Life after my khahar-de changed. Aside from my usual lessons, I was now also obliged to attend some of the parties the asha went to at least twice or thrice a week, which gave me even less time to myself. I didn’t see Fox as often, and I grew to rely on his steady presence in my mind, because it was better than nothing at all. I was encouraged by Lady Mykaela to call her and the others “sister,” although my dislike for Zoya prevented me from ever saying this to her face. I was also encouraged to call Mistress Parmina “Mother,” but I found that equally difficult and never did so unless she prompted me to.
Although I could not draw other kinds of runes, Lady Hami began to teach me the combat stances asha used—I had to recognize and understand the movements they made when they drew in their magic, even though I couldn’t use them.
“Tell me everything you know about runes,” she demanded as I stood shivering in the cold. We were outside Ankyo, in an open field used for Runic training, to minimize the injuries and damages that came with the territory. I was clad only in a short tunic and very thin pants my instructor called a sirwal, which did nothing to keep out the chill of the morning. Lady Hami was dressed no better than I was but ignored the morning cold.
“There are three thousand characters in the Runic language,” I narrated, my teeth chattering. “But only five hundred runes of the old language are known today. Of these, only two hundred runes are used for magic—no one yet knows how to make use of the other three hundred. There are ten words associated with meditation and healing, thirty for Fire magic, thirty-five for Water, thirty-seven for Wind, twenty-nine for Wood, thirty-one for Earth, twenty-five for Metal, and three for Dark magic. The more complicated the rune drawn, the more powerful a spell it can—”
“That’s enough. You’ve been paying attention to your lessons, but theory is useless without practical applications.” With one finger, Lady Hami sketched out the rune for Wither in the air, an aspect of Wood magic. It was roughly the size of her head, and it dissolved easily as soon as she directed her will downward.
The grass around us started to decay. It spread out like a disease, until we stood in a brown circle roughly a yard across.
“Now spot the difference.” Lady Hami flung her arms out above her as high as she could and then brought them back down. She drew the Wither rune in this manner, so that this time, the symbol was as large as she was, shining a bright, sickly green light.
The circle of decay around us spread farther, five times the size of the original.
“The bigger you draw the rune, the more damage it can cause,” she said. “You would expect, then, that bigger runes are always better when in battle, yes? But that is not always the case.” She whipped out an arm, punching at the air for a few seconds, and three small holes popped up, one after the other, alongside the large decayed circle, so that from above, it resembled a dog’s paw.
“Or perhaps this.” She gestured, this time drawing the Rot rune, and the circle around us sank to a lower level than the rest of the ground. She sketched out Rot and Mud next, weaving both runes together, and a large patch of land beside me turned into sticky quicksand. She did it again, rushing her movements so that the runes were poorly drawn, like bad handwriting. Another area of the ground roughly the same size as the quicksand appeared, more solid than the first—a fact Lady Hami demonstrated by deliberately stepping onto it. Her boot sank an inch or so but went no deeper.
“There is no point in drawing so large a rune when someone could get off three smaller runes and incapacitate you before you can complete the spell. But there is no point in attacking with three smaller runes if they do little damage and allow your opponent to finish. There is also no point in writing your runes poorly, as slovenly written runes to make quicksand will not make it quicksand. Some runes do more damage but take longer to create. Every fight is unique. There is no blueprint for opponents, and you must learn to decide quickly in the course of a battle—or you will be dead.”
“But I c-can’t do any of these.”
“On the contrary, you know three Dark runes and then ten more.”
I stared at her. “But those runes are for healing and for meditation. I don’t know how—”
“Ah, so now you know better than I which runes to use in a fight, little chitterling? You have suddenly mastered the craft after only half a lesson?”
I clamped my mouth shut and shook my head.
“Support magic is almost always forgotten when one refers to spellbinding. It can be just as deadly as combat magic if you know how. There is a reason why Instructor Kaa teaches you these exercises. Many people do not remember that while Dark asha cannot use the more popular elemental magic, they can still invoke support magic as well as their own runes. That is why ateliers and hairdressers, who cannot use Fire runes or Water runes, can use potions and weave support spells into their fashion. Only a rare few know how to turn this into offensive magic, and that is what you are here for. Attack me.”
I was at the fourth tier in my combat training, still at the second-lowest level, but was competent enough to be further along than many apprentices who started at the same time I did. But I hesitated.
Lady Hami’s fingers moved, and I was down on the ground. My mind had been suddenly overwhelmed by unexpected and irrational fright.
“You were afraid, weren’t you?” Lady Hami extended her hand, helped me to my feet. “See what a little support spell can do? Attack me again.”
Her fingers moved, and immediately I was overcome by anger. I rushed at the asha but was stopped in my tracks by a sudden barrage of doubt. What was I doing?
“You can use emotions to win a fight without taking a step,” Lady Hami said, and both the anger and doubt disappeared. “The first thing an asha is taught is how to recognize emotions that are outside of their own and nullify them before they take over. Veteran asha will not be affected by these spells—unless you are subtle enough that it passes beneath their notice.”
She held out the Heartforger’s protection stone that I had entrusted to her before the practice began. “You have an advantage, but you cannot always rely on this stone to protect you. I will first teach you how to defend these attacks. In time, I will teach you more. And perhaps I will even teach your brother, so that he needs not hide behind trees to watch his sister at practice.”
There was an injured silence from a cluster of oak trees a few meters away before Fox walked out. “I felt her distress,” he said, like this alone was reason enough for his presence.
“Yes, you do. And that is why you will accompany Tea from now on to most of her training unless I say otherwise. It would be a waste of time to teach you both separately.”
