Stealing Sorcery (25 page)

“Any idea on what the daughter specializes in?”

Silk shook her head. “No, but I could probably find out.”

He lifted both hands in a sign of non-intervention. “Not worth the time. I’m sure you have other work.”

“You aren’t kidding. I can always make time for a dinner with a charming fellow such as yourself, however. And by always, I mean up to once or twice per month.”

He scratched at his chin.
Is she flirting with me?
“I’ll be sure to contact you again soon. Is there anything I can offer you in return for your help?”

“Something a little less boring than my current assignment would be nice.” She gave a frown. “But you already mentioned that Symphony didn’t send me any new orders. A shame.” She paused, considering. “Why all the interest in this murder? It can’t have been why you were sent here in the first place, otherwise you would have asked me about it last time.”

Probably best to be honest about this one. Or honestish, at least.
“A friend asked me to look into it. And, if you were the killer, I didn’t want an investigation stumbling onto you if I could deflect it in another direction.”

She raised a hand over her chest and put on an expression of innocence, which might have looked a little more sincere if she didn’t still have an apple-stained dagger jutting out of the same sleeve. “You’d go to that much effort to protect me? I suppose I owe you my eternal gratitude. Or something.”

Jonan smirked. “Truly, my heroism knows no bounds.”

“Truly. Well, my Stealthy Hero Scribe, if there’s nothing further, I have business to attend to.” She tossed back the last of her wine, offering him a scintillating grin.

He finished the last of his apple, standing up. “I suppose I have no further excuses to prolong the conversation. It’s been a pleasure, though.”

“Oh, believe me, Jonan – the pleasure has been all mine.”

Velas stood in formation with the remainder of her platoon. Of the original twelve, only seven remained – Landen, Taelien, Asphodel, Teshvol, Kolask, a quiet water sorcerer named Eridus, and herself. The other platoons had diminished as well – some more than others. Of the forty-nine candidates that had stood with them on the field a month before, she counted a total of thirty now.

It was barely an hour past the rising of the dawnfire, but the air was already warm with a summer breeze. She heard a few yawns from nearby cadets and privately wondered if they were being penalized in their scores for the lack of discipline.

As with their last large gathering, the three officers in charge of the tests stood before them. Colonel Wyndam had a large, ornate box on the dirt in front of her. Lieutenant Torrent stood off to the side, along with three other officers she didn’t recognize – presumably the overseers for the other three platoons. Velas braced herself for a speech. She got one a few minutes later.

“Candidates,” Colonel Wyndam began, “You have done well to make it this far. We had close to five hundred applicants this year, nearly a record. Each of you shows great promise and I am confident that many of you will eventually be groomed into fine paladins regardless of your results in this year’s tests. With the first tests, we have separated you from the average candidates. With the following tests, we will separate good candidates from the exceptional.”

Velas barely resisted the urge to scratch an itch at the back of her head. She tensed her jaw, continuing to listen.

“Your next test will begin as soon as I complete my explanation. When the test begins, each of you will be given a single sigil representing one of the deities of the Tae’os pantheon by the lieutenant who oversees your platoon. Your goal will be to secure at least one additional sigil within the next twelve hours. Two of these pins will be the minimum requirement to pass on to the next stage of testing. You may pin any sigils in your possession to your uniforms and wear them for the duration of the test.”

“You will also be evaluated based on the specific symbols you collect. Obtaining a symbol may affect your eligibility to join a specific order at the discretion of that order’s arbiter.”

She paused, gesturing for the platoon lieutenants to step forward. As the lieutenants approached, Colonel Wyndam retrieved a key from a pouch on her side and twisted it in the lock on the ornate chest. Each of the lieutenants retrieved a single box from within the chest, after which the final platoon lieutenant pushed the box shut. Afterward, each of the lieutenants took up a position standing nearby, holding the smaller boxes in their hands.

Not too far apart,
Velas considered.
About ten feet from each other.

Colonel Wyndam nodded in the direction of one of the lieutenants – a tall man next to platoon one – and then resumed her speech. “Your score will be based on the number of sigils you collect. Lieutenant Morris, Second Lieutenant Banks, and I will each have seven additional sigils to distribute throughout the day.”

