The Source: Fireborne: Enora Online 7.5
Author: Arlo Adams Narrated Bykelsey-Ann O'Dowd; Brian Meslar
Date: 2021-04-13 00:00:00+00:00
Description: Contessa of Millbury's world has been turned on its head. When a demon invasion of the farm she's called home for all of her seventeen years robs her of everything that ever mattered, she barely escapes intact. But new allies will soon avail themselves and provide hope in the form of an academy that caters to the once-suppressed mana-born like her. But when the evil being who cost her everything rears his head again, Tess quickly learns that life might never again be so simple as it was on her farm. And when she discovers she bears a secret power beyond her control, she seeks answers to a puzz
Publisher: Layer2 Publishing
Rights: Copyright 2020 Arlo Adams. All rights reserved.

The Source

Enora Fireborne Book 1

Arlo Adams

Contents

Acknowledgments

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Epilogue

A Quest For New Readers

Get A Free Story

Acknowledgments

When my first LitRPG series, Enora Online, broke through despite the onslaught of books we’ve seen flood the genre, I knew it wouldn’t have done so but for the efforts of the people who lend their constant support to my work. As we enter this new series together, it’s only appropriate I acknowledge them here.

My wife, Emily, is the cornerstone of our publishing operation. Without her constant devotion to our business and everything I do, I might be finger-painting with a milkshake in a gutter outside a fast-food restaurant. Or worse, I might still be a data center engineer. (Ew.)

My style editor, Staci Troilo, has taught me more about craft than any other single being on the planet. She’s a wonder, and I could never do this without her. Why she tolerates me, I have no idea.

Heather L. Thompson is a golden goddess of copy editing who goes so much further than others in her profession. She is my own literary terminator, and she takes zero percent of my shit. Every writer needs that.

My beloved friend Christine Niles lends me encouragement and support consistently in the best and worst of times. She is my coach, my best friend, and an angelic presence hovering over my shoulder when I need her there.

My beta readers and ARC team are too numerous to mention, but I would be remiss not to acknowledge my father-in-law, John Thomas, who has read every word I’ve published and encouraged me to keep going.

Last, but certainly not least, are my readers. The feedback I receive by email and on social media fills me with gratitude that I have such a refined reader base who get me. I owe the lot of you, most of all.

Arlo Adams

July 14, 2020

Preface

The following communique was sent to customers who preordered the VMMORPG Enora Online.

June 26, 2051

A note to all the fans of Light of Babylon from President and CEO of Infinity Designs, Nokuro Takemoto.

Hey VMGers! This week, I wanted to reach out to the faithful players of Light of Babylon just in time for our 20th Anniversary Celebration to address the rumor mill in the wake of the gameplay video we released last week. While we expected a massive response, our players once again exceeded our expectations with over 25,000,000 preorders of the upcoming title, Enora Online.

As with any anticipated release, the webisphere is alight with speculation (and boy, we’ve heard some real doozies). While I admit how entertained I am to follow the various message boards to hear you all guess at just what you saw—who the player in the video was and myriad other wildness—I think it’s prudent to douse a few incorrect guesses that have caught fire.

Yes, Enora Online is a fully-immersive Virtual-Massively-Multiplayer-Online-Role-Playing game like Light of Babylon. But no, that doesn’t mean we’re shutting down LOB just yet! For those of you who want to continue your second lives in that virtual world, we have no plans to retire it anytime soon.

Now that we’ve set that aside, let’s address some unauthorized leaks surrounding Enora Online that have popped up.

First of all, it’s true that Enora Online has been in development for many years. It’s also true its AI served as the foundation for a new technology we’re developing that will allow people with terminal illnesses to live in virtual worlds. Yes, it’s an amazing change for the human race, and we’re quite proud of what we’re doing in partnership with nations around the world.

Although we wanted to allow for some measure of privacy to the player shown in the game footage, a recent leak that he was one of these terminally ill people we used as a “guinea pig” in testing the new technology have made it difficult to do so. Although we disagree with the characterization, the rest is true. The person pictured contracted Lubrin’s Autoimmune Syndrome. He was a player of Light of Babylon for years who had displayed exceptional skills, and I had the crazy idea that putting someone like that in a game world to test its latest iteration was a perfect way to test the consciousness transfer while saving a life. A win-win.

Besides, G3m1n1 was a hell of a guy, and I didn’t want to see him dead. Blunt? Well, when have you ever known me to be anything else?

It was never our intent to let people transfer their consciousnesses into a virtual game world, but Enora was the world we had ready, and G3m1n1 (who gave me permission to share his gamer tag once I told him the cat was out of the bag) was more than willing. Given the choice of that or death, who wouldn’t be?

While I won’t go into details about G3m1n1’s experiences in Enora (we’ve commissioned Arlo Adams to write the books), suffice it to say he’s had a hell of a time!

I digress.

Needless to say, the testing was a massive success. We designed Enora Online to be more than just an immersive experience—we wanted it to be a lifestyle away from life. G3m1n1 has proven we reached that goal.

But we ran into some bumps along the way, and the recent leaks made some of those public. I will address only one.

Yes, when the AI became self-aware, there were significant issues to overcome. As it is the first known entity of its kind to achieve consciousness, there was no roadmap to follow. No documented solutions to implement. But we successfully scoured every line of code, every algorithm. While I will not confirm nor deny any of the rumors nor go into further detail about our proprietary technology, I can assert with confidence that all issues involving the AI have been addressed, bugs crushed underfoot, and that the source of the leaks has been extricated from Infinity Designs.

Enora Online is coming!

Now, it’s my pleasure to announce the system at the heart of Enora Online that will change the way you view immersive gaming:

RealNPC(R) Technology

You see, in Enora Online, NPCs aren’t coded by our developers. They’re born just like you and I. They’re products of their memories, just like us. They have parents and have formed cultures across their massive planet much like we have on ours. In fact, here’s a little tidbit that will get the juices flowing:

What would you think if I told you we fast-forwarded the world 2,000 years to watch it evolve? What if I told you it exceeded our expectations beyond our wildest imaginings?

Well, we did. And it did.

And G3m1n1 testified to its greatness. When I offered him the opportunity to move to one of our non-gaming test worlds—where he could live and work virtually with the outside world—he told me to go do things to myself that I won’t repeat here.

He loves Enora.

And I think you will, too. Just wait until you see the real, living, breathing NPCs whose lineages are the products of parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, and so on. NPCs who run markets, developed and mastered trade crafts, and yes, adventured against evil for two thousand years. Each continent across this expansive world has developed its own political systems.

Trust me when I say you’ll be amazed.

If that’s not enough, wait until you see our completely adaptive real-time quest engine! That’s right, no static quests. Your quests will be given based on real-time events as they unfold. And that’s not all.

Enora boasts an adaptive magic and combat abilities engine like nothing else. What if you could use a magic system to develop your own twists on spells and melee combat abilities? Thanks to our latest content patch, you can. (You might even encounter NPCs who’ve tapped into this new discovery.)

But to see it in action, you’ll have to log in and check it out. There’s no way to describe Enora to an outsider. You have to experience it. The video was just the beginning, and two weeks from today—six weeks, Enoran time—we’re going to unleash you on the world.

Watch this space for more updates, and thanks in advance for ordering the most realistic VMMORPG ever conceived: ENORA ONLINE.

1

The front door exploded. Flames licked up the frame as it split from its hinges then crashed to the floor. Loose boards creaked beneath my father’s heavy footfalls when he circled the wood stove. After his fingers locked onto my shoulders, he shook me. “We’ll have to go out the back! Grab your coat!”

My heartbeat thumped in a rapid tempo with such force, I feared it might explode from my chest.

Baba swept a hand toward the wall near. “Armor! To me!”

He’d claimed the curved squares of metal were elven art. Now, they were a protective barrier that shivered then burst from their shelves. My coat hung limp in my hand as the silvery slivers zipped through the air then attached to his shoulders, his back, and his arms until they formed snug, silver armor. Clasps flipped and clicked to lock the pieces together.

My jaw dropped at the sight of my father clad in the heavy armor like some kind of warrior from the stories he told me as a child. Who was this man? Surely not the one who’d toiled in the fields beside me since I stood on my own two feet. Not he who’d cradled me in his arms when I woke screaming from my sleeping terrors.

“But you’re a farmer!”

The licking flames crackled as they climbed the doorjamb then stretched toward the ceiling, but Baba acted as if he didn’t hear them. And as if I hadn’t spoken. I jerked when he stomped atop the worn rug in the center of the floor. His booted foot shoved it into a wavy pile before he kicked the end of a loose floorboard. When it popped up, he yanked it free, tossed it aside, then reached into the recess. He pulled out a leather sheath laden with embossed symbols and a longsword of shining silver with a golden pommel.

“But you’re a farmer!”

The sword swept the air before him as he tested its weight.

His gaze finally found me. “Do you have your blade?”

Although I reached down to pat the sheath attached to my belt, my hand touched only the fabric of my hanging coat. With a frustrated grunt, I slung it over the other shoulder, slipped my arm into it, then patted the knife handle. “I have it.”

How many times had he chastised me for being outside without it?

I peered through the rear window before opening the door. Multitudes of orange-skinned humanoids with pointed ears burst over the snowy hillside and streamed toward our farm. “Baba! They’re out here, too!” I hadn’t called him that aloud in ages. The words sounded childish to my own ears. “I can’t fight them with my knife!”

The back door swung open. My father clutched my shoulder for the second time. He cast a desperate gaze from inches away, his warm breath contrasting the cold wind blowing in from outside. His words rattled off in clipped syllables. “There’ll be no fighting for you, little miss. Get to the barn. Mount up. Ride hard. You know how to survive. If our bond breaks, you’ll receive a message in your mind window. Do not come back. You must find a man named Dracin Welling. He will train you. Do everything you can to advance your skills.”

“Skills? What skills? Why would I become unbound?” But I knew how stupid the second question was the moment the words slipped past my lips.

He squeezed my shoulder until it ached. “Just know, Contessa. Everything we did was for good reason.”

“Who is we? Who is Dracin Welling? Training for what?”

“If I fall, find him. He often visits Warrington. No matter how long it takes, you must seek him out.”

“Training?”

Two demons burst through the burning door at the opposite end of the house. Father wheeled, swept his blade around into a two-handed grip, then swung it in a brutal arc. The blade sliced through one of the demon’s heads. Then he brought it around and down in a smooth motion that split the other’s face vertically into two halves. I clapped a hand over my mouth as he raised his boot, shoved it against the orange-skinned monster’s chest, then kicked it away. His sword slid free with a sickening slurp. Green blood dripped in rivers.

“To the barn, Contessa! You must go! I will hold them off.” He yanked me forward and squeezed with his free hand. “I’m sorry, Tess. You’ll understand someday.” His lips pressed against my forehead in a gentle kiss as they had a million times before, but as invaders swept over the hillside and sprinted toward our farmhouse, my stomach rolled in realization this would be the last.

When he released me, I clutched the cold metal covering his plated arm and leveled my gaze on him. “I don’t care, Baba. Whatever you did, I will never hold it against you.”

He cupped my cheek. “You’ve blossomed into a fine young woman, Tess. You have a good soul. But hear me.” He leaned in, his burnt sienna eyes gleaming. “You will learn things about yourself. The powerful would exploit them. Trust no one until you find Dracin Welling. Promise me.”

“What things?”

“There’s no time! Do you understand?”

I nodded.

My heart pounded against my ribs when he shoved me into the onslaught of snow and wind, but I sped for the barn, determined that if my father would fall, it would happen with his knowledge that my last act was in obedience.

My boot caught, plunging me into the frigid powder.

Despite the howling wind, the shrill screams of the low creatures filled the air. There must’ve been fifty of the low beasts bearing down on us, so I barely noticed the frosty numbness on the flesh of my palms when I planted them in the deep snow to rise. Back on my feet, I trudged forward, high-stepping, attention locked on the double barn doors, praying to the goddess I would make it.

A scream brought my head around to find a few breaking away from the pack in my direction. A glance at my father over one shoulder proved to be a mistake as I lost my footing and tumbled again.

The closer the demons came, the brighter their eyes glowed.

A harsher, deep howl filled the air. I pushed onto my knees then twisted in search of its source. My father stood with his arms spread out wide, grasping his sword in one hand as a shockwave of brilliant white light whipped in all directions, dispersing a layer of snow along its trajectory. When the beam slammed into the demons nearest me, they slid to a halt, turned, then charged toward my Baba.

But he’s a farmer, the pouty voice of my inner child moaned inside my head. Just a farmer, is all.

His sword swung in wide arcs to drive back the horde.

Despite my fear, I winked my eyes in succession, the same way I did to read a document in my library of tomes he’d purchased for my education in towns to the northwest. The same one I used to check the durability of my blade to see if it required sharpening.

Terrashan the Mighty

Level 60 Blade Master

Melee Power Rating: 120

Melee Defense Rating: 111

Ranged Power Rating: 43

Ranged Defense Rating: 81

Magic Power Rating: 1

Magic Defense Rating: 7

Magic Resistance Rating: 4

My father was a level 90 Farmer, yet my mind window spun this lie.

More likely your mind casts lies for your comfort. Move!

I crawled through the snow as he unleashed majestic violence upon the invaders. Green torrents of blood painted the pristine whiteness as an orange head plopped into the deep powder before vanishing.

Hunched demons formed a semi-circled around Baba, arms stretched out to their sides, long black claws extended as they measured for an opening. They took turns lurching toward him then withdrawing. Although he didn’t turn his head, my father must have sensed me there, for he bellowed a last command. “Go, Tess!”

I snapped out of my disbelief, got my feet under me. Nearly tumbled again as I fled. More of those horrible screams filled the air as I flipped the latch, yanked open the door, then hustled inside. The saddle struggled against my efforts to free it from its rack, even though I’d performed the motion hundreds of times. My quaking hands refused to cooperate as I shook its awkward weight, uttered words the goddess would’ve frowned upon. With the other hand, I tugged so hard on the bridle, the spike on which it hung splintered the wood.

Our horse grumbled when I approached with the gear, probably sensing the danger nearby, but he didn’t fight me on getting the bit into his mouth as I slipped the bridle on and buckled it. I risked another glance through the open barn door to spy three demons charging through the heavy snowfall in my direction. Every moment spent preparing the horse was laden with dread. Eyes squeezed shut, I cast a final plea into the universe.

“Please Solara, protect my father or let this all be a dreadful dream.” But when I looked again, the evil minions drew closer.

Unsure if I’d have time to get out in one piece, I grabbed a rake that leaned against the stable wall, crammed it into the saddle’s tool loop Baba had installed, where I could easily reach it from atop my mount, then shoved one foot into the stirrup.

Once mounted, I gripped the pommel, Tippy burst out of the stable, shot around the corner, then carried us away. A head check revealed Baba fought on, meeting each invader with a hard thrust of his sword. He spun in a circle, his weapon shining white with energy before cutting through a line of demons like a fire-heated poker through snow.

A black figure towering over the surrounding army sauntered into view from the corner of the burning house, throwing his arms out in both directions. The minions scurried away, then the unknown enemy turned its head. The thickness of the falling snow created a sheet my gaze could barely penetrate, but his red eyes glowed through it.

He raised a finger in my direction, then the demon horde burst forth. Their short legs launched them high aloft, and as soon as the powder puffed into plumes where they landed, they jumped again. Beyond them, the dark one reached out, grasped the blade of my father’s sword, then ripped it from his grasp. The sheer force of his strength pulled Baba forward and onto his knees.

No.

The demon thrust the sword into my father’s chest, raised him high overhead in a sweeping arc, then slammed him down head-first.

“No!” I screamed. “No! Baba!”

Golden lines zipped across the outer edges of my field of vision to draw a square. The golden frames thickened, then the mind window I’d once used for schooling and instruction on planting and harvesting flashed a message.

Your soul bond to Terrashan the Mighty has been broken.

Suppression Removed

Combat progression: Unlocked

Magic Proficiencies: Unlocked

World Map: Activated

A blue bar materialized beneath my health meter in the top left portion of my mind window just beneath the one with red liquid representing my life force. My eyes widened when it filled from the left and flowed to the right.

In the wake of your father’s demise, you have been offered a Legacy Quest.

Find Dracin Welling

Seek out Dracin Welling somewhere in Rubal.

Reward: 1,500 XP

Do you accept this quest?

Yes/No

Another howl brought my head around, and after accepting the strange invitation, I cast off the remaining system messages with a thought. The lesser demons leapt through the air, closing faster than I’d imagined possible. Tears froze to my face in the frigid breeze. Beyond the heavy snowfall, my pursuers’ eyes glowed brighter with each impossible stride.

My thighs burned as they gripped the saddle. The bones in my fingers crackled as I struggled to maintain my grip on the pommel.

How I longed to loose my knife and impale them all, but these were dreams of vengeance only a girl would entertain, and I was a seventeen-year-old woman. Despite my father’s demise, I would not waste his sacrifice with fantasies. Another glance revealed they’d soon be on us and I would face a similar end if I didn’t act. The closest demon launched, its outstretched claw raking my mount’s tail. Tippy frog-hopped, reared onto his hind legs, then hustled up a hill toward a thicket of trees.

We’ll never make it!

Then I remembered the rake. I dropped the reins. Although my hands struggled against my intent in the freezing cold, I freed the farm-tool-turned-weapon from its leather loop then swung it around just as a demon landed on Tippy’s thick backside. My back protested about the unnatural way I had to twist to swing, but the tines lodged into the demon’s head before sending it reeling through the air as the horse carried us into the thicket. The demon slammed into a tree, causing a plume of frosty powder to burst forth.

You have defeated a level 6 Lower Demon.

+337 XP

50% bonus for defeating an enemy 5 levels higher

Congratulations!

You have reached level 2!

Since you have not chosen a class, your attribute points will be assigned to Constitution.

+ 2 Constitution

You are awarded one elective attribute point.

You must visit a trainer to spend this point.

The message faded when I focused on another jumping demon, and as I raised the rake—hoping to push him back before he landed—the metal head was gone. It’d lodged itself into my first victim, leaving only a stick to defend us.

I growled.

Then I’ll use a stick.

But Tippy turned while the demon soared through the air, so the attacker rolled in the snow as we charged into the thicket. The horse wheeled again in the opposite direction, zig-zagging. The demons slowed their pursuit as they dipped and dodged around the trees. I lowered my head close to Tippy’s neck and patted him firmly. “Go, baby. We can do this.”

