Stealing Sorcery (19 page)

Velas pulled her lips into a pout. “I didn’t get one of those.”

“Well, you didn’t get ranked with an ‘S’. I don’t even know what exactly that means, but apparently I’m exceptional.”

She groaned. “You’re exceptionally full of yourself, at least.”
“You turned what was supposed to be a no win situation for you into a no win situation for the enemy. That’s pretty brilliant.” Taelien set down his knife on his tray. “That’s what I should have done. Instead, I took a serious gamble, risking our success on my own proficiency.”

“To be fair,” Velas scratched at her chin, “I think your plan had some merit, too, Taelien. The team you brought in with you might have rescued the prince even if you had lost that duel. I think the reason that you barely passed was because you risked the Saekes. Some of the judges might have considered that sword more valuable than the mission.”

“It’s just a sword,” Taelien mumbled, almost in a whisper. “It cuts well, but so do a hundred others.”

“It’s a symbol to people,” Landen gestured at the sword, which was sheathed on Taelien’s hip. “Like the Heartlance was back in Orlyn.”

“Sure, I know that, but I don’t think it’s fair to treat it that way for a test about military tactics. The people in that army were not particularly religious, so losing it wouldn’t have been a tremendous impact to morale. There were no other paladins there, and the sword itself was a minor tactical asset at best.” Taelien frowned.

“This goes back to what we were saying before, Taelien. The tester is as or more important than the test itself. You have to get into the heads of the people running the exam.” She pursed her lips. “Although apparently I didn’t do quite as good of a job as I thought I did, given that Lan managed to show me up.”

“You should be used to that by now.” Landen winked at her.

Velas resisted the urge to stick out her tongue, settling for just staring at him for a moment before replying. “Only because I don’t use my sorcery when we spar.”

“Usually.”

“Usually,” she agreed. “Gotta keep you on your toes.”

Her former Queensguard partner rolled his eyes, and then looked back to Taelien. “Anyway, we all passed. That’s the important part. We should do something to celebrate.”

“Drinks? I like drinks. You could buy me said drinks.” She gave Landen another affectionate nudge.

“I think I’ve bought you enough drinks to last a lifetime, Vel. I was thinking maybe we’d go out to the city and do some sight-seeing. I’ve heard they’re going to give us a day off to do whatever we want during the Cleansing Festival.”

“You want to go sight-seeing during the festival? Festivals are about eating and drinking, Lan. Possibly a few other things that you’ll learn about when you’re an adult.” She gave him an exaggerated wink.

Landen sighted. “How about you, Taelien? Any plans for the Cleansing Festival?”

The swordsman shook his head. “Not really, but I might try to visit Lydia. I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Landen grinned. “I wouldn’t mind seeing a bit more of Lydia—”

Velas finally picked up her knife, cutting into her rapidly cooling chicken. “Well, maybe when the two of you are done courting the fair maiden, we can do something that’s actually fun.”

“It’s not like that with Lydia,” Taelien jabbed a piece of fruit with his fork. “She’s just a friend. A mentor, really, in some respects.”

“Uh-huh. Maybe for you.”

Landen visibly blushed, as she knew he would. It was all too easy sometimes.

“—anyway, I’m sure we can find time to do something as a group for the festival,” Landen stammered, rapidly taking a drink from his cup afterward.

“Great. I’ll think of something. You two are going to love it.” Velas cut off a strip of her chicken, grinning to herself. “Trust me.”

Velas turned at the sound of footsteps approaching her from the right. Lieutenant Torrent paused, folding his arms across his chest and tilting his head to the side. “Better finish that food fast, Jaldin. You’re due in the briefing room at six bells.”

Six bells? That’s less than an hour.
“Yes, Sir.” She gave him a crisp salute, which he lazily returned.

“And pack your bags before you go to briefing. You’ve got a trip ahead of you.”

***

Pack my bags? Was I just disqualified?

Velas frowned as she opened the door to the barracks. It was dinner hour, so she didn’t expect anyone else to be there.

Asphodel was in the center of the room, sitting cross-legged on the floor, a large piece of parchment spread out in front of her. She let out a mild gasp when Velas walked in, hastily grabbing the parchment and beginning to fold it up.

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” Asphodel mumbled, sounding more confused than accusatory. “No one is supposed to be here.”

“Finished dinner early,” Velas explained, heading over to the large trunk next to her bed to begin gathering her things. “That a map for the next test?”

Velas caught Asphodel shaking her head out of the corner of her eye.

“Not for the next test.”

Well, now that’s interesting. She’s got a map for a future test?

“No need to be shy,” Velas offered, “Your secret is safe with me. And if you wouldn’t mind sharing…”

“No,” Asphodel said. “I cannot.”

Velas raised an eyebrow as she laid out supplies on her bed. A backpack, two uniforms, a bedroll to attach to the backpack, a waterskin, flint and steel, a coil of rope with a grappling hook, an extensive medical kit, a packet of herbs for water purification, and a few other miscellaneous supplies. And, of course, a scabbarded longsword and an eating knife. She was already wearing her good boots, and she had her quarterstaff leaning against the nearby wall.

Once her supplies had been organized, Velas attached the bedroll to her backpack and began to change into one of her uniforms.

“Why? I won’t tell anyone. It’ll be just between us.”

“You are not supposed to be here. I didn’t see you coming.”

Velas frowned. “This have something to do with that ‘oracle’ thing Teshvol keeps calling you?”

“Yes.”

Not much for words, this one.

“Okay, so you didn’t predict me walking into the room. Why is that significant?” She glanced over to Asphodel. The purple-haired Delaren had folded up her map, and she was now standing straight up, gazing directly at – or perhaps through – Velas.

“I can’t see you properly.”