“We will each have different methods of choosing who we assign these sigils to. I have scheduled a brief meeting with each of the applicants to determine who I will choose – your meeting times are on the nearby assignment board. Attending the meeting is optional, but I would advise against missing any chance to earn a sigil. Lieutenant Morris, do you have anything to say?”

The Paladin of Lissari nodded and stepped forward. “Yes, ma’am. I will be holding a contest at twelve bells to determine who will earn the seven sigils you gave me. The details of the contest have also been pinned on the assignment board.”

“Very good.” Colonel Wyndam turned to Lieutenant Banks. “And you, Lieutenant Banks?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Lieutenant Banks turned toward the cadets, her silvery armor shimmering in the dawnfire’s rising light. “I believe the best equipped to judge your capabilities are your own platoon’s lieutenants. As such, I have distributed one of my seven pins to each of the platoon lieutenants. The remaining three pins have been hidden at sacred sites to the Paladins of Tae’os throughout the city. See me any time after this announcement and I will present you with clues to the three locations.” She turned back to the colonel. “That is all, ma’am.”

“Excellent. In that case, my speech is concluded. Cadets, you are dismissed. You may now form lines to retrieve your platoon’s sigils.”

The cadets turned toward where their lieutenants were already opening their boxes, displaying seven intricately carved metal pins in the designs of the runes of their gods. Velas had seen similar pins before – paladins frequently wore them with their dress uniforms to represent the specific order they belonged to. Under normal circumstances, the pins were unnecessary – field uniforms were embroidered with the symbols of the individual orders, and members who wore armor were assigned a tabard with the same symbol.

Velas was in the middle of her line – behind Asphodel, Taelien, and Kolask. She couldn’t quite see over everyone’s shoulders, but she quickly guessed that Asphodel would take the Sytira pin and Taelien would take the one corresponding to Aendaryn. She wasn’t so certain about Kolask.

Kolask snatched a pin and hastily withdrew, leaving room for Velas to step forward. She paused, saluted Lieutenant Torrent properly, and observed the remaining pins.
Eratar, Lissari, Xerasilis, and...Aendaryn?

She glanced at Taelien, who was already fastening a pin to his uniform and walking away.

Shaking her head, she picked up the Aendaryn pin, nodded to Lieutenant Torrent, and stepped away from the line.

And, immediately thereafter, she turned toward the ornate chest on the ground.

Surge.
The blast of motion pushed her to the chest in an instant, and while Colonel Wyndam turned toward her, Velas pushed open the lid of the box.

There was nothing left inside.

The colonel laughed softly. “That was nicely done, Applicant Jaldin. I applaud your initiative, but we wouldn’t make things quite that easy for you.”

Well, at least I got a chuckle out of her. That makes things slightly less embarrassing.
Velas saluted the colonel. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.”

“No need for that at the moment. You had the right idea – use every instant you have.”

Velas lowered her hand and nodded. “That’s advice I’m happy to take.”

She spun around, looking at the platoon lieutenants. None of them had quite finished handing out their pins yet.
Tempting. But the long-term consequences of grabbing pins from one of the platoon batches wouldn’t be worth it. I’ll find another way.

She fastened her Aendaryn pin onto her tunic and walked to meet with Taelien. He was sitting on a large stone when she approached, scratching at his chin with an expression of concentration.

“Should I expect my pin to come flying off at any moment?” Velas tapped her pin meaningfully.

“Hmm?” Taelien looked up, seeming to notice her for the first time. As he turned, she caught sight of the glittering symbol of Lysandri on his uniform. “Oh, no. I didn’t magnetize them this time. Sabotaging my own platoon would be pretty low.”

Winning is winning, Sal. But you’re cute when you try to be so honorable.

“Of course, I was just teasing. Still, with that expression, you’re clearly thinking up one of your crazy ideas.”

He nodded, but his expression remained neutral. “More just debating if I should use the idea I already have.”

“Another morally dubious one?”
He shook his head. “No, just risky and somewhat impractical.”

“Sounds like you. Let me in on it?”

The swordsman frowned, folding his arms. “I don’t think I can with this one. I don’t want you to be complicit if something goes wrong. Besides, I won’t exactly need help if I decide to do it. Thanks for the offer, though.”

“It wasn’t an offer as much as a request – but fine. Be that way.” She rolled her eyes. “Meet back here about ten minutes before the day is over, though, yeah?”