“If that is an offer, Lady Hami, I am honored.”
“It is not an offer,” the woman told him. “It is an order. You are Tea’s familiar, and it will do you both good to learn to control your emotions together. If Tea is to profit from her training, then it is important that you learn the same things she does. But not today. You are not fully her familiar yet, and there are certain requirements that must be in place before I accept you as another student. For now, you will watch, and you will learn when the time comes.”
• • •
I was grateful when Mistress Parmina decided to end my singing lessons. I had improved to the point where I no longer sounded like a dying frog and could pass off a reasonable warble. But both she and Instructor Teti decided that to give me more lessons was a waste of time—I would never be asked to sing in any official capacity. This was not a blow to the Valerian’s honor, though it was certainly a disappointment. Lady Shadi, for instance, excelled in singing, dancing, and all the refined arts but was only an average student in combat training. Her movements were too refined, without the quickness and speed necessary to make her effective.
The dissolving of my singing lessons gave me more time to pursue my combat lessons with Lady Hami, and I admit that I enjoyed those lessons more, though I frequently lost. My dancing classes continued, where I made better progress. I loved to dance, and I loved my fighting classes—they were compatible skills. I breezed through many of the easier songs and learned two new dances a week on average. I was soon promoted to the fourth tier of dance, the same week I was also promoted to the third tier in my combat lessons. Instructor Yasmin and Lady Hami were pleased, so I supposed Mistress Parmina was too.
Matches became part of my regular schedule. I sparred every day as often as I could. The week after I received my third tier, I walked into the training hall, still basking in my accomplishment. It was early enough in the day that there were few students about, but I saw Lord Kalen was present, already geared up for sparring. My steps faltered.
“What are you waiting for, Tea?” Lady Hami called out, and I hurried to comply.
Kalen frowned when he saw me approach. “I suppose there’s a reason she’s here.”
“Tea is one of my most promising students, Kalen. Her training is going splendidly.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Would you like to see for yourself? Tea, stand at the ready.” The instructor tossed me a wooden stick.
I caught it. “Against him? But, Lady Hami, I’m only a student. I haven’t even warmed up—”
“Only a student, yes. But if you participate only in fights where your opponent is either evenly matched or weaker—or where you have been sufficiently warmed up—then you have already lost. Stand at the ready, Tea.”
I obeyed. Kalen stood on the other end of the mat, flexing his fingers. A few other pupils drew nearer, attracted to the discrepancies in our skill. “Begin,” Lady Hami said, and any hope I’d had that the Deathseeker would go easy on me was dashed when he sprung forward, striking a blow to my shoulder before I had a chance to gather my wits.
“Point to Lord Kalen,” my instructor said. “Begin.”
Kalen leaped again, but I managed to counter his next attack. The wooden stick whirled and blurred, and it took all my concentration to keep him from striking another hit. For the next ten minutes, it was a one-sided affair where he kept up the offense, until he scored another blow to my leg.
“Point to Lord Kalen. Begin.”
His blows are weaker when they come from his right side, Fox’s voice said from inside my head, and I nearly tripped. Use the room to your advantage. Circle him from your left and wait for an opening.
I followed his instructions and dodged to the left. He spun to confront me.
Now!
I dropped to my knees, and the stick flew above my head. I struck out at the same time and managed a glancing blow off his hip.
“Point to Tea. Begin.”
“No,” Kalen interrupted. “I’m satisfied with her progress.” He looked down at me, still sitting on the mat and struggling for breath. “You’re pretty good,” he said, placing his hand on his side and wincing, “as much as it pains me to admit it.”
“Thank you, milord.” I spotted Fox strolling aimlessly along the side of the room, grinning.
“I was hoping you would be so kind as to help me train Tea,” Lady Hami told Kalen. “I think you have much to show her.”
“I’m not sure I would have the time to—”
“You said only yesterday that your post here at Ankyo hasn’t given you much to do,” the woman pointed out. “And you offered to help me instruct some of my students.”
The colors in Kalen’s heartsglass flickered. “I…did say that.”
“Excellent.” Lady Hami was brisk. “Tea here takes her lessons in the afternoon. I think between us, she will be quite proficient.”
Kalen turned to me with a brittle smile, and I stopped myself from outwardly flinching. “I think so too.”
• • •
Lord Kalen poured his resentment into our training sessions and made Lady Hami’s seem like child’s play by comparison. I frequently came home bruised and tired, with little energy for anything else. But I made no protest; he could have used them to justify how I wasn’t strong enough for his training, and he would have been wrong.
And as hard as he worked me, he was making me better. I started winning more matches against others in my class, sometimes outclassing those above my tier. Lady Hami still trounced me often, but I was lasting longer with each fight.
I don’t know what kind of arrangement had sprung up between Fox and Kalen, but I walked in on them sparring on several occasions, with Fox holding his own exceedingly well.
“Why doesn’t he like me but has no problems with you?” I asked my brother once in a burst of frustration.
“He’s fairly protective of the prince and views you as a source of danger to him,” Fox pointed out, carefully wrapping his hands in thick strips of gauze. “And there’s an advantage to teaching you, even if he doesn’t want to. On the off chance that you’re with the prince when something attacks, you’d be more adept at fighting them off and protecting him. I reckon it’s also why he’s sparring with me.”
“But I don’t want him angry with me.”
“You’ve got a choice, Tea. You can choose to distance yourself from the prince and possibly earn Kalen’s friendship, or continue your meetings and retain his bodyguard’s ire.”
Fox looked at my face and sighed. “I thought so.”