First Year (30 page)

Slowly, I became aware of the voices surrounding me, and I opened my eyes to find Ella, Alex, and the rest of my family standing next to my bedside in what appeared to be the healing ward. Two mages in the red robes of Restoration were frowning. I was immediately filled with a hundred questions.

I tried to sit up, only to gasp and clutch my ribs as the immediate pain sent me doubling over in agony.

“She’s awake!” Derrick cried, and suddenly all eyes turned to me.

I tried to shift more comfortably and groaned. There was an almost unbearable throbbing in my shoulder. Every muscle ached. My left arm stung as if someone had hammered it repeatedly with a red-hot mallet.

“W-what happened?” I croaked. My mouth was like sand.

My mother handed me a glass brimming with water and motioned for me to drink.

“Ryiah, dear, when you impaled yourself on that boy’s sword, your casting collapsed the entire structure you two were struggling beneath.”

Derrick bounced from one foot to the next. “You destroyed the armory!”

“You sent the entire building crumbling when you lunged at Ray, Ryiah. The whole structure fell, toppling both of you,” Ella told me.

“You almost killed yourself!” Alex interrupted, eyes flashing dangerously. “All so that you could take Ray down with you!”

“Barclae is beside himself.” Ella paused. “So is everyone else. That area was off limits, but you knew that, didn’t you?”

I bit my lip, avoiding everyone’s furious gaze. “I was going to lose,” I said softly. “I had no stamina left…I-I knew pain was an unpredictable way to call on magic, but I thought maybe its casting would be enough to disarm him. I didn’t realize it would bring down the entire armory.”

“I don’t know whether you are a genius or the biggest fool I’ve ever known.” That was Alex.

I started to laugh, and then quickly stopped as my ribs shook painfully. “At least I won,” I choked.

Silence.

And then: “But you didn’t.”

I glanced up at my friend, but Ella refused to meet my eyes.

“Ryiah, you lost,” my mother said, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

My heart stopped. “How?” I rasped.

“The entire building fell. All of us thought you were dead.” Ella swallowed. “But right as the judges and Master Barclae reached the scene, Ray appeared, dragging you out of the rubble.” She swallowed, “He managed to survive your attack using some sort of defensive sphere. He saved you too... if it weren’t for Ray, Ryiah, I don’t think you would be alive right now. Even Restoration has its limits.”

And that was it.

My world came crashing down around me as I realized what my friend was saying. Not only had I broken the tourney rules and destroyed a valuable building, I had almost killed the both of us. The pain had made my magic spiral out of control. If I had succeeded, the two of us would have died from its impact. But, my opponent,
my noble opponent,
had saved the both of us.

Ray had won.

I had lost.

And I had managed to do so in such appalling fashion that nobility would be talking about it for years to come. The Colored Robes and Master Barclae would remember me. That was for certain. Not as an apprentice, a girl of much talent, but as a first-year that almost killed herself and her opponent in the world’s most foolhardy attempt. Why couldn’t I have just lost with dignity?

Ray had given me an out. I should have taken it.

While a lost match wasn’t ground for disqualification, the last first-year to secure an apprenticeship with one had attended the school more than a decade ago. And in my case, with the stunts that I had pulled, it was pretty clear what my outcome would be.

Later that same evening, after the rest of my family had retired, Ella told me the results for the rest of the Combat trials. Ray and I had lasted the longest—fifty minutes while everyone else had barely used up a half-hour. Priscilla had won her match with the same strategy she’d used to beat me in the mid-year duels, and Clayton had lost tragically to Darren within the first fifteen minutes. “Clay didn’t have a chance,” she noted dryly, “and when Darren won…Well, let’s just say that the judges themselves took to a standing ovation.”

A sinking feeling formed in the pit of my stomach as I picked at the food Ella had brought in from the dining hall. I was on orders to spend the entire night in the infirmary, and while I wasn’t happy, there wasn’t much I could do about it. The one time I had tried to stand, I had spent the next hour puking into a bucket. I was not ready to repeat the experience.

I had only myself to thank for the pain I was in right now.