The steed wound through the timbers like it’d been born among them, and when we came out the other side of the thicket, the demons had fallen far enough behind to be out of view. But that would change when they reached the open tundra, and the jets of steam pluming from my aging horse’s nostrils reminded me he had limits. Tippy pulled a plow. He wasn’t a racer.

His hooves gave off a muffled clatter as we topped an incline. We’d found the snow-covered, rough road Baba used to travel north. Other farms of Gynas and Millbury Peaks would line this stretch for twenty miles, but not until I reached the distant base of the nearest mountain.

The horse’s pace slowed as Tippy’s breaths came in harsh gusts, sides heaving under my legs. I cast a look over my shoulders to find the demons exiting the thicket. They’d be on us in minutes. I eyed the dips on either side of the road when our pursuers disappeared behind a low hill. Sliding the rake handle into the cylinder, I patted my horse’s neck a final time. “Stride on, boy. Don’t stop.”

The reach to the buckle was long, but I eventually snatched it with my hands. The strap slid free of the ring, the saddle slipped to one side, then I floated through space as Tippy’s hooves clopped away in the blinding snow.

2

Despite my best effort to roll like I’d imagined, the wind burst from my lungs when my body slammed to the ground, even with the snow’s padding. I plowed through the drift, every muscle tensed as the eternal roll carried me toward what I was certain would be my end. My shoulder banged into a hard surface, ripples of shock erupting up my neck and down my back.

You have fallen.

-21 HP

155 HP Remaining

My chest heaved. My heart raced. Although I struggled to suck air, I reached out with my uninjured arm to shovel snow onto my legs. Every moment counted when demons would appear around the bend at any second, and if they spied me, only seconds would pass before the long claws I’d seen ripping through the air toward my mount shredded me.

I piled more snow and rolled my chest into it, then swept a final blanket over my head. My lips moved in silent prayer to Mighty Solara that the demons would pass without notice, that the saddle sat somewhere unseen, and that Tippy would find someone ahead who could help him.

The cold numbed my extremities and, no matter how I tried, I couldn’t steady the trembling throughout my body. My shoulder throbbed the echoes of impact. Cut off by the surrounding foothills, the wind had regressed to a whispering breeze, so when the demon onslaught passed, I heard their progress in terrifying detail. Every punch from their high leaps and every ear-piercing shriek tore at my sanity.

But they passed by. Eventually, silence ensued.

There was no guessing if more demons or the dark one who’d taken my father would come, but resting in my frosty bunker would soon spell my end. I burst free from the snow then scanned for the saddle near the road. It was nowhere to be seen at first glance, but then I spotted a high white mound. It was a stroke of luck the demons had missed where it plowed into the white powder.

The goddess was with me.

Except you’re freezing to death, your shoulder is ruined, your father is dead, and demons chase you.

As I scurried through the snow, I cast off the thoughts. My fingers resisted when I tried to grab the saddle, so I used my wrists to flip it. My shoulder renewed its protests. The rake handle slid free.

I patted my waist in search of my knife’s sheath, but it wasn’t there. My gaze swept my surroundings. Just when panic rose to near delirium, I found the blade beneath my coat. When my fingers wouldn’t close around it, it tumbled into the snow. Desperate, I fell to my knees and patted the drifts in search of my lifeline. At last, my frozen hand snatched it, but when I raised it from the snow, blood stained the whiteness below.

Open Wound

-1 HP

164 HP Remaining

“Dammit.” I sucked my cut finger, thankful I hadn’t gashed my palm.

There was no time to dawdle. I was freezing and had no idea when the demons would circle back to find me. After pushing to my feet, I peered in the direction my pursuers had gone then chose the exact opposite direction.

The compass in my mind window indicated I headed southeast.

+1 HP

165 HP Remaining

Solara’s energy would heal my wound soon, but only if I stanched its flow. I shoved the cut against my jacket.

Open Wound

-1 HP

164 HP Remaining

At least the struggle between death and life was on an even footing where the cut was concerned, but the injury to my shoulder was keeping my health down by 11 hit points. I’d need to tend that.

To run would be futile because my legs were stone, but I trudged as fast as I could, high-stepping through the deep snow, kicking the top of the powder with each step. I crept to the thicket from which we’d exited minutes earlier, my ears peeled for the sounds of encroaching demons, I forced myself forward then set my feet in the prints left by the horse before veering in the opposite direction. Since leaving a trail would just as easily spell my end should the demons return, I swept the frosty powder with the rake handle, but my body shook so violently, I soon stopped trying and hoped having stepped in the horse tracks would be enough camouflage.

Push on, little one, my father’s voice echoed from my memories.

Biting snow crystals whipped through the trees, stinging my cheeks. The rake handle slipped from my numb fingers, and although I considered leaving it rather than expending the energy to bend down, a quick scan of the woods around me and everything Baba ever taught me about survival prompted its recovery.

If only there’d been some way to tie it onto my back.

A violent shiver overwhelmed the lesser eruptions throughout my body and tore through me from neck to knees.

Get distance. Find shelter.

There were no settlements in this direction. I’d only chosen it because the demons had gone the opposite way and I hadn’t wanted to end up in their path during the return trek to their master.

The black-skinned entity’s glowing eyes shone in my memory, accompanied by an encroaching dread. But the only shivers I suffered were from the cold. Whether to distract me from my torment or to warm me with hatred, I wondered why the demons attacked a remote farm. Did it have something to do with my father?

Baba, who’d hidden from me his ability to wield a sword? Not only to wield it, but to become a possessed monster with it, drawing Solara’s energy to it in combat? What else could all the flashing white light accompanying his violent swings have been? And the shockwave that caused the ire of the demons so they left me and turned on him? Only the magic of the goddess could cause such things.

Maybe the attack had been random. Did creatures of the underworld need a reason? Were they not the evil against which my father had warned me since I understood his words? Now, I might never know.

Blade Master.

How could that have been? How could he have kept it from me, the person he spent every day with? A furious rage rose, warming my blood as I lurched forward, reared back, then swung the rake handle at an oak sapling. The impact reverberated through my bones, my shoulder muscles screamed, and I struggled to maintain my grasp upon the stick.

Your staff skill has reached rank 1.

My jaw dropped. The handle fell from my clutches. I eyed it through the impression it’d cut in the deep snow.

Rake Handle

Level 1

Type: Staff

Quality: Common

Durability: 16 of 20

Damage: 1-4

I growled at the wind. “What does that mean?”

My father’s voice echoed in my head.

If I fall, find Dracin Welling. He will see to your training.

I retrieved the staff, then swung it again. Snow caked to the side of the tree by wind gusts rained down, but nothing else happened. I swung it against the other side. Nothing. I twirled in the snow and brought it around with both hands.

Your staff skill has reached rank 2.

“Gah!” I raised it overhead and swung in a downward arc, snapping off a frozen tree branch.

Your staff skill has reached rank 3.

My hands trembled violently, so I stuffed one down the front of my pants for warmth and continued my struggle to the east. The idea came on the cold wind that I could carry the staff under an armpit, so I shoved it there—on the uninjured side of my body. Within minutes, I knew just how little it helped. Then the goddess sent a new message to inform me I had bigger problems.

You risk hypothermia.

You must find shelter within 30 minutes or your health recovery rate will be cut by 50%, and your health will degenerate at 1 HP per 5 seconds.

I let loose a flurry of curses that even caught me by surprise. What was my mind window capable of? What was all this new detail?

An earlier message said I’d become unbound and things were unsuppressed. Did that mean my father had suppressed them? Made it so I didn’t see these possibilities?

My gaze gravitated toward the blue bar beneath my health indicator.

Mana

140/140

What did that mean? Why did I have that amount? I eyed the health bar.

Health

127/176

My health was deteriorating. I checked the finger wound but spied no fresh blood, so the shoulder wound loss of 11 HP combined with the losses from the cold were piling up. New tabs had appeared across the top of the gold-trimmed mind window interface. I focused on the Attributes tab. A picture of me hunched over in my garb displayed in a frame on the left. A bunch of lettering appeared on the right.

Contessa of Millbury

Level 2 Human

(No Class Selected)

Strength: 13

Dexterity: 3

Intelligence: 6

Wisdom: 2

Constitution: 13

Charisma: 6

I didn’t know what any of this meant, but little icons rested next to each attribute, so I focused on one. A feminine voice I’d never heard before filled my ears and caused me to jerk. Was this the goddess, talking to me directly?

“Strength represents the maximum weight you can carry and damage inflicted during melee combat. Strength also determines damage mitigated when blocking with a shield. Strength has no impact on ranged weapon use.”

That was self-explanatory, now that I’d heard it. I listened to the others.

“Dexterity determines your chance to dodge attacks, how much damage is inflicted with ranged weapons, and ranged accuracy. Melee damage for classes in the Assassin Tree is decided by Dexterity, whereas Strength determines damage inflicted by other melee classes.

“Intelligence determines the size of your mana pool, the amount of health restored by healing spells, and damage inflicted by magical attacks.

“Wisdom replenishes your resource pools. The detail level of your inspection skill is impacted by your level and the number of points spent on this attribute.

“Constitution determines the amount of damage you can take and is reflected in your health pool via hit points. If your health falls to zero, you will die.”

She sounded entirely too happy about that last part.

“Charisma is one factor in determining how others respond to you. A high Charisma score results in better trade outcomes. Beings with high Charisma might escape dangerous situations or convince people to see things from their point of view.”

When I’d focused on my father, I hadn’t seen any of these attributes, just power ratings, and I didn’t know what those were. Why I couldn’t see the things my interface showed me about myself? I had much to learn about this expansion of my mind window, and my father hadn’t warned me or explained any of it.

I assumed my Strength and Constitution ratings were the products of my farm labor—pitching hay, plowing fields of mookenberries and potatoes, and nailing boards back into place in an aged barn. If that was true, then my Intelligence left something to be desired, and my Wisdom? I didn’t want to think about it.

Another violent shiver dragged me back to the present, and wisdom dictated I needed to find shelter. The pole dropped from my armpit, and just as I bent to pick it up, voices came on the winds pushing through the trees.

Do demons talk?

A new message appeared.

Your shoulder wound has healed.

+11 HP

I wound it in a circle to validate the announcement, then I took refuge behind the thick trunk of an aged oak tree. I twisted to peek around. At the edge of the tree line, a figure on horseback rode into view. With the black hood it wore, I couldn’t see if it was man or woman, but the way my knees were knocking together, I didn’t care. I stepped out from cover, then froze when another rider appeared. Then another. My gaze darted toward a sheath hanging on the side of the lead rider’s horse, with a huge sword’s pommel jutting from one end.

Baba’s voice echoed in my mind again. Trust no one.

Our farm had been one of many liberated from an iron-handed governor in recent months. Despite our isolation, it’d been commonplace for the king’s chosen regent’s troops to visit the farm to collect the fruits of our labor. The quantities they stole varied, but stories of the last uprising, and the violent results enacted on the populace by the governor, quelled any likelihood my father would resist or talk back—although judging from what I’d seen today, he could have.

For years, Baba admonished me to keep to myself. I stayed in the house if strangers passed by. Trips to trade the furs and meat we bagged from deer and elk in the woods were made without me, and I was ordered to stay inside when he was away. He’d told me the governor’s men had no scruples about visiting atrocities on a teenaged girl. But now that his suppression had been removed, and the little blue bar in my mind window rested in my field of vision, I understood I hadn’t gotten the whole truth.

In Rubal, the continent on which we lived, a boy king named Constantine Luttrell III carried on a tradition started by his grandfather. Because foul magicians brought chaos and disharmony to another land whose name I didn’t even know, laws were decreed forcing magicians throughout Rubal to register their abilities with the crown. The mere appearance of a mana pool was cause for registration.

Those who made themselves known were monitored and controlled. Outside the universities dedicated to human casters, they risked trouble. My father was never specific about what kind of trouble they might come to, but his tone was clear enough. It was the worst kind.

Now that the blue bar was there for me to see, I understood it wasn’t just the governor’s troops from which Baba had hid me. How naive was I to think otherwise?

In the present, I found myself in a conundrum. My toes were frozen nubs. My fingers were purple-tipped hardened sticks. Before me, more riders appeared, weapons sheathed in their saddles. A nagging suspicion about their identities locked my feet in place.

During trading one day just weeks before, Baba learned the governor was no longer in charge. Although he couldn’t believe the stories he heard about magical beings from Solara’s high kingdom coming to Rubal to purge evil from its face, he was left with no doubt of two things.

First, the governor no longer led Millbury Peaks.

Second, a Templar of the north had taken his place, and this Templar wasn’t a regent of the king.

While it wasn’t unusual for us to have no visitors during the winter—when there were no crops to steal from us for the king’s eastern territories—I was still left wondering if the food would continue to flow in that direction.

Upon hearing the governor was accosted then imprisoned while on a mission to the south, his men had taken up arms, formed militias, been soundly throttled by forces unknown, then vacated Millbury Peaks.

That was two months before our farmhouse burned. Before poor Baba died at the hands of a nasty demon and I set out in the snow in search of survival. And those stories twitched inside my head as I stared at the dark person atop the steed just seventy yards away.

Better to freeze than be taken by vengeful men with no hearth nor home seeking a body to keep them warm.

The figure turned in my direction. A swatch of cloth covered its features so only the bridge of its nose and eyes were visible. My thumping heart doubled its effort when I was certain I’d fallen under its gaze. The figure raised a gloved hand, pulled down the mouth covering, and yelled something at his cohorts, but I couldn’t make out the words over the wind. He covered his mouth and nose again, faced forward, then trotted on.

As relentless shivers wracked my body, my mind turned toward the worst thoughts it could conjure.

Demons amuck. Militias pillage the countryside. A king’s regent has been unseated and he has every reason to invade and start a civil war to restore order. And me, out here freezing in the wilds with a mana pool for all to see.

I zipped behind a tree to wait for the posse to pass.

3

When the men were two minutes gone, I returned my attention to the warning in my mind window. In twenty minutes, I’d start losing health at an alarming pace, and if I didn’t start thinking like my father’s daughter, my corpse wouldn’t be found until the thaw, if the wolves left anything to find.

I trudged deeper into the thicket in case more riders appeared. It wouldn’t do to make fire out in the open just to have people stumble upon me because of the smoke or bright flames.

With the rake handle grasped in both hands, I dropped to my knees and shoved snow forward until I spied frozen pine straw beneath. Although my knees didn’t want to cooperate, I raised them and stomped down the remaining snow. Then I shuffled forward to cut a channel for air to get to the fire.

The thicket boasted trees of all kinds—pines, oaks, willows, and the like—but finding dry wood in the mess might prove daunting. A fallen trunk with piled snow atop it lingered nearby, but with no axe at hand, it’d do me little good. So, I walked around shaking snow off branches, snapped them off, then checked the ends for dry wood. Any who made the grade ended up in my snow pit.

Retrieving my father’s knife, I stripped bark from a thicker branch then set to work cutting the wood beneath. Layer upon layer proved wet, but I eventually cut to the welcome sight of dryer flesh. I’d once repaired a pocket in my coat with a needle and thread, and now I took my knife to it and undid my work. When I arranged three sticks to form a triangle, I set the pocket inside, then cut shavings into it. A gust of wind blew right up the channel, so I slapped my hand down to keep the pocket in place.

I spotted some paper-like bark peeling away from a nearby tree, so I brushed the smatterings of snow away and set it atop the branch pile.

Then, the hard part. I found a piece of wood in which I could cut a slim channel for a fire board, but no matter how I searched, I couldn’t find a sturdy stick whose end was dry enough to create heat when I applied friction. I scrambled around, knowing time was my enemy. Then it occurred to me to look skyward.

Two feet overhead, a few sticks balanced on the branches of an old oak. One was long and straight. Since they’d never touched the ground, I knew they’d be dryer inside, but I couldn’t reach them. My rake handle—or what my mind window called a staff—was perfect. I poked the sticks free, and even managed to catch two of them before they could reach the ground, despite my freezing hands.

When I’d carried them back to the channel, I set them atop the sticks I’d already collected. The bark’s grasp on the underside of the wood was loose, so I chipped it away by hand. Even though the first layer showed some moisture, shaving it down with my knife proved fruitful when I struck dry wood. I added it to the shaving in the pocket, then chopped away to create a narrower, flat end.

Every fool in Rubal knew the secret to survival was to keep your HP recovery rate up. To do that, I needed to get warm. But to do that, I had to get that fire started. Setting the fire board under my boots, I set the tip of the spindle I’d carved into the channel. But when I tried to twist it with the palms of my hands, it dropped to the ground. I snatched it up, but my trembling hands still wouldn’t cooperate.

I cupped them to my mouth, blew into them, then rubbed them together for a minute. They were anything but warm when I finished, but I managed to maintain a grasp. The wood spun downward through the channel, then I reset it at the top, and repeated. Over and over again—for what was only minutes but seemed like hours in the frigid cold—the wood spun in the channel as the thick plumes of steam from my heavy breathing streamed from my lips.

Your Stamina has dropped to 30%

53/176

The last thing I needed was to reach zero and pass out. I suppressed the urge to dishonor the goddess by uttering the foul words running through my mind. To calm myself, I drew a long breath that dried my throat with cold, held it for a moment, then relaxed my chest muscles and let the vapor escape on its own. I repeated my breathing, then my Stamina started to tick up.

Stamina: 41%

72/176

A burst of activity later, it dropped again, but I pushed through until a tiny stream of smoke rose from the wood. I bent and spied a tiny orange ember. For good measure, I ran the spindle through the channel again, dropped it, then grabbed the knife with designs on using the tip to scoop up the ember. But my hands shook so violently, I had to blow more air through them then breathe deeply until my Stamina reached 50%.

By then, the ember was gone. This time, I let a flurry of curse words fly through my lips. Within a few minutes, the spindle had done its work again. This time, I drew every bit of determination I had left, scooped up the ember, then dropped it into the pocket with the shavings. I cupped my hands around it and blew into the pocket. A glorious stream of smoke rose.

You have unlocked the Survival skill.

Your Survival skill has reached rank 2.

Even though it was lost on me how I had no Survival skill when I’d spent my life making fires like this just for fun—and to impress my father—this was the least of my worries. Maybe the survival skill required more abilities than building fires or creating basic shelters.

I blew and blew. The smoke thickened. The papery bark cracked in my hands. I set it atop the burning pocket before the fire could peter out. When the pocket burst into flames, I blew with desperation until the bark ignited.