He nodded. “I can do that. And I’ll be around if you need me. If I go with this idea, I’ll probably be in the barracks most of the day.”

Well, at least that’ll let me see what he’s up to. “All right. I’m going to go grab Lan. Good luck, Sal.”

“Luck? Never put much stock in that. Hope we succeed either way, though.”

Hope is just as silly as luck,
she thought. Regardless, she smiled at him.

Landen was already coming her way when she headed back toward the rest of the candidates. “Hey, which one did you pick up?” He flashed the Eratar pin at her.

Velas pointed at the Aendaryn pin on her tunic in response.

Landen quirked an eyebrow. “Wasn’t Salaris in front of you?”

“Guess he didn’t want to look like he was playing favorites. Probably wants to cut down on the rumors about his heritage.”

Landen chuckled. “If someone thought I was the son of a god, I’d be more than happy to play along.”

“Yeah, but no one would ever make that mistake.”

“Hey, that was low! I’d make a great demigod.” He snagged her arm. “C’mon, let’s go look at that assignment board.”

It didn’t take them long to reach the board, but most of the other candidates were already crowding around it. It took several minutes to get close enough to see. Velas noted three postings that were relevant to her.

Colonel Wyndam’s Appointment Schedule

Asphodel – 7 Bells at Colonel Wyndam’s Office

Velas Jaldin – 8 Bells at Colonel Wyndam’s Office

Taelien 11 Bells at the Training Hall

Landen – 13 Bells, One Chime at the Training Hall

She skimmed over the other times – those candidates were the few she had personally invested in and expected to succeed. Next, she checked Lieutenant Morris’ posting.

Lieutenant Morris’ Challenge – Lysandri’s Arena

Location: West bank of the Teldymair Lake; see map for meeting spot

Time: Twelve Bells

Expected Duration: One Bell

Details on the challenge will be provided at the event site.

Next to the challenge posting was a city map with the location of the lake circled and a Lysandri symbol scrawled next to the meeting point. Velas had been to the lake before – it wasn’t with the paladin base, but it was close by. Presumably the paladins had set up something to keep civilians away – unless dealing with civilians was part of the event.

And thirdly, she noted a hastily scrawled posting.

Sterling’s Challenge – Gamble for Sigils!

Location: The Perfect Stranger

Time: Fourteen Bells

Details will be provided at the tavern.

She grinned, scanning the area, but Jonathan Sterling was nowhere to be found.
Clever idea. I’m curious now, and I’ll wager several other people will be, too.

And I’ll wager that they’ll wager at his game, too. Which will be rigged, of course.

This should be fun.

It was just after seven bells, which meant Velas had a few hours left before the first item on the board.

Landen scratched at his chin. “Looks like I’ve got some free time. Might see if I can figure out where some of those hidden sigils are. Want to join me?”

Velas shook her head. “Sounds fun, but I need to eat. Meet you later?”

He nodded. “Sure. Lissari’s luck.”

I’m pretty sure Lissari isn’t a luck goddess, but sure, why not.
“You too.”

She was heading toward the mess hall when she heard someone calling out from behind her.

“Hey, jumping girl. Slow down, yeah?”

Velas turned to find Susan Crimson behind her.

Susan paused in her step, folding her hands behind her back. “You got a minute to chat?”

Velas nodded. “Sure.”

“Good. We can walk and talk, I could use some eats, too.”

As the brunette moved forward to catch up, Velas scanned the former Thornguard for weapons.
Simple sword on her left hip, stiletto moderately concealed in her left sleeve. Interesting.

“Yeah, I’m starved. What did you want to chat about?”

“Saw your dummy-spearing bit in the prelims. Mighty impressive, that. A group of us have been putting together a plan for passing this challenge. You’ve got some skills, so we thought you might want into it.”

Velas turned her head toward the brunette, considering.
She doesn’t talk anything like what I would have expected from her file. She’s a noble, isn’t she? Maybe she’s trying to sound more accessible to me? That doesn’t really make sense, though – it’s common knowledge that I’m from a high house, too. I suppose she just might have picked up the dialect while she served in the Thornguard. Gods know I don’t sound much like a noblewoman myself, but…

“I might be interested,” Velas offered. “What’s the plan?”

“Uh, that’s the tough sell. Given the nature of the thing –”