First Year (11 page)

“Look at me, Ryiah,” Ella said again. “Where is my staff going to land?”

I tried to see the impossible. Sweat stung my eyes as my gaze traveled up and down my friend’s build, searching desperately for a sign.

Then I saw it.

Her knees were lightly bent, feet apart, with the right heel slightly off the ground. It was easy to miss—her dark boots were bulky and obscured sight easily—but there was a slight indent in the leathers on the right front of the foot that betrayed where she had shifted her weight.

“You’re going to come from the right with a top-swing,” I announced confidently.

Ella relaxed her form. “You
are
learning,” she said happily. A little too enthusiastically for someone that had constantly assured me I was doing well. I briefly wondered if she really had believed that, and then buried the thought at once.

“It’s funny,” I noted, as we retired our weapons for the evening. “Each day Piers and Cedric ask me to practice in a blindfold, and then you make me watch whenever we train out here.”

“Well four days with me is not an eternity,” Ella replied. “And for you, I really think you need a better grasp of the basics. It’s a little ambitious what they are putting us through. I think the masters are so used to highborns coming from private tutelage that they forget what it’s like for the rest. My background at least came in handy, but for you it’s a matter of tireless diligence.”

I groaned.

For the rest of that week and the next, Ella and I continued our daily practices. It was an endless cycle of madness, but fortunately I did not fall any further behind.

In the meantime, two straight weeks with Ella correcting my form and watching my every move had paid off. I was still as sore as that first day I had arrived, but I could tell my breathing was much less labored in the drills Piers put us though. Even my arms felt stronger. The wooden staff no longer felt like a foreign extension of my arm.

Piers had since stopped criticizing my technique and moved on to some of the other, less fortunate first-years that were still grappling with the concept of a proper guard.

I had to hold back a small smile when I heard Piers inform Priscilla she could learn from my approach after she complained about the “unnecessary repetition.”

The commander pointed his chin in my direction. “That one may not have your skill, my dear, but at least she’s willing to learn.”

“The ones that
need
to learn this are the ones that shouldn’t be here,” the girl retorted hotly, refusing to cower under the knight’s scowl.

“Highborn children learn to fight with staffs in their sleep.”

Several students gave loud hoots of agreement. It didn’t take a mastermind to figure out which lineage they came from.

“You would think that,” Sir Piers replied idly, “and, most of the time, you’d be right. But each year I’ve been here, there’s been one or two lowborns who shame all that extra coin your families put to use. It’s the ones that
need
to learn you should be worried about.”

Priscilla flinched and immediately stopped her protest.

“The worst thing wealth does is give those that have it a false sense of security,” Piers concluded loudly, addressing the entire group as he motioned for us to dismiss. “You stop trying as hard, and there’s always another that will gladly take your place.”

Later that evening my newfound glee was still in full swing when Ella and I retired from the armory. It seemed that Piers’s speech had instilled a newfound sense of urgency to some of the more confident first-years. We were now one of six small groups that practiced near the building after our evening meal.

Most of the students, I noticed, were practicing much more advanced moves than Ella and I, but it was a compliment that they had shown up just the same. Maybe they didn’t view me as a serious contender but now they were at least willing to consider the possibility.

Ella turned to me as we entered the library. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

I just smiled brazenly.

“You smell terrible,” Alex greeted us.. The library was packed as usual, which unfortunately did very little to alleviate the telltale odor of my clothes.

Ella gave him a look.

“Ella, my flower, my sweet, that comment was for my dear sister alone. You smell as enchanting as—”

“Save your prose, pretty boy,” Ella cut Alex off, laughing. “We’ve got enough to worry about without your attempts at romance tonight.”

Our study session came and went without much ado. We were mostly silent because the night was our last review of the fundamentals. Starting the next day, we’d be focusing on one faction a week, beginning with Restoration. And orientation meant casting.

We were all nervous. The tension in the air was thick as we poured over our volumes, each silently hoping that we had learned enough to not humiliate ourselves in the weeks that mattered.