Your Survival skill has reached rank 3.

Glorious. In minutes, the flames licked at the bark, bringing the unfortunate reminder of the fire coursing up the doorframe in our house when the demons brought their evil magic to bear. I added shavings, then the driest of the branches I’d cracked from the surrounding trunks. I blew and blew. The flames climbed.

Before long, my hands hovered over the tiny fire. They itched and tingled, sending new shivers up and down my arms.

Your Survival skill has reached rank 4.

I whispered with the wind. “I just got so lucky.”

When my hands were warm, I slipped off my boots, set my feet atop them, and warmed my heels. When the flames receded, I added the slightly wetter sticks. Then, for good measure, I shaved more wood and dropped it on top.

Then the tears came, and although I was sure my father wouldn’t have approved of the moment of weakness in my current state, I did little to suppress them. But after a few minutes, I swept them from my thawing cheeks and forced deep, cold breaths into my lungs.

I turned my attention to the next step. I’d spent the morning running, trying to get through each moment. Now that I had fire, I’d need energy. That meant food. I wasn’t going to get far trying to hunt with a knife and a rake handle, and I could forget about trying to fashion a bow fast enough, so I needed to find a settlement or some form of civilization.

My father’s voice echoed again. Trust no one.

“Yeah, well, would you rather I died?”

My mind window had a map tab. I opened it, scanned the topography. It was mostly just a gray sheet, except for the area I’d traversed since leaving the farm. It seemed to reveal lands to me as I crossed them. Strange. But in the east, I spied a little red flag among the ocean of gray. When I focused on it, words popped up next to an arrow pointing at it.

Point of Interest

“That’s it?”

A fierce wind blew, then snow rained down in clumps around me. I glanced up in time to see a huge one teeter off a low branch. I bent forward as the breath caught in my chest, but I was too late. The snow covered my fire with a splat.

“Gah!” I screamed. I kicked snow off one foot, shoved my feet into my boots, then stood. Fists set to my hips, I glared at the clump of snow with fierce intentions. I kicked it, slipped, then tumbled to my duff.

You have fallen.

-1 HP

161 HP Remaining

I shuffled to my feet then eyed my map while I rubbed the chilly soreness out of my behind. The red flag stood out, and although I didn’t understand the designs Solara had on me after a morning like the one I’d experienced, it seemed like a sign. Giving the wet pile of wood a final, more careful kick, I grabbed my rake handle, sheathed the knife, then set off. As I left the fire site, I swung the stick at a tree out of frustration. Snow rained down on my head. Because of course it did.

Your staff skill has reached rank 4.

By the goddess, I couldn’t have cared less. I trudged through the woods with my hands stuffed in my pants and the rake handle grasped by my armpit. The cold seeped into my toes again within minutes, and soon my mind window warned me of what it called hypothermia again, whatever that was.

I gauged my progress by watching the translucent map I’d somehow arranged in one corner of my mind window. It’d only taken a thought, just like when I arranged things in little panels for comparison back home. Soon, I wondered if the flag was actually moving away from me. The world teetered every once in a while, and I stopped each time to regain my senses. When I set the back of my hand to my forehead, I was shocked to find it burning with fever.

This was bad. I needed to rest, but stopping then would’ve spelled my end. I’d long left the thicket of trees behind and being in the open was bad enough. But if I didn’t get to that flag, assuming it wasn’t just a frozen waterfall or something of the like, my life was over.

I trudged for another hour, then received another warning.

You have ten minutes before hypothermia consumes you.

Tremors of fear radiated through me, and as I raised a foot high to stomp forward, the edges of my vision turned gray. Little white motes danced before my eyes. I set my foot down. Waited. When my vision returned to normal, I trudged forward, but somewhere in the back of my consciousness, I knew my trek was over.

When a final message warning me of my deteriorating state appeared in my mind window, I fell flat on my back and stared into the gray sky. My legs quivered beyond my control. A snowflake landed on the tip of my nose. The flag on the map was an inch away from where I’d fallen, but my legs no longer served my purposes.

There, many miles from the place I’d called home for all of my seventeen years, I would die. In my final moments, I turned my mind to Solara and imagined a place in the sky where it glowed every day with golden warmth. The place I hoped to see Baba again.

My eyelids fluttered shut.

4

Four Years Earlier

Baba stopped and sat on the log of a fallen creeping oak between two twisted branches. When he reached for his bow, I grasped the reason for his stopping. Something was on his mind. He reinforced my suspicion when he set the tip of his bow between his boots, twisted it into the ground, then bent the shaft to give the string some slack.

One corner of my mouth curved toward my cheek, and my father took that moment to raise his contemplative gaze toward me. “What? Feeling a little impatient?”

I let my facial muscles go slack. Since my days as a wee bit, he’d been consistent about pointing out that little character flaw. Where Baba pursued a calm disposition regardless of a given situation, I maintained what he called singular focus. I didn’t care for the description. His tone often didn’t reveal whether I was being criticized or complimented.

“Not at all, Baba.” I scanned the trunk and found a place where my backside would fit between the jutting, twisted spokes of wood, hoping the diversion would shroud my lie. When I plopped down, he flashed me a rare smile. By Solara’s Light, it was a challenge to have such an intuitive parent. But if he’d taught me anything in my first thirteen years, it’d been to stick with a plan once I was committed. So, I would.

I set my own bow between my feet, glanced along its bend, then plucked the string. The vibration reverberated so I felt it in the wood. No tightening needed. So I peered skyward at the web of branches overhead. Rays of light peeked through to cast golden spots on the bark of a great pine.

“You’re bothered because the elk is on the run and I’ve stopped to adjust my bow.”

I shook my head again, sticking with the plan. “Nope. Just enjoying the cool air.” In fact, it was damned frigid. But I wouldn’t let him know it. Thick skin was important. Toughness.

“Want to build a fire?”

My head whipped around. “Build a fire? We’re hunting. That’s ridiculous.”

A wide grin spread across his face, and I realized I’d stumbled onto his gambit entirely too late.

Dammit.

He’d played me like a master lutist. Revealed my restlessness in just five words.

“Why did we stop, Baba?”

He reached behind his back, then reached toward me over a crooked branch, revealing an implement in his grasp.

I snatched it. “Where’d you get this?” A pristine leather sheath stretched five inches long, a bit more maybe. A handle of white shining stone with grains of deep gray reflected the light peeking through the trees, washing it in a mystic glow.

“Millbury Peaks, during my last trade run.”

“You went all the way to the city? I’d wondered why you were gone so long.”

He nodded. “More of a town, but yes.”

“Well, it’s beautiful.” I clutched the handle then tugged just hard enough to get it to click free of the sheath. The metal-on-leather whisper was like music. The silvery edge was so sharp, it would cut through tree branches, and a solid thickness on the backside of the blade meant it could take a beating if I needed to use it for said purpose. I sheathed it, the hunt forgotten, then offered it back to him.

Baba shook his head. “It’s yours, little girl.”

I might have started a lecture on the little girl thing. But in light of the shivers of excitement radiating through my fingertips, I couldn’t have cared less. “Baba, this would cost too much.” I met his gaze. “Wouldn’t it?”

“I guess you’ll never know.” He reached over the branch again and patted my knee. “You’ve become skilled with a blade, Tess, and it’s time to leave the old behind in favor of the new.”

I got the distinct impression he was talking about something else, entirely. But if he was, the lesson would unwind at his chosen pace. So, I nodded rather than show an ounce of impatience.

“I’ll need the old one.”

My hand slapped the tattered, aged sheath on my left hip.

Baba shook his head. “Sorry, those are the rules. You can have the new one, but you have to be willing to part with that which has lost its usefulness.”

“But it hasn’t lost anything. It cuts fine.”

“Tess, you’ve sharpened that blade a thousand times. It’s nicked and worn. I’d have you better prepared in case you ever find yourself alone.”

My heart palpitated. “Alone? Why would I be alone?”

He chuckled. “Do you think you’re going to be on this farm forever? That I’ll live to be a thousand?”

I pushed out my bottom lip, realized it, then sucked it so hard it disappeared inside my mouth. “I’d hoped so.”

He tugged at the bow string when he replied, wrapping it tightly around one tip. “It doesn’t work that way, Tess. No one lives forever, and someday, you’ll have to make your own way. If we camped by a fire every night and I told you every story I knew, it still wouldn’t prepare you. It’s a vast world out there, and so few have seen much of it. It’s a wonderful mystery but also a potentially dangerous one. Do you understand?”

I nodded, slid the old sheath off my belt, gripped its handle a final time, then presented it. My father snatched it, threw it over his shoulder onto the ground, then stood. I followed its arc and spied the bush under which it’d rolled, but Baba plucked his tightened bow’s string and drew my focus.

“Don’t come back for it, Tess. It’s in your past, and it’s best to leave the past behind. Learn your mistakes and use them to plot a way forward.” He gripped my shoulders and kissed my forehead. The stiff whiskers protruding from his top lip bit at my flesh, but they brought the welcome familiarity of his love. I’d have that the rest of my life, whether he was still there or not.

“I guess we should get going before it gets away.”

I shook my head. “Nah, my arrow got it in the hip. It won’t go far.”

Baba stepped onto the trunk then hopped off the others side.

I spoke to his back instead of following. “Baba?”

“Yeah?”

I thrust a finger toward the southwest. “It went that way.”

He scanned the area. “How do you figure?”

I strolled to the opposite end of the tree, reached down, then snapped off a dangling piece of branch connected to a thicker one. When I tapped it with two fingers then raised them for Baba to see, he spied the blood I’d noticed.

“You’re becoming quite the tracker, daughter.”

“I had a good teacher.”

Baba smiled.

5

Daylight flashed, revealing a woman with strange cat-like ears bending over me as the snow rained down around us. Her arms shimmied beneath me, then she raised me from the eternal cold. A horse neighed.

Darkness claimed me again.

Then I basked in wonderful, magical warmth.

Voices, low and serious, teased the edges of my consciousness.

“How did she get way out there?” a woman asked.

“I wouldn’t know. But that’s where I found her.”

“Lucky girl.”

“Mmm. If she survives.”

“Liatra is coming. She’ll be fine.”

My eyelids fluttered open against a layer of dry crust. I blinked. Then a warm cloth wiped my face, so I let them close again. The darkness was welcome. The warmth, overwhelming.

“Poor thing. Let’s get you cleaned up a bit.”

I raised my hands, but they were shrouded beneath a heavy quilt. A gentle force pushed them back down. I muttered words without knowing why. “Dracin Welling.”

“You’re safe now, Contessa of Millbury. Rest easy.”

Contessa.

The name my father used when put off by me sounded foreign on the strangely accented lips of the speaker. The wet cloth retreated then two warm palms cupped my cheeks.

“Can you open your eyes?” the accented voice asked. “I would love to see how their color compliments such a lovely face.”

One eyelid raised, then the other. The person leaning over me wasn’t human. Her full cheeks and wide eyes were different but definitely similar to those I recalled from the flashes of memory in the snow. Sisters, maybe.

“I’m Mashini Sherre. Your lips are dry and cracked, but I have water here. If I sit you up, can you drink for me?”

I nodded, then engaged my tummy muscles to rise. She slipped her arm beneath my back and helped me, then set a wooden cup to my lips. The cool water was delectable, like none I’d tasted in my life. I swallowed, sputtered, then coughed. The woman held the cup away until I caught my breath, then I nodded, wanting more. I only sipped this time, letting the moisture fill my mouth and warm up before I swallowed.

“Much better.” My words came in croaks, my throat narrowed by affliction.

“You aren’t well. We are trying to keep you warm. Our healer was in the Queen’s Forest and has been alerted. When she returns, we should see much improvement. So, rest easy for now, and we will wake you again when Liatra arrives.”

Although I wanted to know what miracle had brought me from a freezing death to wherever I was, I lacked the strength to protest even if I’d wanted to. I didn’t. My eyes closed easily, then the weight of sleep took me again.

* * *

A warmth of such grace it could only be formed by the goddess’s hand washed over me and drew me gently from sleep. When I opened my eyes, a woman with short golden hair cut into little spikes over her ears and forehead smiled from above.

“Your health is at one-hundred percent, Contessa of Millbury. Welcome back.”

I tried to sit up, and this time no one stopped me. The thick quilt that slid away from my chest could only have been peeled from a giant bear. I wore only my underthings, but they were dry. When I peered down at them, this woman responded as if she was gifted with magical sight.

“Don’t worry, only women tended you in your slumber. Although we’re not a bashful group, we understand some desire privacy.” She stepped back to reveal a woman with fiery red hair, a tiny nose, and wide eyes. Ears perched atop her head instead of on its sides, and a long, thick tail swept from side to side over her shoulders.

“You’re the one who found me.”

The woman stepped forward and set a hand of splayed fingers against her chest. She closed her eyes, bowed her head, then raised it again. “I’m Desini, the administrator of this borough in the absence of the master.”

“Borough? Like a small town?”

Desini nodded. “Indeed. We have raised it from a fledgling foundation, to a hamlet, to a borough in just months. You are quite safe here.”

Safe.

Memories rushed at me all at once—our burning house, my father being flung overhead by the swing of a sword, utter cold overwhelming my body.

A tear welled up in one eye, but I wiped it quickly away. “Thank you. I owe you my life.”

Desini smiled. “Speak with care, we take life debts quite seriously around here.” Although her words carried a certain weight, the tone with which they were delivered indicated jest. Light-heartedness.

I scanned the strange creature, then compared her to the much shorter woman in the white robes beside her. The one who’d called herself Liatra. I’d been raised well enough to know I shouldn’t analyze others without permission, so I just asked the question boiling over in my mind. “What are you?” Warmth filled my cheeks, then I shook my head. “I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I meant—”

When Desini smiled, her cheeks rose and fattened a bit, and her eyes shone. “Don’t worry, Contessa. My race is called mishon. You will find our borough is a place of many races. Does that make you uncomfortable?” Although her tone was friendly, a muscle beneath her eye twitched, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I was being tested, somehow.

Baba had regaled me with stories of beast uprisings and the prejudices of humans throughout the southern towns of Brumhill, Warrington, and to lesser extent in the city of Trowlsby to their north. But even so, he didn’t raise me to hate. In fact, he always told me one day I would make my own way in the world, trade my own goods, and forge my own existence. When I did, he hoped above all I would be kind to all I encountered, as long as they treated me with kindness.

These people had certainly done that.

“Not in the least uncomfortable, Lady Desini.”

Desini snapped her fingers and gave a half smile. “Shoot.”

Liatra shared a humorous glance with the mishon. “What’s the score today?”

“Two to zero in our master’s favor. It’s not fair, with him vacationing and only having to worry about Priya using his title—which she wouldn’t.”

I cocked my head to one side in confusion.

Desini grinned. “There’s a little game we play here. When the master is called by his proper titles by other than me, I score a point. When someone calls me by a proper title, he scores a point. At the end of the day, or in this case, the end of his trip to the coast, we tally up the scores to see who gets to bathe his son at the end of the day. Currently, I have three days’ worth of baths saved up.”

What strange people had I stumbled upon? Or more accurately, had stumbled upon me?

The mishon read my thoughts. “We are weird, yes? To play such games?” She snickered, and the laughter clicked in her throat. It wasn’t an unattractive sound, and I found myself smiling for the first time since…

“Would you like to see our borough?” Desini asked. “You seem fully healed, and some sunlight might do you some good.”

“Is there sunlight?” I’d almost forgotten what it felt like.

“Oh, plenty,” the woman healer replied.

I scrounged for her name.

Liatra.

Then I played it back in my head to commit it to memory.

Liatra, Liatra, Liatra.

“I would love to see your home. Thank you.”

When I swung my legs over the edge of the cot, Desini reached for a hook on the wall. She offered me a robe. It shone of purple material like I hadn’t seen before. I scanned the room for my clothes.

Again, the mishon read my mind. “Your clothes have been cleaned and are hanging to dry. In the meantime, maybe you’ll accept this gift from our looms.”

“A gift? I can keep it?”

Liatra answered with a nod.

I bowed. “Thank you.” I patted my hip then looked around. “And my knife?”

Desini smiled, reached into a pouch on her hip, then presented my Baba’s gift secured firmly in its sheath. A sigh of relief escaped my lips.

As I donned the robe, I scanned my surroundings. The walls and ceiling were jagged and stony. The air was cool, but not uncomfortable. A crib sat in one corner with dark wooden slats and a cushy pad I imagined was stuffed with feathers. The tight stitching told me the baby bed was crafted with the utmost care, certainly beyond my abilities.

When they led me from the strange room, we entered a wide tunnel of the same jagged stone walls. I noticed little golden circles with exclamation points piled on the right side of my screen. I focused on them in turn as they led me out of the cave.

You have discovered The Seran Hinterlands.

+150 XP

You have discovered a Point of Interest:

Fowler Foundation

A borough nestled in the high ridges of the hinterlands, Fowler was founded by a Shogun warrior of some renown.

+243 XP

Congratulations!

You have reached level 3!

+2 Constitution

You have two elective attribute points to spend.

A golden halo of light surrounded me, Triumphant music filled my ears, then the light filtered through the ceiling above. I jerked at the sound, and Desini turned.

“Is something amiss?”

“I’m not sure, really.”

The human woman with the spiked hair—Liatra, I reminded myself again—furrowed her eyebrows into a querulous expression that wrinkled her forehead.

“My mind window says I’ve reached level three. I saw golden light, then heard music.”

Liatra clapped. “Congratulations, Contessa of Millbury. You are well on your way to becoming, well, whatever you’d like to become.”

Desini rolled her eyes. “You know nothing of advancement, then?”

Although I was embarrassed at my lack of understanding, I shook my head. The only way to learn the unknown was to seek sources of knowledge.

The mishon woman stopped, then stepped toward me. She stood at least four inches taller, and I gazed up at her in awe of the strong muscles of her shoulders and arms. “Blink your eyes in succession and analyze me.”

I obeyed.

Desini Sherre

Mishon

Level 41 Blade Master

Melee Power Rating: 82

Melee Defense Rating: 91

Disposition: Friendly

Next Rank: Endeared

Points needed for next rank: 750

These numbers were significantly lower than those revealed by my inspection of my Baba, despite her apparent strength. But the words next to her level snatched my gaze.

Desini continued before I could inquire. “Tell me what you see.”

I did.