Velas paused, half-dressed, and turned to Asphodel, tilting her head to the side. “You’re saying I’m invisible?”

“Not in the way you mean. I can’t see your path. Your potential future.” The Delaren frowned. “It is disconcerting.”

She can see potential futures? That’s…disturbing, if it’s true. I’m not sure if it’s more disturbing that such an ability exists, or that I don’t show up on it.

“Has this happened before?”

“Yes.”

Again, lovely answers.

“Right. How does your ability work? Should I be worried about your inability to see me?”

Asphodel frowned slightly. “I’m not sure. If you should be worried, that is. My ability – I am an oracle. Your people might call it the sorcery of destiny.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Destiny sorcery? That’s one of Sytira’s gifts or somesuch, isn’t it?”

“Your people believe it to be so. It is a rare and special gift. My people believe the power of foresight – the gift of the oracle – comes from Kelryssia, the Maiden of the Stars.”

She’d never heard that name before.
Some ancient, mostly forgotten goddess, perhaps? Or just an alternate name for Sytira from another culture?
“Is that what you believe?”

“No.”

Helpful. Real helpful.

“All right. Well, what does your lack of ability to see me say to you?”

Asphodel moved back toward her own bed, slipping the map under her mattress, and then returning to look at Velas. “I cannot predict your actions – at least not in the long-term. When I gaze at you directly, I can see a few moments, but no more.”

Interesting. I need to do some research on this destiny sorcery – if it’s real, that could be a tremendous asset, or an incredible liability to my plans. I need to make her mine.

“Well, that should make things more fun, won’t it?” Velas gave a grin. “It must get tiresome being able to predict everyone else’s actions in advance.”

“Not everyone else,” Asphodel corrected. “But yes.”

“Seems like you might benefit from having a friend to talk to that won’t give you answers you already have. Maybe we can play some tactics games sometime. Might be useful to you to practice against someone you can’t read as easily.”

Asphodel nodded. “Yes.”

Well, the hook is in her. We’ll see if I can reel her in later.

“I have to hurry for now. I think I have another test to take. But we should talk again soon.”

Asphodel tilted her head quizzically. “Very well.”

Velas finished changing, belted on her sword and knife, and put on her backpack to prepare for travel. “Any ideas where I’m going to be headed?”

“Telling you would be cheating,” Asphodel said, giving the slightest smile.

“Right. Cheating. Wouldn’t want to do that.”

“No.”

Velas just shook her head.

I’m really going have to keep an eye on this one.

***

Velas arrived at the briefing room a few minutes early, and stood outside as patiently as she could.
I wasn’t expecting them to send us out of the city so soon. Am I going to be set up with a squad? If so, wouldn’t it logically be Taelien and Landen?

They eliminated more than three people – we can’t be evenly distributed into squads of three now. I wonder if they’re going to break us up into different sized groups for different tasks.

Second Lieutenant Banks emerged from the briefing room a few moments later wearing a dour expression. “You’re early.” She slammed the door shut behind her.

Startled by the lieutenant’s attitude, Velas still managed to raise a hand in a weak salute.

“At ease. Your next test is another simulation. Assume that you are just about to walk into the briefing room for an assignment – just like you were – but that you hear something unusual inside.”

Banks snapped her fingers, and Velas
felt
a wave of sound sorcery pass her. She barely resisted the urge to interact with it during the instant of contact.

“Stop, right there!” The voice was unmistakably Landen’s, and it was coming from inside the room. “Drop your weapon!”

“Remember, this is a simulation,” the Second Lieutenant assured her. “Dominion of Protection, form a layer of armor around Applicant Velas.”

Banks pressed a hand against Velas’ shoulder, and the former Queensguard felt the familiar sensation of a suit of incorporeal armor wrapping around her. She knew from experience that the spell would dampen, but not completely absorb, any attacks that struck her – at least until the armor was destroyed.

“The people inside will be shielded as well?” Velas asked.

The Second Lieutenant nodded, and Velas heard the clash of steel on steel. “You may begin.”

Velas snapped into focus, immediately playing into the simulation. “Sir, I believe I hear combat in the briefing room!”

Banks frowned, which Velas took as a sign that she wasn’t expecting to be included in the simulation. “Go see what it is. I’ll seek out help.”

“Yes, Sir!”

Velas spun around, drawing her sword and rushing to the door. She heard a thump inside, followed by a groan. She grabbed the door handle and turned it, immediately taking a defensive stance while she scanned the room.

A black-cloaked figure was standing over Landen, who was lying face-upward on the floor, his twin swords both lying out of his reach. He had visible cuts – real or fake? – on both of his arms, and his uniform was cut over his chest, but she couldn’t see any injury to his torso from the current angle.

The figure that loomed above him was dressed in all black, wearing a white neutral mask and a voluminous black cloak. The gender of the figure was indeterminate, but he or she was carrying a single long sword – paladin standard issue – and looked to be about ready to plunge it into Landen’s chest.

A stereotypical assassin. Not a thing like the reality, but I get the point.

“Stop!” Velas shouted, drawing the figure’s attention. “I’ve already called for help. This place will be swarming with paladins in minutes. Landen there is a low-value target. He’s just a cadet. Killing him will accomplish nothing for you. Surrender now and we will give you a chance to explain yourself.”

Somehow, in spite of the mask, she thought she could see the assassin’s eyes narrowing in scrutiny.

Then he turned and ran, throwing something at the floor behind him as he moved.

Landen was roughly in the center of the room. Velas judged that that the other door – which led deeper into the building – was about five meters away from the assassin. A glance at the floor quickly identified what the assassin had thrown – caltrops, designed to slow down pursuit. With motion sorcery, she normally could have quickly covered the distance between them, but the caltrops would make that trickier. If she jumped, and then used a burst of motion to push herself across the room—