“Master Barclae announced the order of the second trials,” Ella began. I continued to push peas around my plate, listening. “Ryiah…you and Clayton and half the others will be going tomorrow.”

My grip on the fork tightened, creating red indents in my palm. I stared up at my friend in horror. “Tomorrow? Shouldn’t Alchemy and Restoration go first? They’ve had more days to rest!”

“It was a random drawing.” Ella’s expression was sympathetic.

“Combat has the most students so some
had
to go tomorrow.”

I set my plate to the side. “I should just leave,” I said abruptly. “It doesn’t matter how I fare tomorrow. They will never let someone like me get a robe after what happened today.”

She looked away, patting my arm.

“You can’t tell me I’ve got a chance,” I added.

Ella forced herself to meet my eyes. “There has never been a doctrine stating you had to win the tourney to earn a place.”

“How many have been apprenticed after losing a match?” I challenged bitterly.

She didn’t answer. We both knew the truth.

The next morning I awoke feeling resigned as I slowly lowered myself from the cot and dressed for the day’s events. My body had healed miraculously overnight, thanks to the potent draughts and restorative touch of Restoration. Those healers knew what they were doing. I might be miserable inside, but on the outside it was as if I had never been injured at all.

I could have left the Academy that day. I could have packed my bags and waited out the rest of my twin’s trials as a spectator.

I could have, but I was too proud. Ella was right. Whether I was willing to admit it or not, I had given my life for the chance to be a part of this place. Every waking dream of childhood, every hope I had ever held —they had all centered on becoming a mage. I could not leave my dream behind without completing this one final test.

I would stay for the ceremony, too. I would watch as Darren, Eve, and the others received something I had not been fit to earn. I would stay so that I could close this final chapter and leave my foolish aspirations behind.

There was always the Cavalry.

Pulling on my ragged tunic, I was grateful that the others would be forced to wear the same. I had already stood out enough this week. I didn’t need anything drawing more attention to how ill-prepared I felt.

Rather than heading to the library to spend the next six hours studying until my eyes bled, I followed the training field to the hill to where I had sulked so many months ago after my mid-year duel with Priscilla.

The exams were held in a tower to the west of the Academy, just overlooking the cliffs. I had never been. No one other than the judges would be allowed to hear our responses there. The building was disconnected from the rest of the castle’s structure, and it stood a good hundred feet taller than any of the roofs surrounding it. There was an ominous staircase inside, but it did not intimidate me in the least.

Each toll of the Academy bell to the east and another first-year was summoned. We had been given our individual count. I was to be one of the last for the day. I stayed on the hilltop, watching the small green specks of nervous first-years enter and exit the doors at the edge of the grounds.

Once the late afternoon sun had set my turn was fast approaching. I left my post and started the descent. By the time I had reached the tower’s base my count had rung. It was time to begin my ascent.

For ten minutes, I climbed the stairs with increasing apprehension. The inside of the passage was dark and I had to be careful where I stepped. A small flicker of light from the wall sconces was all I had to guide me in the prevalent darkness.

After five more minutes, I heard the shutting of a door above and moved to the side to let the returning first-year pass. It was only after the halting of footsteps that I looked up and realized who it was I had come across.

Darren stood, two steps above me, shadows covering all but the barest fragments of his face. He seemed just as shocked as I, though he was much quicker to recover. But not so fast that I missed the flash of guilt that shot across his face.

My pulse quickened, albeit unwillingly. The non-heir and I had not been alone together once since that day weeks before, and as much as I might loathe him in mind, my traitorous body was slow to follow.

“Excuse me,” Darren said, making way as if to leave.

I started to step aside, but then I stopped myself. I would probably never cross paths with the non-heir again, and trials were almost over. This was my one chance to ask.

“Why did you do it?”

After everything Darren had done, it shouldn’t have mattered. It didn’t, really, but I needed to hear the words regardless. Because as long as we kept this distance, as long as he avoided me, there would always be some small part of me trying to explain away his actions. Because of that kiss. That stupid, irresponsible kiss, and the way I had felt because of it.