“Hmm. As I suspected. You only see what I saw before I met the master. But all is well. When you view your own attributes, you see Strength, Dexterity, and the like.” It wasn’t a question.

I nodded anyway.

“All beings have these attributes, but people like you and I don’t see them unless we are bound to a very special being, commonly referred to as a Mythic. It happens there is only one in the world, but he has explained to us there are more to come. He calls them players.” She waved a dismissive hand. “You will see more detail when you analyze others after you level up. If someday you choose a crafting profession, you will level in that craft.”

“Why do my levels grow?”

“Because you have engaged in some form of conflict since your mind window—or interface, as we call it—unlocked. These are combat levels. When you choose a class, it will be associated with your combat level.”

I shook my head, confused.

Desini’s lips curved into a gentle smile. “Come, we will go to the great room and discuss it.” She led me forward through the winding tunnel, where little shining veins of metal ran through the stone. The tunnel emptied into a gigantic room with a high ceiling. Thick stalactites hung above, like the ones in the caves nestled in foothills near my home. A giant table with many polished chairs sat at its center. A stone platform sat on a dais to my right, but I couldn’t be certain of its purpose.

The mishon woman pulled out a chair for me, then turned to Liatra. “Would you go and get Shabana? I think she’d like to meet our new acquaintance.”

Liatra nodded and set off up another tunnel.

Desini pulled out the chair next to mine and dropped into it. “I am a blade master. Whenever I combat the enemies of the Light, I gain experience for defeating them. Each level requires a certain amount of experience to attain the next level. Are you with me?”

I nodded. “So, I gain experience numbers, and when I’ve gathered enough, I reach a new level.”

“Yes, we call them experience points.”

“Experience points,” I echoed.

“Right!” She gave the table a gentle slap. “If you were to choose a combat profession, the points that have been allocated to you as elective points could be spent on any of the aforementioned attributes, like Intelligence, Wisdom, and Constitution. But for now, I assume you only receive Constitution points.”

“That’s right. How did you know?”

“I was once a new adventurer.”

I chuckled. “Is that what I am now? An adventurer?”

Desini’s eyes narrowed, and her facial muscles tensed. “Is that what you would like to be?”

My head jerked back. “No. I mean, I’m a farmgirl. I grow crops, tend my horse.”

Desini leaned back in her chair. “And where is this horse? Where is this farm?”

My shoulders dropped as the memory of my father’s death reemerged. My eyes welled with moisture, then Desini leaned forward and set a hand atop mine on the table. She squeezed but didn’t speak.

“Demons burned our home and our barn. A large darker one murdered my father, and I just barely escaped. I had to abandon my horse and run for the thickets near my home.”

She squeezed my hand again, then released it. “I’m very sorry. When did this happen?”

I scanned the great room. “How long have I been here?”

Desini released my hand then set both palms on the table. “I found you yesterday.”

I nodded. “Then it happened yesterday. In the morning hours. The low bastards cast flames upon our home, forced us out, then murdered my father. He was a blade master, like you.”

The mishon woman’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“I only learned of it myself in that moment. He had magic armor that jumped onto his back. I’d always thought it was strange elven art, like he said. His sword was hidden beneath our floorboards.”

Desini nodded. “Understandable.”

“Why is it understandable?”

“From your name, I see you are from Millbury.”

I shook my head. “I was born in Millbury, but I lived at the foot of the Gynas Peaks.”

“But you were a farmer.”

“Yes.”

“I assume men came to collect your crops each season.” She tilted her head to the side once again.

I nodded. “Twice a year, after each harvest, as far back as I can remember.”

Desini sucked in a deep breath then released it. “The people of your region have long suffered as indentured servants to the governor. One of our elven companions once betrayed the governor after farmers generations before yours led an uprising. I would imagine possessing weapons that weren’t intended for hunting would be frowned upon and could lead to execution. This is why your father would hide his sword, and maybe why he would shroud his past from you.”

The information poured over me like a waterfall, too fast for absorption. But when I closed my eyes and steadied my thoughts, I soaked it up, and it made sense.

It didn’t explain why Baba hid his past from me, though.

This mishon woman wouldn’t know, so I wasn’t going to ask.

She had questions of her own. “Tell me, Contessa—”

“My name is Tess.” The words escaped my lips with abruptness I hadn’t intended, but the mishon took it in stride.

“Tess. Lovely. Tell me, Tess, was it when your father fell that your bonding was broken?”

I nodded. “My mind window—interface—alerted me.”

“And did you know about your mana before then?”

I shoved my chair back from the table without knowing why.

Desini seemed to know. She raised her hand, palm out, in a settling gesture. “You are safe here, Tess. Remember, Liatra cured you with magic. Things have changed in eastern Rubal, and I think it’s time someone enlightened you. Would you lend your ear?”

6

Another mishon woman with wrinkled features approached from my right. She set a pitcher and three cups on the table. She wiped her hands on the apron and shifted the braid from her shoulder to her back. “I thought you might like refreshments.”

She set the things down, threw me a quick glance, then turned to go.

“Thank you,” Desini called out. “Would you like some juice?”

Despite the healing magic Liatra used to cure my illness, my shoulders hung heavy. The sweetness might lift my energy. My stomach grumbled.

Desini’s eyes trailed down to my midsection, and she gave another half-smile. “We will see to your rumbling tummy in a bit. Meanwhile, let me tell you the state of things.”

“Thank you, Desini.”

“Now, where to start?” Her fingers tapped the table. “When the governor was unseated, a Templar was temporarily placed on the throne. The people of Millbury and Gynas will soon hold an election to choose their own leader.”

“The farmers would choose?”

Desini’s chin bobbed up and down with enthusiasm. “Although we continued to send food to the east so the monarch wouldn’t miss it, we decided it wasn’t sustainable to continue. Farmers unwilling to trade their children into the darkest kind of servitude starved, and the king never showed interest in the foul tidings of this side of the continent. So, my master decided he would send a letter to the king. It seems the monarch wasn’t pleased. Or his advisors weren’t—he is but a boy—because he sent a scroll asking the master to answer for his crimes.”

“What crime? A letter?”

“No, the removal of his regent. The governor.”

“Did you have something to do with his unseating?”

Desini laughed. “We kept him in a cell down that tunnel until we returned him to Millbury for trial.” She gestured toward a tunnel opposite the one through which we’d entered the great room. “Believe me, each day spent listening to his blathering was long.”

Of all the luck, I found myself in a place filled with magic users who’d unseated the king’s own regent and were now considered criminals. Could my tidings decline further? Perhaps I’d have been better if I’d died in the snow then been eaten by wolves. But my mind strayed to the short-haired woman who’d healed what ailed me and decided to voice the question that rose to the top of my mind.

“Is Liatra a registered magic user? Is that the right word? Registered?”

“That’s the right word. But magic users are no longer being registered in Warrington. In fact, when a dark presence there was removed—also by us—many of the magicians who taught and studied there formed a caravan and rode off to the southernmost coast, near a place called the Dark Wood. We have neither seen nor heard from them since. Those who remained were interviewed to see where their loyalties lie. Those who supported the king were allowed to leave. But there were only two.”

I was baffled. “Two? Only two who supported the crown?”

Desini nodded as if this were obvious. “Imagine you were a magician and you’d seen people suffer for years when their only crime was possessing a mana pool… like yours.” She cocked one eyebrow for emphasis. “The remainders showed empathy, and that’s valuable when you’re reforming a university to teach young people.”

“Reforming it how?”

“For starters, they’ve renamed it Warrington Academy. It is now a place for young people to learn how to hone their talents and advance their skills. Our first batch of students start in just two days’ time.”

“You are teaching children how to fight with magic?” Excitement blended with fear, then a chill shot up my spine.

“Or heal with it. There is much more to magic than combat.”

Footsteps echoed in the tunnel, then a mishon with the delicate features of youth appeared. Desini rose and gestured toward her. “This is Shabana. She is a cousin of mine and will be leaving tomorrow for classes at the academy.”

“Hi,” Shabana said with an enthusiastic wave of a hand.

“This is Tess,” Desini said. “She is from Gynas Peaks and has unfortunately lost her home.”

“Oh,” Shabana lowered her head and her ears lowered. “I’m sorry to hear this. Will you make your home here?”

Desini chortled. “Now, Shabana, don’t get ahead of yourself. Tess is but twenty minutes this side of her sickness. Let the girl recover.”

“Would it be a violation for me to show her around?” Shabana turned her gaze on me, and those ears had perked up again.

Desini sat quiet for a few heartbeats and, right when I got the impression she’d been put in an uncomfortable situation, she answered. “I think a brief tour would be acceptable, if Tess would like.”

“I’d be honored to see your borough.”

Anything to stanch the memory of my father being swept over head then slammed to the snowy earth.

Shabana gave her hands a single clap. “Great!” She turned her eyes toward Desini and raised pleading eyebrows.

“How kind of you, cousin.” Desini grabbed my hand and gave it a final squeeze. “We’ll talk later, if you wish.”

I nodded.

She returned her focus to her cousin. “Shabana, keep the tour brief so you can stop at the commissary. She hasn’t eaten since yesterday.”

I hadn’t eaten since the previous day, but I didn’t correct her.

“We’ll eat first, then!” Her face lit into a grin. “I’m starving!”

Even though I lacked social experience, the expression reminded me how my father looked at me when I was young and learned something new. The first time I made a fire with my own two hands. When I’d sewn a split seam in his clothes without being asked. Every thought seemed to revert to Baba, otherwise, I might have smiled at the mishon’s expression.

Light shimmered off the black surface of the rocky cave in a bend ahead. After a week of snow, I longed to feel the warmth of daylight on my face. I didn’t know what I envisioned as we reached that final turn, but my expectations proved insufficient when we stepped onto a massive plateau with thick lush grass, simple structures surrounding its perimeter, and natural stone steps cut into the edges leading down to the sprawling borough in all directions.

Shabana stopped, threw out both arms, then swept her arms wide. “Our foundation.”

I slammed my mouth shut when I realized it gaped in surprise. Green blanketed the valley all the way to high, steep cliffs that surrounded it. Narrow northern and western passes led out, but unless one could climb towering stone walls, there were no other exits. Sturdy structures of all shapes and sizes stood in the valley below.

Although I shivered in the winter chill, the sight of wide farms with long rows brought the warmth of familiarity. Since nothing rose from the soil at the time, I couldn’t be sure what they grew there, but I guessed they stretched wider than the lands my father and I toiled over.

The word I uttered was the only one that would do. “Beautiful.”

The mishon’s head bobbed. “Yes. I will miss it, but I plan to return at every opportunity.”

“Because you’re going to the academy? In Warrington, right?”

Another enthusiastic nod. “Yes. I’m going to learn healing magic. The masters say my Light affinity qualifies me.”

“Affinity?”

“Oh, yes. In your attributes pane, scroll to the bottom.” She winked her eyes in succession to analyze me. My breath hitched in my chest because my father’s warnings about analyzing people without permission stood in contradiction to the easy way this mishon woman inspected me. But she seemed only to glance, then she nodded. “I see you have a mana pool, as well, but I cannot see your affinities. The goddess doesn’t show us these things.” The speedy ramble of her words outpaced my brain, so accustomed was I to my father’s intentional and precise diction. When I caught up, I decided I hadn’t communicated my question very well because she hadn’t answered it.

“But what does it mean? Affinity.”

“Oh. Are you still bound to your parents?”

My heartbeat slowed as the violent end of my baba returned to my mind.

Shabana must have read something in my features because she pressed one hand to her heart and reached out with the other as if she’d grasp my shoulder, though she didn’t quite complete the motion. Those feline ears dipped again. “I didn’t mean to be nosy.” Even when she apologized, her words came in a stream of closely connected syllables. “It’s just that you can learn about your affinity and anything else in your interface by focusing on the word or phrases you want to understand better.”

It wasn’t like my mind window was new to me, and I’d been focusing on items to learn their meanings all my life, but all I could muster was spent trying to maintain pace with the words spewing forth from her thin lips. I squinted and set my gaze on her mouth as she continued.

“So, if you go to your attributes tab, you can scroll down to Magic Affinities, then focus on a label to receive an explanation.”

It was the same tab I’d noticed when Baba died and the expanded mind window was unlocked. I just hadn’t scrolled down. I nodded.

“Oh! Good! You should learn all about these things.”

My gaze stopped on my breathing portrait in the interface. Even though I hadn’t bathed in a couple days, my short black hair shone in the light of Solara’s star, and the purple robe adorning my figure gave off brilliant reflections. My focus went to the robe, and the little tab at the top of the screen changed.

Text filled the screen beneath the tab.

Luminous Robe of the Acolyte

Level 3

Type: Robe

Slot: Body

Quality: Rare

Durability: 72 of 75

+1 Intelligence

When I turned my gaze to Shabana, the text faded so I saw her clearly. She stared into the distance, waiting patiently, but also tapping one foot. Returning to the Attributes tab, I scrolled down.

Contessa of Millbury

Level 3 Human

(No Class Selected)

Strength: 13

Dexterity: 3

Intelligence: 7 (1)

Wisdom: 2

Constitution: 15

Charisma: 6

Weapon Skills:

Staff: 4

General Skills:

Survival: 4

Magic Schools:

Light Magic: 0

Shadow Magic: 0

Nature Magic: 0

Status Effects:

None

Affinities:

Learned Languages:

Common

Magic Affinities:

Potential: 100%

Light: 23%

Shadow: 91%

I noted how my intelligence had notched up a point from before, but the messages earlier warned I couldn’t spend points anywhere until I found an attributes trainer. Then I recalled the last line describing the robe Liatra had given me.

+1 Intelligence

That made sense, but another thing brought an itch to my mind. “Why do we see only power ratings when we analyze others?”

Shabana tilted her head to one side, adopted a distant gaze, then she blinked. “Oh. I understand. It wasn’t so long ago I asked the master the same question. There’s no easy answer. Melee Power, Melee Defense, Magic Power, Magic Defense, Ranged Power, and Ranged Defense are probably cumulative ratings based on the overall statistics you can’t see. Do you understand?”

I shook my head.

“Okay, let me explain it this way. I can see your health, your mana, and your power ratings—sad as they are.” I frowned, then she slapped my shoulder. “I’m joking. We all start somewhere, and I don’t have a lot of room to brag.” Her gaze darted skyward. “Where was I? Oh! Right! So, your Melee Power Rating is five. Your melee attributes—like Strength and Dexterity—are combined somehow to make up that rating. If they are cumulative, the calculations are beyond me. I hope to learn more at the academy.”

I twisted my lips to one side. If I considered her explanation from the perspective of her blade dancer cousin, the reasons for the attributes became clearer.

Although I didn’t want to appear naive or downright stupid, curiosity’s fires sparked to life in my belly, so I decided to voice my theory. “So, if I understand, the goddess provides us these power ratings as simpler ways to analyze an enemy so we can decide if it’s wise to engage with them. Am I right?”

Shabana dropped her fist to her hip. “I only hope I can remember how you said that later. Why, now it makes more sense to me than it did before.” She unfurled one fist and shook a finger in the air. “You know, I think I like you. We could be friends. You’re smart.”

My worries about appearing ignorant seemed unfounded, and I couldn’t suppress my smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now, let’s hit the commissary. I’m starved.”

We strolled across the grass field of the plateau, and Shabana pointed at the buildings surrounding us in turns. She started on the right. “The one with smoke rising is the smithy. All our armor, weapons, and tools get made there.”

“Oh, wonderful.”

She nodded. “Just past that is the alchemist’s shop. I don’t know why they set them up here when there’s so much space below, but I suspect they wanted to allow for growth—more people, which means more food, which means more farms. Right now, we have an abundance of food for our fifty-seven people. There’s also a barracks with an archery range down the steps over there,” she pointed a finger to the northwest, “and we just upgraded the row houses where we sleep to apartments. Strange name, but it is what it is. Those are the stacked buildings down there.” She pointed to the southwest. “There’s also a fishery by that river.”

We passed a low building on our left she called the Master’s Cabin. Just beyond that was the Architect’s Cabin. And finally, the sprawling building with a wide trellis reaching to the edge of the steps was the Commissary. They took their meals there.

Rows of wooden tables with benches and a few circular ones with chairs covered the floor inside the commissary, but the first thing I noticed was all the tails and cat ears. The mishon filled the place, and their constant chatter filled the air.

The aroma of meat made my stomach grumble. A delicious smell of cooking greens and spices also swept to my nostrils. “Smells wonderful.”

Shabana nodded. “You’ll love the food. I’m a food girl. I live for food. Food is… well, I’m boring you. It’s on that shelf under the bamboo coverings. Would you like to meet some people while we eat?”

I scanned the midday crowd seated around the tables, and a surge of trepidation washed over me.

Shabana read me like a mind window document. “Shy, are you? That’s okay. We can sit over at one of the round tables in the corner, there.”

Relief washed over me as I raised one of the bamboo covers to reveal a ham steak with little patches of brown where they were fried. A slice of yellow fruit I didn’t recognize was cut in a circle and browned like the flesh of the ham it lay atop. “What’s that?”

“Pineapple. We have a grove of trees with different fruits on the north side of the borough. These grow beyond them on low plants.” We snatched up our plates, then Shabana handed me a two-tined fork and a knife from cylindrical wooden utensil dispensers.

As we strode toward a table, I added to the chit-chat filling the commissary. “Are you excited about going to the academy?”

She nodded while chewing a piece of ham then swallowed. “Very. If I can excel in the magic arts, I might be able to join combat parties later and battle the demons and monsters that plague Rubal.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

She raised one shoulder. “The master sees to our safety.” Shabana gripped the table and leaned forward. “You know, with your mana pool, you’d be eligible to practice magic at the academy.”

Although I noticed the quick change of topic, I didn’t want to seem pushy. “Really? Why would I do that?”

“Wouldn’t you want to be able to defend yourself in such a dangerous world? They’ll teach you there.”

Magic. Combat. It all sounded better-suited for stronger people. “I’m just a farmer. Maybe I could work on the farms.”

Shabana waved a dismissive hand. “It’s like Desini tells me. The world is what you make it, and you are what you do within it. They could always use a farmer, but they have plenty. If you want to make inroads, they need combatants.”

My earlier thought leapt from my lips before I could consider my words. “Because of the king? Because of what you all did to his regent?”