The second and third months were when we would lose the most students, according to Master Barclae’s ominous admission that evening at dinner.
“You can’t fake it for long here
he’d warned.
“Beginning tomorrow we will see what you can do instead of what you know. Many start to resign because they see what kind of magical prowess they are actually going up against. That, and they can’t keep up.”
 

In any case, the entire library was much more quiet than usual. When Barrius came round for his usual dismissal, it took twice the time it usually did for him to clear the first two floors. Everyone was reluctant to leave. Unfortunately, that also made it impossible for me to escape to the alcove unnoticed.

Irritated, I retreated with the rest of the crowd to my barracks, resolving to sneak my way back at the earliest opportunity.

After the constable’s final round, I hastily pushed my blankets away and reached for my books in the darkness.

“Still at it?” Ella whispered from her bunk nearby.

I should have known better than to expect everyone to have already fallen asleep.

I clutched my materials and squeezed my way past the scattered belongings strewn across the floor.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” I told her quietly as I passed her bunk.

“Don’t be up too late,” she reminded gently. “We’ve got our work cut out tomorrow.”

“I know,” I replied grimacing. “I’ll try not—”

“Would you two keep it down?”
an irritated voice shot out from across the room. It belonged to my biggest fan, Priscilla.

I hastily crossed the room to the door while Ella told Priscilla where she could stick her complaints.

Upon exiting the building, I made a mad rush for the backdoors of the Academy. They were only a couple hundred feet away, but the pathway was completely exposed without a tree for cover. Barrius’s staff would be patrolling since it was still early on, and the last thing I wanted was to be discovered.

I had just made it across and quietly shut the doors behind when I heard a slight squeaking a couple paces to my left.

I froze. It was too dark to see. Holding my breath, I waited, praying whoever was there hadn’t heard me.

Silence.

I waited a couple moments longer, but there was no further sound.

Suddenly, a chamber door slammed and I heard two servants’ excited voices. They were far enough away that they hadn’t spotted me yet in the shadows, but I knew it was only a matter of time.

To make matters worse, there was a bright light coming from the furthest end of the hall. The servants’ torch was quickly eating away the shadows and casting an unflattering light across the walls it touched.

Panic filled my gut. Who knew how far Barrius would go if he found me breaking curfew? I couldn’t get caught.

I felt my way along the rough sandstone wall, inching towards the light, trying to remember if I’d seen a passageway this close to the back entry of the Academy. Surely the servants had some quarters nearby. I was in the constable’s corridor after all.

The voices were drawing nearer, as was the light, and I knew I had only a minute or so left before I was spotted. I continued my blind fumbling, ignoring the pain in my hand as I shoved it against the wall’s uncut surface, desperately seeking a handle or crevice that would indicate a room behind.

My hand caught on a smooth, hard panel, and I knew I had found a door. I felt around for the knob and had only just opened it a crack when an arm shot out and yanked me inside. The door slammed the door shut just as a hand covered my mouth to muffle my cry.

It took a second for my fear to subside as I realized who had pulled me back. There was the slightest bit of light coming through the cracks in the wooden frame, and it was enough for me to recognize the face of my so-called captor. Darren quickly let go and motioned for me to stay still.

I could hear the two servants just outside our door.

“—Know I heard something this time,” the first was saying. “I’m sure of it.”

“Well, come on then. Help me open this door,” the second drawled, “I bet you there’s a first-year hiding on the other side. The constable will have a field day when we show him!”

I swallowed and looked wildly to Darren who stood closest to the door. The two of us were crammed in some sort of storage closet. Giant sacks of flour and wheat lined the shelves, and there was nowhere to hide. We barely had enough room to stand, let alone disappear.

Darren didn’t look too worried, however. Instead, he put a finger to his lips and then shut his eyes, leaning against the nearest shelf.

Meditation isn’t going to do much good when they catch us,
I thought crossly.