Darren narrowed his gaze. “You were always so eager to think the worst of me. Would it really make a difference what I told you now?”

No. It wouldn’t. “I suppose not.” I glanced away, furious that I wanted his answer anyway.
Let it go, Ryiah.
I clenched my fists, wishing I could make myself as cold and unfeeling as the prince.

The movement did not go unnoticed.

Darren studied me in the shadowy passage, head cocked to the side as if I was an experiment he wasn’t quite sure of.

The warning bell chimed.

“You should go,” Darren said abruptly. “The judges won’t take kindly to you being late, especially after yesterday’s trial.”

I shot him an incredulous look. “It’s a bit of a formality, isn’t it? You and I both know my fate has already been sealed.”

The non-heir frowned. “You shouldn’t discount yourself, Ryiah.”

I stiffened. “You are truly something,” I told him, “still playing at your mind games even after all you’ve done—”

“Mind games?” Darren looked outraged, even though he had no right to be. “Are you
really
so daft?”

“Not enough to fall for false flattery twice.”

“For the love of—” Darren slammed his fist against the wall and glared down at me. “I guess I should congratulate myself,” he declared, “on helping the world’s biggest idiot!”

“Helping?” I spat.
“Helping?
What part of your actions was ‘helping?’” I climbed the remaining steps so that he could not escape. Fury was keeping my senseless attraction in check.

“Was it when you were sabotaging me in the mountains? Insulting me at every turn?
Or when you kissed me and then dumped an entire vat full of pig’s blood on me the next time we talked?”
I grabbed the non-heir’s sleeve, forcing him to meet my cold, angry eyes. “Really, Darren, which one of those should I be thanking you for?”

Our faces were inches apart, and Darren’s livid gaze was burning me alive. “You really want the truth, Ryiah?” he demanded.

I refused to cower.

“Priscilla was going to go after you whether I led the hazing or not.” He watched the full impact of his words hit me like a ton of bricks. “She had something far worse in mind, something that might have 
actually
made you resign. She
hates
you. And after she found out that I’d…that you and I…”

I released Darren’s arm and dropped his gaze immediately, suddenly aware that I had been holding onto both for far too long. There was a heavy pounding in my chest.

“Jake saw us that night,” Darren continued, unfazed. “Eve warned me what they were planning. I thought maybe if I avoided you, Priscilla would drop the vendetta, but she didn’t.” Darren exhaled loudly. “I am sorry I didn’t warn you, Ryiah, but Priscilla would never have listened to me if I’d asked her to stop. It would have just complicated things…so I told her I wanted to help. I figured it was better that way. I could halt the worst of her plan without anyone being the wiser. She was much more willing when she thought you were a mistake.”

“You call that ‘helping?’” I choked. “You still let her haze me. and it was
you
, not Priscilla, who led me straight into it.”

Darren raised a brow. “I
was
helping you. It was much better than her original idea, and everyone knows hazing is a tradition—”

“So
that’s
your argument.”

“I knew you could take care of yourself,” Darren countered. “Plenty of Jerar’s mages have gone through the same.”

“You weren’t hazed.”

Darren rolled his eyes dramatically. “If you must know, Ryiah, I still almost stopped you, only you opened that door anyway, and by then it was too late.”

A long silence followed his confession.

He had to be lying.
He is just trying to manipulate me again.
 

What had he said right before I went outside that night?
“Wait, Ryiah, don’t—”
 

And then to Priscilla when she was about to attack me:
“She’s not worth it.”
 

Had he been protecting me? He couldn’t have. But then why had he only deflected my casting when I had tried to attack him? And why had he ceased brawling with my brother the second Alex had mentioned my name? And stopped his own brother that first day of trials?

Millions of thoughts were racing through my head, and none of them were making any sense. Or rather they were. I just wasn’t sure I wanted to trust them.

“Still can’t make up your mind about me, can you, Ryiah?”

I glanced up, startled.

Darren’s garnet eyes met mine. He seemed tired, and I wondered if it was because of me, or the trial he had just come from.