Although I expected a tight-lipped response, Shabana showed me the opposite. Her teeth shone white when she spread her lips wide. “Because of that, yes. Potentially. But also because demons now run amok across the lands. The governor’s former soldiers have begun to raid small towns and farms. If the king brings troops all the way to this side of the continent, they will have to contend with those problems as much as we will, though. The master doubts that will happen.”

“And you think I could fight alongside your people after I learn at the academy?” A vision of me standing in my purple robe, casting magic against the dark demon who’d murdered my father, caused my heart to rush its pace.

“Absolutely. You have a mana pool. Magicians aren’t as common as you’d think. It’s a blessing from the goddess herself, and, if you’ll forgive me saying it, farming is a waste for one such as you. Does that offend?”

“Offend, no. But farming is my life. It’s what I’ve always done.”

“And you can probably continue to do it. I’m sure Desini would welcome you.” She lopped off another chunk of ham then stuffed it in her mouth.

“I admit the prospect of chasing down those who murdered my father intrigues me.”

Shabana’s fork clanked to the plate. Her facial muscles went slack. One hand grabbed a lock of hair and yanked. “Murdered? Oh, no. When?”

“Two days ago. Just before I was brought here.”

“That’s terrible. Did you see them? Who were they?”

“They could only have been the demons you mentioned. Orange skin. And one large black-skinned one, like his skin had been burnt stone. He had glowing eyes.”

Her face morphed into a tighter expression, her lips turned white, the muscles under one eye twitched, and the nodes in her jaw jumped. “Demons. You’d think they’d learn, but they must be fought back again and again.” She dropped both shoulders. “You should come. I would help you fight these murderers one day.” Shabana stabbed the last chunk of ham on her plate with aggression.

“How does one get into this academy?”

She covered her mouth with one hand as she chewed. After she swallowed, she said, “We have connections. They’re just starting their first class since the change in structure. Our priestess moved there to bring Solara’s Light to Warrington. The chapel is part of the university, where she carries the title of master. Masters are teachers. She’s sponsoring me, and I’m sure she could get you in.

The idea was ridiculous. My farm was gone. Baba was gone. I had no one, and while the idea of retribution against the murdering minions of the underworld held a hefty measure of attraction, I was barely a woman.

Baba’s voice sent a reminder from eternity. You must find a man named Dracin Welling. He will train you. Do everything you can to advance your skills.

“Did you check your magic affinity? The academy will offer Light and Shadow curriculums, and the faculty will ask.”

Although her persistence nagged at me, I nodded, then checked again.

Magic Affinities:

Potential: 100%

Light: 23%

Shadow: 91%

Since I’d been distracted earlier, my review of the numbers took me by surprise. Were they as high as they seemed? If I told them about the Shadow affinity, would the instructors force me away from Shabana to teach me only that curriculum? The day seemed to bring more questions than answers, and I longed for companionship, so I decided to keep it simple.

In other words, I lied. Well, omitted.

“My Light affinity is twenty-three percent.”

“Oh, that’s not bad at all, if you have any potential. What’s that score?”

I struggled over whether to tell her. What if they sent me away to this academy despite my desires? But something in the relaxed expression on her soft features lured the truth. “One hundred percent.”

“You read it wrong.”

I shook my head. “But I didn’t.”

Her jaw dropped. “Do you trifle with me?”

My head twisted faster. “I would never.”

She shoved the chair with the back of her legs so hard when she rose, it teetered, but it managed to stay on upright. Those curious ears strained so hard forward, I imagined they might pop right off. “Farmer, indeed.” She whipped the fingers of one hand toward her chest. “Come. We have to tell Desini.”

I stuffed the last mouthful of food into my mouth before rising. We set our plates on a table against the wall. “Shouldn’t we wash them?”

She shook her head. “We have people for that.” When compared to her earlier banter, her words seemed clipped. I followed her onto the plateau then across the grassy field to the mouth of the cave. Her pace dictated the import of what she’d learned about me. I jogged to keep up. Before we entered the shadowy mouth, an ear-splitting ringing echoed up and down the tunnel.

Shabana wheeled around. “Invasion!” She sped onto then across the plateau. The mishon ran so fast, I couldn’t match half her pace. When she came to a halt, I sidled up next to her then glanced down, across the valley toward the western pass.

Low figures skittered into the valley, and I recognized them immediately. Orange skin. Pointed ears.

Demons. They found me.

7

A wooden platform dropped with a heavy thud from a massive building down the steps and to our right. Beneath it, a deep trench boasted thick spears jutting from the ground. Warriors clad in gleaming armor and carrying shields half their height burst into the daylight then sped across the bridge. When they collided with the incoming attackers, Shabana grabbed my elbow and tugged.

“We have to get to the safe area.”

I resisted, but when she tugged harder, I followed.

Before we reached the cave’s mouth, a burning heat rose up the back of my neck. My temples throbbed violently. The world tilted. I screeched to a halt as flashing motes danced before me. Whirling around, I found a low, orange-skinned creature with glowing red eyes staring up at me. The muscles supporting my knees faltered, and I almost dropped to the ground as memories of these same creatures flooding the countryside two days prior zipped through my mind.

The demon raised one hand, then its fingers burst into flame. The daylight darkened as a red hue coated my vision. The muscles in my arms and legs tensed, filled with hot fire. A foul hunger to exact revenge upon the creature fed the flames, and my teeth clenched involuntarily as anger swelled inside.

Without a thought, I shoved Shabana to one side. An explosion of crimson light filled the air, then the world faded to black.

* * *

Although I didn’t know how much time passed, Shabana stood before me when the glow of Solara’s star filled the world again. The mishon’s eyes bloomed so wide, I wouldn’t have known members of her race were born with eyelids.

“What happened?”

She shook her head. When she spoke, her soft words barely reached my ears. “There’s no time.” After a tentative step forward, she pressed the back of one hand to my cheek then yanked it away to cradle it at her chest. “You burn with fever. Come.”

Shabana gripped my hand, dragged me toward the cave once more, then released her hold once she was certain I’d follow. The world beyond blurred as I turned my focus to my mind window and lines of text filling a pane set to one side with a flashing red frame.

You have defeated a level 5 Lower Demon.

+197 XP

You have discovered The Source.

You are being offered a Legacy Quest.

The Source

Learn more about the mysterious source of High Shadow power.

Only one of such high affinity in Shadow magic can channel the power of the below, but such energy comes with risks. Find a way to learn more about your special ability to unlock your potential.

Reward: 3,000 XP

One offensive spell from the Shadow Arts

Do you wish to accept this quest?

Yes/No

Because I’d want to investigate later, I once again accepted a quest then swept the window away. Otherwise, I might have tripped while the defenders of the strange foundations roared their battle cries against the demons behind us.

But how had I defeated anything? Last I recalled, I’d been engulfed by heat and—

A short figure with green skin and long golden hair sped by us. Her head rose only to my chest, and I blanched in surprise as her short legs carried her toward the cave.

“What is that?”

Shabana hesitated, casting a furtive glance my way as she fast-walked beside me. “That’s Lucias. She’s a half-goblin. And the foundation’s chief architect.”

“A goblin?”

The shadow of the cave fell over us as the mishon answered. “Half-goblin. Her brother is our spiritual advisor. A priest, of sorts, though his disposition might lead you to think otherwise.”

We passed around the bend, and I shook my head in disbelief at the new races I’d seen that day. Demons. The mishon with their high ears, long tails, and undeniable speed. A goblin—or half-goblin. The great room came into view as a muscular figure who came up to my shoulders burst past me carrying an axe. His chin jutted to reveal a lower row of teeth with two long tusks on either side.

“What… is that?”

“An orc. He’s a summoned laborer.”

My breath hitched as I struggled against my faltering stamina. “What do you mean, summoned?”

“Long story. C’mon.”

Desini burst past us in the opposite direction clutching swords in either hand. One glowed with a purplish hue. She wore metal shorts and a midriff-revealing metal top. It seemed the conversation Shabana wanted to have with her about my magic potential would have to wait, but I longed to hear what, exactly, it all meant.

We approached the table where I’d sat with Desini. I skidded to a sudden halt when a horizontal beam of light split the world before me then popped outward to form a shimmering oval framed in blue energy. Through it, I spied high spires of gray brick towering behind lean soldiers with high, pointed ears adorned in gleaming white armor. I jumped back from the magic out of instinct.

One of the men stepped through. Without a word, he hustled past, speeding down the tunnel toward daylight. His armor clanged with each motion. Two more jumped through, then another.

Shabana yanked me aside. “Elves from the Queen’s Forest. Maybe someday we’ll advance and fight with them, but for now, come!”

This mishon’s insistence that I consider a new life when I’d only just woken to this one might’ve been irritating if not for her unbridled enthusiasm.

We wound down a tunnel on the left, but after just a few steps, the world tilted again. A bead of sweat rolled into one eye. I tumbled to one knee when I reached up to wipe it away, as if the simple motion sent my body into imbalance. For the third time in as many minutes, Shabana grabbed me.

What’s happening to me?

“Tess, are you unwell?”

“Just… hot.”

Shabana drew me to my feet then shoved her shoulder against my midsection as she threw my arm over her back. Unable to raise the weakest protest, I was swept into the air and onto the mishon’s shoulder.

After a jaunt through the dimness, lit only by specks of light emanating from within the strange rock walls, we came to a wide cavern with a pool in its center. People sat atop the stout rock wall surrounding the water, and I spied the goblin woman talking to a rare mishon man with broad shoulders. His tail was thinner than those of his female counterparts.

Shabana lowered me to my feet, squared my shoulders with both hands, then helped me settle on the rock wall containing the pool. I squinted to better make out the scene.

“Oh, you don’t have vision for darkness, right?”

“Right. It’s pretty dim in here.”

“You’re a rare breed in this place. Some have the natural ability to see in dark places, while others use magic. You will learn seeing spells if you come to the academy. They’re very common.”

Another wave of hot blood pushed into my cheeks and forehead, causing me to teeter. Shabana grabbed me, and before I knew it, she unclasped my robe. My head swiveled to eye the crowd surrounding me then I tried to pull away, but she wasn’t having it. “It’s no time for modesty. You’re burning up and you’re under my protection. You must trust me.”

Before I could debate the topic, she whipped away my robe then lowered me into the water. The half-goblin woman rushed over to assist.

A quiet fell over the cavern when I slipped into the cool water, and although I hoped the quiet dispositions of its occupants was intended to evade detection in case any enemies made it into the cave, I could feel their eyes bearing down on me. Whether out of suspicion or concern, it made little difference. Shabana cupped her hands, dipped them into the water, then poured it over my hair, careful not to let it run in my eyes. The heat dissipated.

A little while later, the bell rang again in the distance, and once she’d decided that whatever ailed me was gone, I dressed as they all entered the tunnel again in pairs.

Shabana stopped at the table and we sat. “I messaged Liatra and Desini. They’re on their way.”

“Has the threat passed?”

“Oh, sorry. Yes.” She peered around the great room. “Doesn’t look like anyone on our side fell.”

Although I wasn’t sure how she could tell, I asked a follow-up. “And on theirs?”

She cocked her head up and gazed over my shoulder toward the tunnel leading outside. “Here, we can ask Pulo.” She waved. “Foreman Pulo?”

A rather short and stout figure with a long, braided beard stomped up to the table. A hammer with a golden head dangled from a tool belt clasped around his waist. “Aye, Miss Shabana.”

A dwarf!

I’d heard from Father the burly humanoids lived in mountain caverns, but I had never seen one. His descriptions had been perfect, though.

“Casualties?”

“Every demon who entered was dispatched. About the same as usual. Our defenses have improved significantly.” An expression swept across Pulo’s face similar to one that would grace my father’s features when I learned a new skill. He noticed me then half-bowed. “Nice to meet ya, young lady. I’m Pulo, foreman of this foundation.”

“I’m Tess. Nice to meet you, Pulo.”

Shabana leaned in and set a flat hand to one side of her mouth, even though it did nothing to block her words from me. “Tess has 100% Magic Potential.” Then she gave a single curt nod, as if she’d discovered a gold mine and named it Tess.

“Ohhhh, aye. A gift from the goddess, is that. Will you be attending the academy with Miss Shabana, then?”

It seemed the natural progression for someone with my affinity was to go to this academy. Life inside this strange place was giving me a headache.

When I didn’t answer, Pulo changed tacks. “Aye, you’ve only just woken. Barely a meal in your belly, and you probably need to think. Forgive my inquisition.”

But his inquiry wasn’t the problem. If what Shabana said was true, and I was with the very people who’d unseated the governor who sent men every season to steal our food for the king, demons invading this place weren’t the only peril I faced. When I threw in the addition of the sudden fever in the wake of the confrontation with the demon outside the cave…

I brought up my interface and found the notification from earlier.

You have defeated a level 5 Lower Demon.

+197 XP

You have discovered The Source.

You are being offered a Legacy Quest.

The Source

Learn more about the mysterious source of High Shadow power.

Only one of such high affinity in Shadow magic can channel the power of The Source, but such energy comes with risks. Find a way to learn more about your special ability to unlock your potential.

Reward: 3,000 XP

One offensive spell from the Shadow Arts

Do you wish to accept this quest?

Yes/No

“Have either of you ever heard of ‘The Source?’”

“Aye, there are many sources of many things, Contessa,” Pulo said. “It depends.”

“‘The Source?’” Shabana shook her head. “No.”

Of course it wouldn’t be so easy. Baba had always told me nothing worth having in life came so. Besides, I wondered if the demons followed me here, and if these people couldn’t help me figure out what happened to me outside, addressing that seemed more important. “Do demons attack often, here?”

Pulo chuckled. “Before today, it’s been a while. But it’s hardly a new occurrence. The master has a way of drawing ire to himself.”

Who was this master everyone kept talking about? Their leader, obviously. But what was his story? Anyone who drew the attention of demons and kings must have one. Despite my inquisitive nature, though, these people had taken me in from the edge of death, and I owed them my life. They couldn’t be bad, could they?

The last thing I wanted to do was insult them by asking the wrong questions. If they’d wanted me to know who the master was, they’d probably have told me. Besides, if I was patient, I might find out soon enough.

Desini strolled in from the tunnel leading outside. Her attention instantly homed in on me. “Did you get to eat?” Something in her flat expression caused my heart to kick out an irregular beat.

Although I probably could’ve eaten three times as much, I nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

“Wonderful.” She ran her tongue over her upper teeth without parting her lips. “Shabana tells me you have a high magic potential.”

“When did she tell you that?”

Desini’s eyebrows rose. “Clan chat. We just think what we want to say, and it appears in our interfaces, or what you call your mind window.”

“Oh.” Warmth flushed through my face at my own stupidity. “Baba and I had a party chat.”

Desini nodded understanding. “We use party chats, too. Especially in combat.”

Combat. What must that be like?

My father and I used to sit by the wood stove or outside by a fire, and he’d regale me with stories of times when adventurers took to the wilds to battle beasts and demons alike. They were glorious tales of honor and triumph by those who made heroic deeds a way of life.

In retrospect, I understood how he knew so much about it. But I wondered why he’d never counted himself among their numbers in the tales. Never personalized them. To me, he was Baba. The man who’d taught me how to plow a field. How and when to sow seeds for what seasons. From him I learned to drag a hoe, not swing the sword he’d hidden under the floorboard for only Solara knew how long.

The recollection of his last moment in the world did little to entice me toward a life of conflict.

“Are you okay?” Desini’s tone still came flat and, despite my lack of experience with social cues, a sense of foreboding formed a stone in my belly.

If I’d been able to summon the courage, I would have asked if something was amiss. But if I’d somehow displeased the woman who was obviously in charge while their mysterious master was absent, I didn’t want to know. I was already alone in the world and, childish as the sentiment was, I’d rather turn my head and deny what I sensed. We’d had an old dog when I was growing up who’d turn his head away when I chastised him, as if his not being able to see me meant I couldn’t see him. It was like that.

What a sad child I was.

A tear I hadn’t realized was forming spilled over and rolled down my cheek. I swiped at it then nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. I just… I miss my father, is all.”

The mishon woman’s bottom lip swelled in a pout. “I can only imagine. I learned of my mother’s passing when my sister returned to the valley just a couple months ago. I still mourn her loss. But I keep her alive in my memories. I’m sure you’ll do the same. It’s unfortunate only time can numb the pain, but it will, and you must take comfort in his transition to a new home with the goddess.” Her gaze switched to Shabana and back, but I wasn’t sure why. Another question I couldn’t ask outright. Another secret shrouded in a simple gesture.

Desini rubbed a circle on my back. I couldn’t say the sensation was unwelcome. She seemed kind, and the flashes of her face as she raised me from what otherwise would’ve been a snowy grave reinforced that idea. But then she tried to sneak a sideways glare toward the husky foreman, and I knew that which I hoped to evade was coming. Whatever happened outside the cave after the roaring heat rose through my body would be questioned, and I had no indication of what happened after outside of the message in my interface announcing I’d vanquished a demon.

Foreman Pulo took his cue. “Well, if ye’ll excuse an old dwarf, there’s much work to do, and I suspect some of my laborers are lounging around the pool!” He bowed then sped down the tunnel.

Desini gestured at one of the chairs. I sat, and the stone of apprehension in my gut grew into a boulder. She situated herself across from me. Shabana took the seat at the head of the table, next to us. The elder mishon spoke. “I don’t want to rush you, but with your magic potential, I’d be remiss not to present you the option to speak with Roshan about joining the academy.”

I stared at her for a few heartbeats, taking in the way her green irises reflected a beam of light from a hole high in the cave above. Suspicion arose that her question avoided what she really wanted to say. Or ask. But that was fine with me. “I would learn magic so I could fight evil? Like in stories my father told me of adventurers?”

Desini nodded. “Many of us are such, and our desire to grow our numbers is second only to building a city where you sit.”

Wait. Is she conveying an invitation? If I go to this academy and learn to fight, will she welcome me back?

I decided to be less direct. “A city? Here?”

She nodded. “But that’s talk for another day. Tomorrow, Roshan will come from Warrington. She was once the healer in the party who formed this foundation and is now the spiritual advisor of Warrington Academy, a gem shop proprietor in the town, and the priestess of the temple on the academy grounds. She also sits on the Council of Mages who oversee curriculum development and will supervise the masters who teach classes.” Desini flashed a sideways smile. “I guess you could say she likes to keep busy.”

“Where do students live?”

Shabana interjected with wide-eyed excitement. “The academy is a magical place. From the outside, it’s grand enough, but when you step inside, it’s much larger than it appears. There are more dormitories than students, so we’ll each have our own room.”