The knob rattled. I held my breath and prepared for the inevitable result.

Nothing happened. The rattling continued, but the door stayed shut.

“That’s strange… This door doesn’t even have a lock.”

“Let me have a go at it.”

The metal knob continued to shake, but it was no closer to opening.

I looked to Darren in the shadows, suspicious and relieved. The door had opened easily enough for me. It was clear he was doing more than just meditating.

“It’s not letting up.”

“Well, let’s check the gardens, maybe whoever we heard made it outside.”

“Must have,” the second agreed. “Nobody could have opened this door.”

The rattling stopped, and the servants’ steps retreated. After a couple of minutes I willed myself to breathe more easily, taking slow gulps of air.

“They’re gone now. Come on.” Darren seemed impatient as he held the door, stealing nervous glances down the hall.

I stared at him. “How did you do that with the door?”

Darren ignored my question. “Are you coming or not?”

I sighed and joined him in the hall.

Darren shut the door behind us, softly, and turned to face me.

“Don’t make any sudden noises,” he instructed. “There’s still bound to be a few more servants up at this hour.”

He started off, heading towards the west corridor, and I called out after him, “Where are you going?”

The non-heir turned and gave me an odd look, or what I was convinced was one. I couldn’t be too sure since it was dark again without the servant’s light in the passage.

“The library. Where else?”

I felt like a fool.

“That’s where you’re headed, right?”

“Yes.” I raced after Darren as he started down the hall.

“Try not to get us caught this time,” he said.

I didn’t reply, deciding silence was better than the retort I had half a mind to say. He
had
saved us after all, even if he was being conceited about it.

We made it the rest of the way without any trouble. It seemed the two we had first encountered were the only servants concerned with patrolling the east wing of the castle, and we didn’t run into anyone in the west passage leading up to the library either.

Entering the giant study, I watched as Darren shut the doors behind us and conjured a bit of light in hand. There was just enough to clear up the shadows between us and cast a dim glow on our surroundings.

I cleared my throat. “Thank you…for helping me back there.” The words were hard to say.

The prince scoffed. “I didn’t do it for you.”

“Just take my thanks,” I told him exasperatedly. Whatever his motives were, they had helped me twice now.

Darren looked amused. “Your thanks?” His expression seemed to imply that they didn’t amount to much.

I balked. “Well, don’t read too much into it. You’ve been nasty enough that I guess fate was bound to have you do one decent thing for me.”

The prince recoiled. “And I suppose you think you’ve done nothing wrong?” he demanded. “In case you failed to remember, you and that girl you always go around with tried to get me thrown out of here.”

“Well, you
are
a prince,” I shot back. “You have to admit it isn’t exactly fair.”

“I will not apologize for my birthright,” Darren said stiffly. He narrowed his eyes and added callously, “I am tired of trying to explain myself to everyone that questions my right to be here.
Especially
people like you.”

I glared right back. “I may not be as well-off, but even if I was, I wouldn’t use bloodlines as a means to demean everyone else.”

“I wasn’t referring to your trivial heritage.” He looked at me contemptuously. “I care little enough whether you grew up in the fields or a damned palace.” He took a step closer and looked down at me, speaking the next few words slowly. “When I say ‘people like you’ I am referring to the ones that so clearly
have no
real
magic or potential of any kind.”
 

I clenched my fists until I could no longer feel, fire burning in my veins. Prince or not, I had never come to this close to hitting someone.

“You.” I couldn’t even come up with the rest. I was livid.

Darren continued, unaware of how dangerously he was treading. “Really, it’s unthinkable that the masters could even consider the possibility of denying
me
in favor of someone like you who plainly has no purpose attempting the robes in the first place.”

My nails dug into my palm, and I was vaguely aware of the warm trickle of blood filling my fist. Heat clouded my vision, and Darren’s smug face filled my mind.
When I say people like you.
His words were like fire, singeing my skin every place they hit.