with her long, loping strides.
“And you’re the Puker,” Maren said.
It was an insult aimed with a purpose; her interest in my response was keen. If she had wanted to dismiss me, she would have made her comment and sprinted away, not bothering to watch for a reaction.
“I’ve been called worse.”
“Why do you do it?” Maren asked.
“What?”
“Run till you’re sick.”
“Five circuits were assigned. I don’t like to fail.” I received another measuring look. With my words coming out as huffs, I knew I wouldn’t be able to maintain a conversation for long. “I watched you fight Valek. I’ve heard you’re the best with a bow. I want to learn to use one.”
Her pace slowed. “Who told you that?”
“Ari and Janco.”
Maren snorted as if she thought a con artist had duped me. “Friends of yours?”
“Yes.”
Her mouth formed a small o as she made a mental connection. “They found you in the forest. It’s rumored they were training you to fight but you quit. Are they foisting you off on me?”
“The problem with rumors—” I panted “—is the difficulty in sorting the truth from the lies.”
“And the reason I’m willing to donate my time?”
I had anticipated this question. “Information.”
“About what?”
“You want to beat Valek, right?”
Her gray eyes focused on me like two sword points pressing against my skin.
With the last of my breath, I wheezed out, “Come to the east entrance of the castle this afternoon at two and I’ll tell you.” Unable to keep up with her any longer, I slowed down. She pulled ahead. I lost sight of her in the press of soldiers.
Throughout the rest of the morning, I replayed the conversation in my mind, trying to guess her response as I tasted the Commander’s meals. At two o’clock, I waited in the castle’s east doorway, chewing on my lip. Ari and Janco had spread a rumor that my training had stopped. I’d taken a considerable risk by indicating to Maren that this might not be true. When I spotted a tall figure carrying two bows heading in my direction, my anxiety eased a little.
Maren paused when she entered the corridor. She spotted me leaning against the wall.
Before she could comment, I said, “Follow me.” I led her to a deserted hallway where Janco and Ari waited.
“I guess gossip is not to be trusted,” Maren said to Ari.
“No. But there are certain rumors we would like to keep as is.” A thinly disguised threat laced Ari’s words.
Maren ignored him. “Okay, Puker, what’s your information? And it better be good or I’m walking.”
Ari’s face reddened and I could see that he bit back a remark. Janco, as always, grinned in anticipation.
“Well, as I see it, the four of us can help each other out. Ari, Janco and I want to learn how to fight with the bow. You want to beat Valek. Working together, we may be able to achieve our goals.”
“How’s my teaching you going to help in a match against Valek?” Maren asked.
“You’re skilled with the bow, but your fighting tactics need work. Ari and Janco can help you with that.”
“One week of training and the Puker thinks she’s an expert,” Maren said to Ari with an incredulous voice. He remained mute, but his face darkened.
“I’m not an expert, but Valek is.”
She shot me a cold stare. “He said that? About me?”
I nodded.
“So I teach bow, and Ari and Jan teach tactics. What’s your contribution?”
I gestured to the four of us. “This. And…” I hesitated, unsure if my next statement would have any sway. “I could teach you some flips, and help you to gain greater flexibility and balance that might benefit you in a fight.”
“Damn.” Janco was impressed. “She’s got you there. And four does make for a better training group than three.”
Annoyed, Maren shifted her focus to Janco. He smiled sweetly at her.
“All right, I’ll try it on a temporary basis. If it doesn’t work, I’m walking.” Before anyone could interject, she said, “Don’t worry. I may listen to the rumor mill, but I don’t participate in it.”
Once we shook hands on the arrangement, my apprehension dissipated. We showed her where we had been meeting for the last week.
“Cozy,” Maren said as she entered our training room.
Ari had found an abandoned storeroom on the lower level in the deserted southwest corner of the castle. Two windows near the ceiling let in enough light to work by.
We spent the remaining time practicing the rudiments of bow fighting.
“Not bad, Puker,” Maren said at the end of the session. “I see some potential.”
When she picked up her bows to leave, Ari placed a large hand on her shoulder. “Her name’s Yelena. If you don’t want to call her by her name, then don’t come back tomorrow.”
I could see my astonished expression mirrored on Maren’s face, but she recovered quicker than I did. Nodding curtly, she shook off Ari’s hand and walked away. I wondered if she would join us again.
She returned the next day, and showed up without fail for the next two months as we trained together throughout the cooling season. The air held a fresh crisp scent, and true to the season’s name, each day grew cooler than the last. The bright flowers of the hot season wilted while the trees turned orange, russet and finally brown. The leaves dropped to the ground and were blown away by the frequent rainstorms.
My research on the pods had stalled, but Valek appeared unconcerned by my lack of progress. On occasion he observed us training, and he would comment and make suggestions.
Nix continued to plague me during my morning run. He threw rocks, he spat on me and tripped me. I had to change my routine to avoid him by running laps around the outer wall of the castle complex. My defensive abilities were still in the beginning stages, and not sufficient for a confrontation with Nix. At least, not yet. There were advantages to running outside the complex. The smooth grass was softer on my feet than the dirt path inside the complex, and by jogging before dawn, I encountered no one, which added to the deception that I had quit training.
At the end of the cooling season, the hours of daylight shortened, and our training sessions ended with the setting sun. In the semidarkness of twilight I headed to the baths, moving with care to accommodate my bruised ribs. Janco, that annoying jackrabbit, had gotten through my defenses with his speedy little jabs.
As I approached the entrance to the baths, a large shadow detached from the stone wall. Alarmed, I stepped back into a fighting stance. Fear, excitement and doubt raced through my body. Would I need to defend myself? Could I do it? Should I run?
Margg’s ample shape coalesced out of the shadows, and I relaxed a bit.
“What do you want?” I asked. “Are you running another errand for your master like a good doggie?”
“Better than being a rat caught in a trap.”
I brushed past her. Exchanging insults, while enjoyable, was a waste of my time.
“Would the rat like some cheese?” she asked.
I turned. “What?”
“Cheese. Money. Gold. I bet you’re the kind of rat that would do anything for a piece of cheese.”