Desini’s lips twitched as if she suppressed a smile prompted by Shabana’s enthusiasm. “It is as Shabana says. You would have your own room, and since the academy has just begun to reform and the mages have only started searching for children with mana pools in recent weeks, they are not nearly at capacity. In fact, you would have the honor of being among the first class of magicians to learn there, and when you reach second year, you will be able to aid younger students as they join.” She tapped her chin, then her eyes rolled up and to the left. “Well, they won’t necessarily be younger, but they’ll be newer. Does that make sense?”

Unable to resist the wave of relief that emptied my gut of its apprehension, I smiled. “Yes. You’re saying the second-year students would help first year students become acclimated.”

Shabana tilted her head. “You have fine words.”

Desini ignored her. “So, would you meet with Roshan? There’s no pressure. Just a meeting so you can decide what you’d like to do.”

I had no family. No friends. No way to reestablish myself at my farm. What options were there to a seventeen-year-old girl with limited skills?

It didn’t matter. I was so relieved, a stupid question left my lips before I realized I was asking it. “Would I be able to stay here, if I wanted? To labor on your farms in return for board and food?”

Desini shrugged. “Outside the master himself, only one other person in this place holds the kind of magic potential you do, and that’s his betrothed. A powerful magician, herself. If they were here, I’m sure they’d convince you to join the academy. We have enough farmers.”

And there it was. Whatever happened outside the mouth of the cave, my savior who’d lugged me from the snow, brought me here, then saw that I was comforted and healed, wanted me gone. I twisted my fingers in my lap then lowered my gaze to them.

“Tess?”

I glanced up.

Desini slid her arms onto the table then leaned in. “You’ve known me for such a short time, but I ask that you trust me. You must harness the power that burns inside you.”

The mishon woman’s tail rose into the air behind her as she leaned forward in her chair. It waved from one side to the other in a slow, easy sway.

But there was nothing easy for me. I would accept or I would end up alone. My inner voice admonished me.

Cursed child, be a woman! The warm days of living under your father’s protection in the middle of nowhere are over! Choose your own path or others will choose it for you!

And wasn’t it better that my choices be my own? Wouldn’t it be better to face what the mishon seemed to know about me that I didn’t understand about myself instead of walking through this new life in a blindfold?

I needed to know what happened, and my fear wouldn’t serve me. If I had to face my destiny alone, so be it. Questions flooded my head until I decided which would get me the answers I needed. “You compare me to this great magician, your master’s betrothed. What if I’d lied to you about my numbers? What makes you so certain I possess such power?”

“I told her what happened outside,” Shabana interjected. “And how you became ill in the wake of your display of power.”

My inability to mask my sense of betrayal at her admission spurred a response from Desini. “Everyone saw, Tess. My interface was flooded with reactions from the foundation. I asked Shabana. She had little choice but to tell me what I wanted to know. You must believe me when I tell you you’re among friends, here.”

I finally blurted the truth. “I don’t know what happened!” My frustration poured through my arms so that I slapped the table with both palms. Shabana jerked, but Desini remained still.

The latter nodded. “I see. Very interesting. You remember nothing?”

I released a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “A sudden heat filled my body when the demon’s hand turned to flame.”

Desini grinned so wide, her neat rows of sharp ivory teeth revealed themselves in their entirety. “So, that’s it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re afraid because you don’t remember what happened.” She glanced at Shabana, they shared a nod, then Desini slowly relaxed the smile.

Shabana set a hand on mine, and although my first inclination was to jerk it free, I held still as she spoke. “You shoved me away from danger, Tess. A deep red glow surrounded you, then you kicked the demon in the chest and sent him flying all the way across the plateau.”

How could this be? I’d done what?

Desini nodded. “His chest was caved in. You not only protected a stranger, but you vanquished a demon, Tess.” She chuckled, shaking her head in mild disbelief. “In a simple act, you proved your character and earned our loyalty. But you’re only level three. So, I ask you, how is this possible? How do you draw such power that you send a demon back to the filthy underworld from which it spawned?”

I shrugged one shoulder.

Desini reached for the other hand and cupped it. “And this is why you must go to the academy and learn your capabilities.” She slipped her fingers beneath my palm and squeezed hard. “And more importantly, learn how to control it.” She paused until my gaze met hers. “We are ill-suited to train you, Tess. There’s something different about you, different even than the great magicians we call family. Again, I ask you to trust me.”

Another flash of memory with the demons bearing down on me, and a shockwave emanating from my father’s feet to draw them away passed through my mind.

I gave a curt nod. “I would talk to this Roshan.”

Shabana slipped her hand away and clapped.

Desini sat back in her seat. “Good. We’ll message you when she arrives. Make yourself at home in the meantime, and feel free to visit whichever buildings interest you. I’ll send a message out so the craft masters know you might show up.” She winked one eye. “Maybe they’ll even show you a few tricks.”

“Really?” A surge of excitement caused my shoulders to shudder, surprising me.

Desini nodded. “As long as you follow their rules, I don’t see why not. I’ll send a chat message now. Shabana, do you mind taking her wherever she wants to go?”

The younger mishon’s head bobbed with enthusiasm.

“And if I joined the academy, would you welcome me back?”

“We’re always looking for potential additions to our foundation. I have little doubt you’d be welcomed if you work with the faculty to figure out what happened outside.”

It was like Desini had reached out and lifted a heavy pack from my back. But then Baba’s voice returned inside my mind.

Trust no one.

I frowned, but when Desini cast me a confused gander, I righted the expression and projected gratitude. “Thank you. I will look forward to speaking to Roshan tomorrow. Where will I sleep?”

“You can sleep in a spare apartment, or on the master’s cot where you woke earlier. It’s up to you.” Desini rose from the table then took her leave.

Shabana stood and gestured toward the tunnel leading to daylight.

“What would you like to see first?”

8

The sweet scent of freshly cut cedar wafted to my nostrils in a wide space filled with work benches and saw horses. One table made of long slats took up the center of the room.

A woman with long black braids stood at the center table. She had short pointed ears, a narrow chin, and other angular features. She winked her eyes when Shabana led me inside. Then she raised her hand in greeting.

“Hello, Shabana.”

“Hi, Latrissa. Tess wanted to see the wood shop.”

Latrissa revealed a bright set of white teeth. “I welcome you, Tess.” She swept a hand across the space.

I counted three workers up front and noticed two more in the narrower space when I approached. “Thank you. I would love to look around.”

“I think we can do better than that,” Latrissa said. “I understand you might be attending the academy.”

Word seemed to travel fast in a place where people could communicate across distances with their minds. Even though I’d experienced party chat with my father, the idea of more than fifty people in constant contact was a bit overwhelming. That happenings spread so fast was a little disorienting.

Latrissa gazed expectantly, awaiting an answer. I retraced the short conversation. “Yes. I’m speaking with…” I’d lost the name of the visiting priestess.

Shabana nodded. “Roshan is coming for me tomorrow. She’s going to talk to her before deciding whether to apply for citizenship here or go with me.” Her gaze skipped to me. “I’m hoping for the latter, if I’m being honest.” She stuck out her lower lip, I thought in mockery. “Otherwise, I’ll know no one.”

“Don’t pressure her, Shabana,” the elven woman said, but not without a twinge of humor in her voice. “So, Tess. I see you have staff skills.”

“How do you see that? I thought you couldn’t see things like that.” I cast a suspicious look at Shabana.

“I can’t see your primary attributes or your affinities for magic, but Latrissa is of higher level and can see things I cannot.”

Latrissa nodded singly. “Weapon skills, spells, things of that nature.”

“Oh. I see. Well, my staff skill is only four, and I received the ranks by striking a tree with a rake handle. I’d hardly say I have skills to boast about.”

“We all have to learn somehow,” Latrissa said. “How would you feel about making a proper staff? You know, just in case you decide to accompany our friend here to the academy.”

My eyes flicked back and forth between the two so fast I got dizzy. I trembled more with each person we met. How would I make friends? Moreover, could a simple farm girl with no experience among others her age thrive at an academy filled with young people? I felt like an awkward foal teetering on her hooves for the first time.

But when I eyed all the tools hanging on the walls surrounding us, the kind of hunger that made a stomach growl filled my mind.

An orc with a less pronounced jaw than the one I’d spotted before stood in one corner sawing a long plank of wood. A pencil rested over one of his ears. Since the people of this borough didn’t seem to mind, I winked my eyes in succession as I gazed at the strange creature.

Mogu

Level 22 Carpenter

“That’s Moggy,” Latrissa said. “A fine woodworker, and quite the lumberman. He works in the sawmill, as well.”

“Oh,” was all I could think to say.

At the sound of his name, Moggy peered over his shoulder and grunted. I waved, since I was unsure what else to do.

Shabana tugged my elbow. “Come on. Stop being shy. Let’s carve up a staff.”

Latrissa pointed at a rack filled with shaved poles in one corner. “Grab one of those, then a whittling knife. Shabana can show you how to carve designs into the staff. Then, maybe we could run an augmentation stone across it for some stats. But we want to make sure you do all of it, or else the staff might end up being too high level for you to equip.”

Too much information too fast. My mind reeled.

“Don’t worry.” Shabana dragged me toward the rack. “We’ll take it slow.”

We grabbed a tiny knife with a short handle and an even shorter hooked blade, then sat in chairs near a work bench. The wood was sanded to a smooth finish with waves of dark grain running down its length. I cast a wary gaze across it.

“Just treat it like art. Carve some designs in it. Let the Light fill you, and soon, you should receive a system message.”

“What kind of message?”

“It’ll be a surprise.” Shabana patted my shoulder. “I’m going to leave you to it. I need to pack some clothes for my new room tomorrow.” She clapped her hands excitedly.

I didn’t share her enthusiasm. “You’re leaving me here?”

She sighed. “Gah. You worry too much. Latrissa will be here if you need anything. Just carve the stick and let her know when you’re finished. She’ll send me a message, then I’ll come for you. Or, if you’re tired of my prattling, you can go back to the master’s quarters.”

I shook my head. “Your prattling is like music after a life of silence.”

Her head jerked back. “How poetic. Maybe you could be a bard!” Her laughter filled the air until she pushed through the door and into the daylight.

I threw cautious glances at the occupants of the wood shop to find them all enthralled in their work. Their lack of focus on me lightened my mood a little as I turned my attention to the stick that would become my first real weapon.

I’d always been somewhat of a whittler, and although I was accustomed to larger knives, the provided tool fit nicely in my hand. I analyzed it.

Carving Knife

Level 1

Type: Tool

Slot: Main hand

Damage: 1-3

Quality: Common

Durability: 30 of 30

For testing purposes, I set the tip of the tiny blade to the wood and carved as straight a line as I could manage. Further down the shaft, I let the blade curve with the grain. When I reached the end, I turned the stick and started at the top again. This time, I turned it as I carved a twisting line that crossed the other, then twisted it again, then carved some more, until the line spiraled all the way down the shaft.

When I reached the bottom, a white halo flashed around me.

Congratulations!

You have learned the occupational skill:

Carpentry.

Tool tip: Carpenters use wood as the primary ingredient in the construction of structures, wooden weapons, and furniture.

Your Carpentry skill has reached rank 1.

Latrissa appeared at my side. “Congratulations, Tess. Welcome to the world of wood.”

A wide grin stretched my cheeks. “Thanks.”

“Come see me when you’re finished, and I’ll teach you a few recipes. Who knows, you might even get a head start at the academy.”

“Head start?”

“Oh, yes. They’ll be teaching crafts like these to supplement the other training you’ll undergo. It’s supposed to be an immersive experience so you learn all you need to know to survive the wilds and dungeons filled with the dastardliest creatures, as well as help others through healing magic, if you’re studying the Light.”

“I see.”

“Focus as you’re carving your lines, and let that Light energy flow through you. A quiet mind is a blessed mind. You’ll see.”

She returned to her table, where she used a pencil to draw a long, curved line on a parchment. I wondered why she didn’t just use her interface but decided to focus on the task at hand.

If my mind was used to anything, it was quiet. I closed my eyes, took a slow, deep breath, then opened them when I released it through my mouth. My fingers rolled the smooth wood in a circle as I gazed along the lines I’d carved. The way the lines intersected reminded me of the sheets of metal my father claimed were elven art right up until the day I saw them jump to his body then latch together. On the piece that had become a shoulder guard, I’d seen a straight line intersect with a curved one like this, but there was more intricate detail. I closed my eyes again and scoured my mind for the exact shape.

It came to me, so I set the tip of my knife below where the curving line crossed the straight one. In the absence of ways to properly honor the memory of the man who’d loved and protected me all his life, carving the symbols I’d spied on his armor would have to do.

First, I cut a complete a triangle with the three lines intersecting. I drew another line through the center like a snake creeping across the triangle, the drew a circle in the middle.

My shoulders jerked with another white light engulfed me then faded.

Congratulations!

You have learned the occupational skill:

Rune Crafting.

Tool Tip: rune crafters enhance weapons and armor using ancient elven symbols. They can also create wards to protect doorways and other spaces. Rune craft is used for making scrolls that can teach unique abilities when the proper runes are drawn in the right combinations.

Your Rune Crafting skill has reached rank 1.

Latrissa dropped her pencil as her head swiveled in my direction. “Tess?”

“Hmm?” My eyebrows jumped.

“What just happened?” She winked her eyes in succession, then they jumped from left to right. “Rune crafting? How did you do that?” She scurried over and her chin hovered over my shoulder. “Why, that’s a defensive rune. How did you know that?”

“It was on a piece of armor worn by my father.”

“Really?” She stood straight. “Well, luck is on your side. It’s a low enough level rune that you discovered the craft. But runes are advanced magic. It’s amazing your affinity allowed for you to learn them at all.” She gripped both shoulders and massaged gently. “Tess, this is wonderful. The goddess has truly blessed you.”

A voice erupted inside my mind.

Interesting, indeed.

“What?” I whipped around on my stool.

“I said, ‘The goddess has truly blessed you.’”

“Not that. Did you say something else?”

Latrissa shook her head. “No.” She set the back of her hand to my forehead. “Tess, you look pale. Are you feeling okay?”

I squeezed my eyes shut, twisted my head back and forth to clear it, then opened them again. The voice hadn’t been feminine or masculine. In fact, it’d been dull, lifeless.

“I’m fine. I thought I heard something, is all. I must be tired.”

“It’s understandable. Would you like to finish later? You could go lie down.”

The excitement when I’d made the discovery rose warm in my belly again, and I shook my head. “No, no. I’m fine.”

“Okay. Well,” she said as she tapped the pole, “don’t emulate too many of those runes because if you accidentally add one that’s too high level, it might be a while before you can equip it.”

“Oh, that’s good to know. Thank you, Latrissa.”

“You’ll tell me if you need a break, right?” The expression of concern crossing her features reminded me of when Baba would catch me working too hard at something on the farm. His daughter, the hungry learner.

“I’ll tell you.”

She patted my shoulder a final time, then I returned to my work.

* * *

Working with the staff advanced my Carpentry rank to level six. Latrissa seemed duly impressed. She dropped a stone in my palm then gave instructions about how to use it.

Lesser Stone of Augmentation

Augmentations using this stone are capped at a rank of 20.

Cool-down period: 1 hour

Cool down periods are shortened with each rank gained, but are reset when reaching new occupation ranks and using more potent stones.

“I’ll hold the staff for you. When you pass the stone over it, you should see a meter like your mana and health meters, except it will be colored yellow. As you run the stone along the staff, the little circle in the center will move left and right, depending on if you’re moving too fast or too slow. Try to keep it between the two lines by controlling your speed while keeping the stone centered over the wood.”

“Okay, I’ll try.”

The stone glowed when I began the pass along the staff. The wood quivered, then Latrissa’s knuckles whitened as she steadied it. “A little slower, but not too slow.”

I adapted, and the little circle eased back into the center between the two lines. It escaped twice more, but when I finished the pass, I received another system message.

Congratulations!

You have learned the occupational skill:

Augmentation.

Your Augmentation skill has reached rank 1.

Success!

You have added 2 Wisdom to the:

Acolyte’s Staff.

Level 3

Type: Two-handed staff

Slot: Weapon

Quality: Uncommon

Durability: 50 of 50

4-9 Melee Damage

+2 Wisdom

Latrissa gave a quiet clap. “Very nice, Tess. The added Wisdom will help you replenish your mana pool faster when casting. Rarely have I seen a new augmenter add two points in an attribute to an item.”

The strange, lifeless voice recurred inside my head.

By The Source, you excel.

I suddenly wondered if the recent strains were chipping away at my sanity. A change of environment might provide adequate distraction.

I raised the staff then stood. “Thank you so much, Latrissa. This was fun.”

“You’re welcome. If you’d like to practice a bit before sundown, you can run over to the armory. I’m sure they’d let one of the defenders train with you.”

The door to the wood shop clapped shut. “Why would she do that?” Shabana twirled a staff in her hands. “When she could practice with me?” The mishon’s tail waved proudly in the air behind her.

Latrissa wagged a finger. “If you’re going to be a wielder of the Light, you should focus less on aggressive tactics in your early career and more on healing.”

The mishon shrugged both shoulders. “But I don’t know any spells yet, so I might as well work on my staff skill. Don’t worry,” she winked at me, “I won’t hurt her… too badly.”

I twisted my lips to one side. Baba would never have approved of my engaging in combat, but now that I knew a sliver of truth—albeit shrouded in mystery—about him, a sudden appetite for twirling my own staff as the mishon just had raged in me.

“I’m up for the challenge, Shabana. Where shall we do this?”

“At the armory, under due supervision. The new master-at-arms should be training recruits there. I’m sure he’d give you some space on the arena floor.”

“Arena?” I asked.

Shabana smiled.

Latrissa shooed us toward the door with both hands. “Off with you, then. My trainees have work, and Moggy is creating something for me. Move along, young ones. Move along.”

We stepped into a shadow cast by the western cliff walls as Solara’s star passed beneath their crests. The valley was otherwise cast in a glorious orange glow and, despite the cool temperatures, mishon, goblins, orcs, elves, and humans strolled about down in the valley as well as up on the plateau.

We circled around the building, and Shabana led me toward the Barracks from which I’d seen defenders flow toward combat earlier. We crossed the drawbridge, then passed through an entryway and into a wide room with rails encircling a hardwood pentagon. Grunts filled the air as a burly figure in silvery plate swung an axe with both hands. A thinner man with elven ears and white armor dodged then spun as the axe hit the floor. The elf slid behind the other and shoved a curved blade into his back.

The figure in silver dropped to one knee. “Gah!”

A man with sandy hair cut so a long mane swept across the crown of his head and down his back clapped as he stepped onto the polished floor. “You overswing, Turin. You must measure your strikes, or the elf will make short work of you all day.”

The response came in low grunts. “Yes, master Bruwn.”

“Good. That’s all for today.” He half-bowed to the elf. “Thank you kindly for contributing to our readiness, master elf.”

The elf returned the bow. “It’s my pleasure to serve, Bruwn.”

The master-at-arms approached us. “Well, it seems we have visitors. Are you here to duel, or did that rat Pulo send you to complain about something?”

“Rat?” I asked.

Bruwn waved a dismissive hand. “I jest. The foreman and I deal in constant mockery. What can I do for you?”

Shabana twirled her staff. “We’d like to duel a bit to get our staff skills up.”

Bruwn smirked. “Preparing for your academy training, eh? A little head start?”

The mishon nodded.

“And yet you bring someone with a skill of four, where yours is already capped for your level.” He eyed me. “Seems your friend has lured you into an unfair fight.”

“Is that so?” I gazed at Shabana with suspicion. “And what is your staff skill, exactly?”

Color filled her cheeks. “Twenty.”

“Twenty! Mine is but four! Did you bring me for a throttling?”

Bruwn laughed. “Don’t worry. She can’t do any permanent damage, and you’ll rank up more quickly since she’s a level higher.”

I scanned Shabana.

Shabana

Level 4 Mishon

(No Class Selected)

Melee Power Rating: 10

Melee Defense Rating: 10

Ranged Power Rating: 5

Ranged Defense Rating: 1

Magic Power Rating: 5

Magic Resistance Rating: 4

I did some quick math in my head. If Shabana was level four and the cap for her staff skill was 20 as Bruwn suggested, then the maximum one could rank up was five weapon skill points per level. At level three, this would cap me at 15, and I’d need to reach level four to stand up to the mishon’s skill.

Bruwn continued. “Besides, I was half-kidding. Her skill level doesn’t necessarily put her at great advantage. Who knows, you might even get a little XP.”

Shabana spun the staff again. “I wouldn’t count on it.” She bowed at Bruwn. “Permission to enter the arena, Master-at-Arms?”

He waved a hand toward the polished floor. “Permission granted.” He nodded at me, as well. “You too, young lady. If you’d like, I’ll show you a couple stances to defend against Shabana’s treachery.”

I nodded with a grin. “I would appreciate that.”

Shabana’s sandals clapped against her heels as she stepped onto the wooden floor.

Bruwn pointed at my boots. “You’d do better to go barefoot. Those bulky things will just slow you down.”

I pulled off my boots, experienced a flash of embarrassment at a hole I’d yet to sew in one sock, stuffed it into the boot, then padded onto the floor.

Master Bruwn withdrew a staff from a wall covered in various weapons set away from the arena. He clutched it with both hands about two feet apart. “What do you think, Shabana? Best of three?”

You are being offered a quest!

One for Three

Duel against Shabana and win one out of three matches.

Rewards:

750 XP

Caster’s Sandals

Would you like to accept this quest?

Yes/No

Shabana nodded in response to Bruwn’s question, and something about the way her sly smile stretched her features set off a warning chill in my stomach. But I was equally distracted by the concept of a quest as it applied to battle. I’d only experienced quests related to farming skills in the past, and the opportunity took me by surprise. I accepted.

“Good. I’ll show Tess a few techniques to make it fairer, since she has the lower staff skill.”

Shabana swept a hand toward me. “By all means. Otherwise, I might decimate her and walk away bored.”

It surprised me when one corner of my upper lip twitched and the muscles in my arms tensed.

The pair before me didn’t seem to notice. Bruwn raised his staff. “Hold it like this.” I gripped the center with both hands, then slid them apart. The fingers of each of his hands flexed in turn. “Loosen up your grip and stretch out those muscles.”

When my fingers mimicked the action, the tightness in my wrists abated.

Bruwn raised the staff to chest height. “You want to block with the center when attacks threaten your torso or head. If Shabana swings for your arms, use outside lengths to deflect. Here, I’ll show you. Maintain that grip, and swing toward my head.”

I twisted then brought the staff over and down. Bruwn blocked it with the space between his hands, and shoved upward. When the impact reverberated through my arms, I swept the bottom end of my staff in a rising arc.

Your staff skill has reached rank 5.

He blocked the strike with the center of the shaft again, then brought it around and stopped with the tip just inches from one of my cheeks. I eyed the tip.

He smiled, then lowered it. “You have good instincts. I didn’t expect the low strike. Very good.”

I suspected generosity but replied with a nod. “Thank you.”

Bruwn swept the staff to one side. “A motion like this would’ve blocked my follow-up strike. Watch this pattern.” He turned toward Shabana. “Try to take it easy on me.”

Shabana smiled, then struck out with her staff, swinging in a high arc. Bruwn pushed the strike off, then shifted his weight to his back leg. When Shabana came back around with a low strike, he shoved down with both hands so the staves clanked together. The mishon whipped the staff toward his face. Bruwn swept the strike away with a section of staff outside his grip, then he spun and struck her shoulder.

“One point for me,” he said.

Color filled Shabana’s cheeks, but what I’d seen shouldn’t have been a source of embarrassment. She’d moved fluidly, struck soundly. If Bruwn’s easy motions indicated a much higher staff skill as I guessed, she’d done well. But my heart skipped an extra beat when I remembered I was about to face her.

Master Bruwn returned the staff to the wall then leaned against one of the rails. “Tess, focus on Shabana and think duel.” I did.

Do you wish to engage Shabana in a duel?

Yes/ No

I focused on Yes.

Shabana accepts your challenge.

Our feet were engulfed by circular orange glows.

The mishon’s sandals padded across the floor as she turned to one side and pedaled backward. She rolled the staff over the back of one hand, then gripped it with the other. Soon, it turned in a blur. I clutched my weapon in a white-knuckled grasp as I circled her, locking my gaze on hers.

Shabana stepped into a deep lunge, twirled the staff in a blur to her right, then struck. By pure luck, I blocked the strike with the section of staff between my hands, but then she reversed her motion, brought the opposite end around, and caught me in the chin. The world flashed white for an instant, but the pain proved less intense than I expected.

The mishon spun when my head snapped back then brought one side of her staff around and connected with my neck. The world flashed white again as my knees buckled and I tumbled to the floor in a heap.

Shabana has defeated you in a duel.

Bruwn clapped his hands with his elbows perched on the rail surrounding the combat floor. “Good. Tess, you’ll have noticed that pain is mitigated in duels.”

I nodded.

“But your body’s other responses are normal. This is why the strike to your neck brought you down. Let’s run another one.”

Shabana grinned then walked back to the center of the floor. I received her invitation and accepted it. The orange circles returned beneath our feet. This time, she stood still. “You attack. I’ll teach you proper defense.”

I squinted one eye, and a surge of warmth rushed through my arms. “As you like it.” I charged, swinging my staff wildly. I brought it down in a high arc, but Shabana blocked it easily. When the opposite side came around to strike at her shoulders, she deflected it with a twist of her shoulders, but made no effort to counter. Instead, she stepped back and grinned again.

“Shabana,” Bruwn called. “Be serious.”

The grin vanished as quickly as it had come. She cast a lopsided frown toward the master-at-arms. I used the break in her focus to strike. My staff clanked off hers as she cast off my attack with one tip, then spun the staff in a blurry circle and struck my hip.

The attack knocked me off balance, but I righted myself and raised my own weapon in an effort to defend.

Shabana had other ideas. She pivoted, struck my other hip, then spun the staff to strike my opposite shoulder. When my effort to block came late, she shoved the staff up and under my chin again for the finishing blow.

Bruwn straightened. “Better. We’ll do one more, then the defenders will need the floor.”

I clambered to my feet then snatched up my staff. When I raised my gaze, I spied people in plate armor setting their helmets onto the rail. Others filed out of the room in the back, retrieving spears and swords from the weapon racks just outside the hallway.

Tension throbbed in my temples as they gazed down on us. Shabana’s expression was slack, and she didn’t seem bothered in the least at the prospect of performing before an audience. Her invitation came quickly, and I accepted.

She charged forward, feinting with her staff to draw my block. I fell for it, then she brought the reverse end around and impacted my shoulder. This time I spun, brought my staff around and aimed for her weapon hoping to loosen it in her grasp. A clank resounded through the arena, then Shabana stepped back to right herself.

Your staff skill has reached rank 6.

Your melee defense skill has reached rank 2.

A grin curled my lips, and although I didn’t know from where I’d drawn the guile, the way she squinted with irritation made it worth it. The mishon lunged again, feinted, then brought the opposite side of the weapon to bear. This time I didn’t go for it, and when she came around for the real attack, I parried and attempted a shoulder strike.

Your staff skill has reached rank 7.

But Shabana was fast. She blocked, brought her staff up and parried my follow up attack, then tried to finish me with another chin strike. This time I leaned back instead of trying to deflect. Her staff passed by, and I swatted her in one shoulder while she was exposed.

You have learned the Dodge skill.

Your Dodge skill has reached rank 1.

0.5% chance to dodge the attacks of enemies of equal or higher level

Your melee defense skill has reached rank 3.

Your staff skill has reached rank 8.

“Gah!” She jumped back, putting distance between us. Then she circled me, spinning her staff, flexing her fingers, then twirling it again. “You learn fast.”

Shabana launched forward. Her staff moved so fast as she attacked with both ends in a flurry of motions, it was everything I could do to dodge the moves, even less counter. She pushed me back with each strike as I struggled to match her speed.

Then the lifeless voice filled my head.

Sweep her legs.

I blocked another attack, then another, but when I realized how all her strikes came in high, and the way she held the staff well above her waist when she struck, I decided the strange voice had something.

Shabana continued her attacks, pushing me back and across the floor, pedaling backward on defense. When my back hit the wall beneath one rail, I responded without thinking. I bent both knees then twirled in a circle, I brought the staff around with all my might.

I wasn’t the fastest human in Enora, but one thing I did have was strength. The staff struck bone in the side of one knee, and to my utter surprise, the weapon flashed and swept her legs out from under.

Your staff skill has reached rank 9.

You have learned a new attack:

Leg Sweep.

Swing your staff at your opponent’s legs to disable them for five seconds.

Level 2

Type: Offensive Ability

Cost: 5 Stamina

Cooldown: 10 Seconds

Requires Staff

Her body thumped to the floor, then I brought the tip down and jabbed her in the center of her chest. The orange light beneath my feet disappeared and text filled my mind window.

You have defeated Shabana in a duel.

You have completed a quest!

One for Three

You defeated Shabana in a duel.

Rewards:

750 XP

Caster’s Sandals

Golden Light surrounded me then funneled up and through the ceiling high above.

Congratulations!

You have reached Level 4!

Since you have not chosen a class, your attribute points are assigned to Constitution.

+ 2 Constitution

You’ve been awarded one elective attribute point.

You have three elective points to spend.

You must visit an attributes trainer to spend these points.

Applause broke out among the troops. Bruwn stepped onto the floor. “Wow! A fine display!” He winked his eyes in succession. “Wonderful. You’ve gained a few skill points, and you leveled. A quest, I presume?”

“Yes. I needed to win one of three duels. And I learned leg sweep.”

He nodded. “Congratulations, Tess.”

A lilac glow filled the air before me, then a pair of sandals materialized. I reached for them.

Caster’s Sandals

These simple sandals are made to fit.

Level 3

Type: Shoes

Slot: Feet

Quality: Uncommon

Durability: 50 of 50

+1 Intelligence

+.05% movement speed

After I dropped the sandals to the floor, I extended my hand to Shabana. She eyed it for a moment, locked her gaze with mine, then eventually accepted the help.

“Congratulations,” Shabana said as I pulled her to her feet. “A fine victory. Of course, I won two of three.”

Where moments before she’d shown no sign that the crowd surrounding us bothered her, I suspected she directed her claim at the spectators rather than me. Had her ego been so bruised?

I made a mental note to tread lightly. Farm girls saved from the frosty wilds need not invite the ire of potential friends.

But the master-at-arms caught on, as well. “Shabana. Don’t be a poor sport.”

I used his admonishment to keep the mishon on my side. I bowed toward Shabana. “No, she’s right. Her skill is superior, she won the majority, and I’m only grateful she was willing to practice with me.”

The tension in Shabana’s shoulders loosened, then they dropped. She dipped her chin to her chest. “You’re welcome. You’re a natural.”

I returned a subtle smile.

Bruwn gestured toward the rails surrounding the practice space. “Okay, ladies. Clear the floor. Time for our evening practice.”

9

The demon with the stony obsidian skin shoved his massive sword into my father’s chest, swung him high overhead, then twisted and slammed him to the ground. The low orange demons turned their ember eyes on me as they flooded across the field.

Sweat rolled off my forehead when I shot up on the cot. Claustrophobia sent hot shivers throughout my body as I struggled to escape the heavy furs by kicking them to the stone floor. Pitch blackness surrounded me. I swung my legs over the side then stood. In the darkness, I sensed the room tilting to one side and had to still myself to let the vertigo pass. Dim yellow light bounced off the stone walls outside, casting a glow across the door frame. An elven man with white hair flowing to his shoulders appeared, carrying a candle upon a golden holder.

“Contessa?” the elf asked in the darkness. “Are you well?”

I forced steady breaths into my lungs then nodded. Although I was anything but, the presence of a member of the majestic race my father so respected brought a sense of security as the images in my dreams faded. My shoulders dropped as his candlelight washed over me. “I’m fine.”

As he stepped across the threshold, the glowing flame flickered to create dancing shadows against his narrow features. “I’m Guiles Renard, military attaché to Queen Simansia, stationed at the Fowler Foundation. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you sooner, but I returned late. I had been called to the Queen’s Forest to plan our defense against attacks on the northern borders.”

The flurry of words caused me to pause so I could absorb them. Even though I didn’t know why he’d be expected to greet someone as insignificant as me, I nodded my understanding.

“You called out in your slumber. Bad dream?”

I twisted the finger of one hand with the other and dropped my gaze there. “Yes. I… I lost my father recently. I revisited his demise in my dreams.”

The elf nodded understanding. “I suffer with you and pray to Solara you’ll find relief with the blessing of time.”

I half-bowed. “Thank you.”

“Come. I spied the shimmer of a portal in the great room, so I believe Roshan has arrived.”

I glanced at the clock in the top right corner of my interface. “At five in the morning?”

He nodded. “The priestess is an early riser. If you ask her, she’ll say Solara’s work is never done, but I think she shares your sleeplessness because of the challenges she’s faced these last few months.”

“What challenges are those?”

The elf showed his teeth in a crooked grin. “It’s not my tale to tell. Gather your robe then meet us in the great room.” He set the candle on the table next to the bed then noticed my staff leaning against the wall. “Bring your weapon.”

I glanced down. Upon realizing I wore only my underthings, warmth filled my face.

The elf noticed. “Don’t worry. There’s nothing new for my eyes here.” He gave an easy smile, then turned.

“You don’t need the candle?”

“It’s for your benefit.” Guiles raised two fingers then pointed at his eyes. “Elves can see in the dark.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize.” But hadn’t Shabana told me the citizens of the foundation shared this attribute? A way to see in the dark? I made a mental note to tighten up, as Baba would say, lest these people get the impression I was some dim farm creature. He hadn’t labored to educate me just to have my ignorance shine.

But Guiles didn’t seem to mind. He waved a dismissive hand. “Be well, Contessa of Millbury.”

When the elf departed, I shrugged on the robe and watched as my Intellect ticked up a notch thanks to the associated buff. The same thing happened when I stepped into my new sandals. I sensed my surroundings became clearer with the boons that washed over me, but it could’ve been my imagination.

My staff leaned against the wall next to the doorway. I snatched it on my way out but left my clunky, worn boots next to the bed so I could carry the candle Guiles left behind.

The candle flickered as I paced up the stony corridor. A cored-out sensation filled my chest. I was about to meet the priestess from Warrington. But when I stepped into the room and the woman with the flowing robes and shining black hair rose to greet me, I immediately knew she wasn’t from there. Her eyes tilted down on the outside corner, and she was graced by a lovely coppery complexion apparent even in the blue glow of the portal. She smiled as I approached, and her face bloomed to life.

“Hello, Tess,” she said. “I am Roshan, Clan Fortwan, of the eastern kingdom of Lau. It’s a great honor to meet you.” She pried my staff free of my clutches then set it on the table.

I bowed, not knowing what else to do. “The pleasure is mine, priestess.”

The outer edges of the portal collapsed toward its center, then it blinked out of existence.

Roshan gestured toward a chair before lowering herself to the one beside then adjusting her robes around her. Every motion carried grace. She raised her brows and tipped her head. “Would you mind if I analyzed you?”

Since I’d yet to experience anyone else who asked, her question carried a certain dignity. A respect for my privacy. After my nod of consent, she blinked her eyes in succession.

“Because of certain circumstances, I’m able to see all of your skills and attributes.” Her eyes twitched left to right, back and forth as she read. “I understand Desini found you, and you had only low staff skills. It seems you’ve gained a few.”

“I practiced with Shabana at the barracks.”

“Oh. It’s good the two of you spent time together. Shabana will be a fine student at the academy, and judging by what I see here, you might, too. Are you interested in learning magic so that you might battle the bastions of evil alongside other adventurers?”

Her words seemed formal, but her inflection kept the serious topic casual. She had an accent I hadn’t heard before, which made sense. I wondered if she’d been educated in schools or by a determined parent like mine.

“Where is Lau?” I asked.

“Across the Great Sea, in the east.”

“Is it beautiful?”

“I find it interesting that beauty is your first concern.”

I wasn’t sure how to take that. My head tilted quizzically to one side before I realized it. “Is that to imply I’m somehow shallow?”

Roshan smiled widely, revealing rows of perfect white teeth. When considering the rest of her presentation and demeanor, this didn’t surprise me. “Shallow? No. Young? Yes.”

“And you think youth carries a quest for beauty?”

She nodded. “Tess, I’m only three years your senior and just turned twenty years old recently. By Solara’s grace, we are attracted to beauty. But by Hokrahm’s deceit, are we distracted by it.”

I muttered words that echoed in my mind in the voice of my father. “Speak the devil’s name and he might appear.”

Roshan leaned back in the chair. “So, you are pious.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think piety is an option. There is Solara, there is Hokrahm. I would choose the Light. But I don’t commonly utter platitudes.” The words escaped my lips before I’d considered them.

“Platitudes. Interesting.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

Roshan gave a clipped wave. “I might have once been offended, but since I was swept away from my home and have battled evil where it lives, I’ve encountered enough followers of the Light who didn’t outwardly express their sentiments to know better. Words are just words. The Light is life’s power and will serve those who study it regardless of devotion. Only actions determine our true allegiances.”

I nodded because I didn’t know how to respond.

“So, a question stands,” Roshan said.

“What?” I retraced the conversation. “Oh. Am I interested in learning magic to fight evil?” Fresh images of the demons charging me and their leader who killed my father returned. “Yes. In this, I’m most interested.”

“And you would submit to the rules of the academy.” She didn’t phrase it like a question. “Take what you learned and use it with conscience?”

My eyebrows furrowed when I considered the questions. On their face, they were simple enough, and the answer to the second one was obvious. But how did I answer the first if I didn’t know the rules? Common sense dictated that the priestess wasn’t going to send a rules document to my interface to read while we sat there, so in her mind, I should’ve been able to answer. In the end, I remembered my father, and he would’ve trusted one so rooted in the faith. Despite my own reservations, since his own words—

Trust no one.

—resounded to the contrary, I nodded. The rules would be explained, and if I found them too constraining, I could disappear.

Whenever I imagined being around a crowd of people in the academy, my heart raced. I was born into and had lived my whole life in solitude. Baba left me behind when he went to trade. Although he explained the world was a dangerous place, the appearance of my mana bar and what I’d heard about the reformation of the academy since arriving in the strange borough led me to deduce that wasn’t the real reason. I eyed the priestess, wondering if maybe she could shed some light—excusing the pun.

“Roshan, what would’ve happened if someone discovered my capacity for spell casting earlier?”

She nodded understanding without pause. “You would’ve been registered with the crown. You might have been sent to the academy, but until recently, it was called the University of Warrington. While the spawn of the wealthy composed most of the studentry, there were some exceptions. And there were devious exploitations of the more destitute mana-imbued I shall not bless with words.”

The way her full lips pinched into a white line showed how she looked upon it.

She continued. “But these are new days. We take magic users who have reached their teens and help them realize their potential.”

“What happens to younger ones? Older ones?”

“The young are left with their families. Since mana registration is no longer practiced, there’s no hurry.”

“What if the king decides to come enforce his will to register them? I’ve heard this was his proclamation, that they be subjugated.”

“Hmm. Subjugated is an astute word for it.” She gave a quick sigh. “If the king comes, then this foundation and our allies will stand against him. We will always sue for peaceful solutions, but the king is but a boy, and he lives in the capital, very far from here.”

“So, as my father used to say, you will cross that chasm when you come to it.”

She nodded. “Your father was a wise man, it seems. As to the older magic users, we are founding a smaller school to the south, near Brumhill.”

“Brumhill. Why there?”

“It’s isolated. No one will take a second look at such an insignificant place. Now!” She clapped her hands. “Are you certain you want to join Shabana and come to the academy?”

I decided that directness suited because of how straight the priestess had been with me. “If I come and decide it isn’t for me, will I be able to return?”

“Although the master has final say on who lives in his foundation, I’ve yet to see him turn anyone away. He is a truly decent man.”

“What’s this master’s name?”

“Forgive me, but we don’t speak it to those he hasn’t met. In light of the eastern monarch’s new interest in him, he insists we keep the names of him and his immediate family close to our robes. Knowledge of who and what he is could bring trouble to our doorstep, and we’ve already seen plenty. But come to the academy, grow into your power. Learn balance. Learn patience. If you don’t like it, I’ll be happy to partner with you in finding other options.”

My head swelled with foreboding. If these people made enemies of the powerful, the academy might be a fine alternative to waiting here for coming trouble. I pressed my chin to my chest. “I will accompany you to the academy.”

Shabana strolled into the great room with a backpack covering her from shoulders to behind. She flashed a smile then kissed Roshan’s cheek. The woman I’d met upon waking here with the short, spiky hair appeared behind her, dressed in a fine white robe.

Liatra.

Roshan cupped Shabana’s face. “Today you begin your walk on the goddess’s path, my sister in the Light.” They embraced, and when I saw the tight grasps they maintained in their hug, I couldn’t help but feel left out.

Liatra removed a long strip of leather from a satchel she carried over one shoulder. At the center of the strip was a long, tubular loop. She took my staff from the table, slid it into the loop, then tied the strip across my chest so the staff rested snug against my back.

“Is that comfortable?”

I nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”

Liatra handed me a bag. “Your old things. I thought you’d want to have them… to remember.”

I clutched the parcel then bowed my head in thanks.

The caster raised her hands. Blooms of azure light surrounded them, then channeled from her palms into Roshan’s chest. After a white line appeared in the space beside her, a portal sprang into existence, the same as it had when the borough was under attack the day before.

Through the opening I spied a room with stone pedestals the height of my shins. Ripples of color snaked through marble floors.

Roshan swept a hand toward the magical doorway, but when I stared through at the scene on the other side, my chest hitched. That magicians so regularly used magic like this to travel long distances—how far could they could go?—struck me with a sense of awe. But the expectation I’d step through it without question was a troublesome presumption.

I knew these people as well as my long-dead mother—which is to say, not at all. So, when the priestess gestured for me to lead the way, I found my feet rooted to the floor.

The priestess conveyed understanding. “One step then you’ll be there. Just think of it like a doorway, except on the other side of this one is your promising future.”

Future.

My seventeen years of experiences in Enora were constrained by a box outside which my father insisted I never go. The new experience of the borough overwhelmed me with each new sight and sound, and the idea of expanding my world was overwhelming.

“Here.” Shabana stepped through the portal. On the other side, she turned to beckon me with both hands. Her lips moved, but her words didn’t traverse the opening.

I clenched my teeth, tightened my hands into fists, then stepped through.

The transition went as promised, but a wall of warm air contrasting the cave-like great room’s coolness sent cascading shivers down my spine. A knot tied up my gut over leaving the borough behind despite my only having been there a short time. Did its citizens live under a constant cloud of threat? Would I soon find myself back there under those same conditions?

My distress diminished as I scanned my surroundings.

Runes carved into the tops of the pedestals drew my attention first. Something about their curves and intricate detail struck me as beautiful. The walls surrounding me were covered in a papery surface attached to wooden beams, like a privacy curtain.

The pedestal room wasn’t circular as I’d assumed. Instead, it had five distinct walls on the other side of the paper. Maybe I would learn what to call the shape it formed around us at the academy. Plates of glass overhead followed the structure below, and midday light flowed through them.

Roshan followed me through the portal, then Liatra mouthed the words ‘good luck.’ She waved goodbye, then flicked her hand to close the portal, which left me staring at the paper-fronted wall behind it.

“Why the paper?”

The priestess ran her fingers over the surface. A streak of subtle yellow waves followed their tips. “It’s not paper. It’s gellian. Master weavers use special looms and their mana to create it.”

My mouth formed an O, and when I realized it, I clamped it shut. “I’ve never heard of anything like it. May I?”

Roshan nodded.

I raised one finger then grazed the surface. The gellian sent warm tingling energy through that digit then into my palm. “What’s it for?”

“It insulates the room. You’ll find it in the older structures around the academy. Stone is cold, and we want to keep our students and faculty warm. A cold body leaves a closed mind.”

“I like that. A cold body… a closed mind.” It’d only been the day before when I struggled to build a fire in a snowy thicket near my home. If only I’d had some gellian with me. “How is mana used to weave? I thought its purpose was to fuel spells.”

Roshan nodded. “Well, you’re partially correct. Where your red bar represents your physical life force, think of mana as your spiritual life force. It can be used in ways beyond spell casting.” She ran her whole palm over the surface, and with more contact, the yellow waves became brighter. “The mana is fed through the loom with a process called Light Weaving.” She scratched the fingernails of one hand in gentle motions near her collarbone. “How do I explain?”

“With words?” I hadn’t considered my own before I spoke them, and the reply reminded me I was my father’s daughter. Warmth filled my face, but Roshan smiled.

“You remind me of the master of the Fowler Foundation. This is what he calls being snarky. The way casters weave gellian is similar to an ancient process called Mana Weaving for which few possess the magic potency.”

“You’re right, this is confusing.”

Roshan cocked an eyebrow that arched in its exact center. “Then perhaps I’ll find out what kind of student you’re going to make before we proceed.”

Self-consciousness rose, but I pushed it back down then nodded. “I’m ready.” My sudden determination felt inauthentic, but something told me this was a time to prove I belonged.

“Are you familiar with the concept of ley lines?”

I shook my head. Shabana tilted hers to one side, her determined stare and perked ears communicating rapt attention.

“It wasn’t until I came to Rubal that I learned the full extent of the lines—or at least the extent to which I understand them. There are special trees throughout Enora, planted across the many continents. Born of the energy of the goddess herself, they’re massive. Their roots penetrate miles deep and tap into these ley lines to feed them with the Light.

“The energy in these ley lines is like concentrated mana. A very powerful spiritual force, if they can be tapped into. Those casters practiced in the art of meditation can reach deep into the ground and draw this energy to themselves.”

“Such concentrated power doesn’t overwhelm them somehow?”

Roshan nodded, and the way her eyelids dropped to half cover her eyes, I suspected the gesture was one of approval. “The ley lines run so deep, the casters are protected by the ground between them and the source. Even then, the most powerful Mana Weavers I know, and they are few and far between, must focus throughout a cast and draw gradual energy into themselves to manifest the special magic.”

“Okay, I think I’m with you. The special weavers, the kind who work at a loom, draw this magic from the ley lines then feed it into the paper to create gellian.”

Roshan shook her head. “No. As I said, tapping into the ley requires high Light affinity. But the process used by the weavers channels their mana in much the same way as if they were to draw it from the underneath. They feed from their mana pools into the looms. The paper is formed from the mana itself. There is no canvas on which to create the art, for they are the creators of the canvas. Does that make sense?”

“It does.”

She pointed at a sheet of gellian. “Analyze this sheet.”

I did.

Gellian Sheet

This compound is constructed by channeling mana into a specialized loom.

Material Requirements: None

Level Requirements: None

Light Affinity: 90%

“That’s neat,” Shabana interjected. She pivoted her head until she spied a stone door that matched the wall seen through the gellian. “Now, where are we? When do we see our rooms?”

Roshan chuckled, then swept her hand as she turned in a circle. “Hopefully your attention will be more focused when it comes to your studies.”

I gazed at the pedestals surrounding us. Roshan sat on the edge of one then ran her fingertips over a rune engraving. “These are tuning pedestals. High-level casters can tune these stones to certain locations throughout Rubal, and in some cases, other continents.”

I leaned forward. “Across the sea? Like where you came from? Lau?”

“Yes. You know, Lau is closer to the academy than the king’s own seat in the west, despite the sea between Rubal and my home.”

Shabana shook her head. “It sounds impossible.”

“Ah, but it’s not. Check your map some time. Even though only places you’ve visited are visible, the goddess has seen fit to label the land masses divided by the seas. The king’s seat is on the western coast of Rubal. If you compare, you’ll see for yourself.”

Maybe this was why the citizens of the Fowler Foundation weren’t concerned about the king they’d disrespected. It would take quite a long haul across the continent to enforce his will. Perhaps the governor who’d been unseated represented the lone enforcer of the king’s will in the east.

She clapped her hands gently. “Come! We must give you the tour then get you situated. You’ll never learn anything if we stand around the Receiving Room all day.”

10

My sandals clapping the cobblestones echoed like two pieces of firewood when knocked together, but the sound faded to the back of my mind when my gaze elevated to the high, black spires towering over the massive stone structure. The magnitude of its gray bricks made me wonder what feats of magical engineering must have been used to relocate such massive materials, let alone stack them skyward.

You have discovered Warrington.

75 XP

To our left, the town bustled with activity. More people than I’d ever seen milled about with baskets balanced on their forearms, packs on their backs, or carts rolling behind the force of their bodies. Hooves clopped. The merged voices formed a persistent drone that brought a pang of trepidation, while at the same time an airy feeling filled my chest.

Shabana’s ears perked then twisted as she took it all in. Her tail twitched and rose.

To a woman used to only the quiet life of a farm setting, it was loud. Distracting. Roshan uttered words now and then, but my focus was split by the multitudes. The single- and double-story structures lining the main thoroughfare were well-built. Unlike our barn, there were no loose boards needing to be hammered, no aged wood to be whitewashed, and no lazy tilt. Instead, the structures stood on stone foundations that leveled them. Paint colors varied so they were nourishment to my longing eyes.

Roshan marched us past a large gate, and I peered through it longingly at the double doors in the distance, at the end of a winding cobblestone path. When she noticed the diversion of my attention, she clasped my hand. “I wanted to show you the best part, first.” She squeezed, and even if the noise overwhelmed, I was comforted.

We passed another side street, where all the buildings were single-story. Then she tugged me to the right, drawing me past a lower gate that stood wide open. Short wide steps led to the white double doors of the otherwise maroon building. Two petite statues on pedestals depicted the goddess with her hands outstretched as if to welcome visitors.

“The temple?” I asked.

“Yes.” Roshan swung the doors open, released my hand, then passed inside.

The scent of wood and polishing wax swam on the air from the pews on either side of a wide aisle. I drew a deep breath.

You have discovered the Academy Temple.

35 XP

Roshan strolled toward the mammoth stone altar on a dais on the opposite side. “When we arrived, these pews were simply rotting benches, but the people of Warrington set to work constructing new ones within days.” She swung her head around to peer at me. “Three carpenters in town, each of differing specialties, chipped in.”

I noted two doorways on either side of the altar, at the outside edges of the interior, and wondered where they led. Roshan circled the altar, set both hands on it, then smiled.

“Welcome to my home. I bring each student here before we take them into the academy proper. My message is of welcome, and it’s imperative you know when you butt up against challenging times with your studies or in your interactions with others, this is a place of refuge for you. Experience any concerns at all, you should come here to me.

“The academy’s leadership is well-equipped to take care of your needs, but mine is the domain of the spiritual, and even though we don’t have to pray or speak of Solara, my ear is always here to listen.”

I already liked her. The relief washing over me released a tension deeper than the stress of being in a town for the first time. I’d carried tightness in my arms, legs, and shoulders since the moment I saw my father’s life come to a violent end, and now, it was finally beginning to ease. The black demon tried to jump into my memories again, but I wouldn’t have his dark presence in such a place of the Light, so I shoved it away, choosing instead to focus on the features of the priestess from abroad.

I bowed deeply, like Baba taught me, even though he never allowed me near anyone to use the sign of respect. “Thank you, priestess.”

Shabana didn’t bow, but she pressed her chin to her chest. “Thanks, Roshan. You’re the best.”

Her lips curved into the briefest smile. “Come, the magister welcomes every student, and she’ll be waiting for you.”

We exited through the hallway to the left leading to a back door. Outside, tiny little wire fences sectioned off rows of herbs, and the dominant scent of rosemary streamed into my nostrils. Another cobblestone path split the herb gardens then curved to the right, to the side door of a two-story building of the same stone bricks that made up the academy proper.

You have discovered the Academy Dormitories.

35 XP

Marble dormitory floors reflected the sunshine through skylights running the length of the hallway two stories above. From the bottom floor, the rows of doors on the second were visible, and they aligned perfectly with those we passed.

“Is this where we’ll live?” Shabana asked.

Roshan shook her head. “The two of you will live in the east wing, on the other side of the library. These rooms are already assigned.”

The word library stuck to my mind like honey to my tongue. Comprehension of a place that could house physical tomes instead of the ones I’d read all my life in my mind window—interface, I corrected myself—was beyond me. Then Roshan swung open the door, used her backside to prop it open, then waved us through.

You have discovered the Research Library.

35 XP

“Straight ahead,” the priestess instructed. “Go past the archivist’s desk then all the way to that door in the distance.” The high shelves stuffed with leather-bound titles crept along the walls all the way to the second-floor ceiling. The massive skylight here drew a breath of awe from my chest, as I couldn’t imagine how someone could cut glass so massive, even less get it to stay in place. Then a wave of light shimmered and crossed it like a serpent winding sideways. My chin dropped.

“Is that barrier magical?”

“Your eye isn’t to be underestimated, Tess. Yes, it’s magic, and it’s been there since the university was built centuries ago. I’m still in awe of it.”

I nodded, but the calm energy pervading the place left me at a loss for words. A huge, circular desk of the polished wood sat in the center of the massive space. Four paths from every direction led to it. It was surrounded by rows of long, polished tables of the same material.

A woman with blazing yellow eyes peered through spectacles at something below the desk’s front. Her head titled up as we passed. She flashed Roshan a short smile. Her gaze flitted to Shabana then me before returning to her task.

When we passed through yet another door at the opposite end of the library, we entered a domed, circular room with wood paneled walls. Although I received a message in my interface, there was no additional XP awarded, maybe because this was also considered part of the dormitories split by the library.

A circular skylight constructed of elongated slivers of glass separated by metal grids was nested high above. Even so, candle holders sat atop desks that lined the open floor. The space between the doors on the periphery left me surmising these rooms were larger than those in the first dorms. Roshan pointed to the second floor near the opposite end of the dome. “Those last two doors are yours. You have the honor of being the final students admitted this term.” She stopped at the opposite end of the dormitory. “That Tess came to us only a day before the term started strikes me as a blessing from the divine goddess. We thought the final room would sit empty. As you can imagine, scouting the countryside and getting word out that young mana users are welcomed to study here now is a daunting task. A long history riddled with dark tales of abuse leaves parents hesitant to send their mana-bearing children to us.”

Shabana twisted her lips into a smirk. “That, and their fear the king won’t approve. His soldiers could come to restore his edicts any day.”

“Should the boy king send fighters all this way, let them come. We will see them approaching from afar. Worry not.”

Shabana shook her head. “With respect, I’m not worried. Those are just the facts. People have good reason to be scared. Maybe when we get the first term behind us and the worries of civil war abate, more will send their children. Students schooled in magic might even make good recruiters, don’t you agree?”

Roshan’s lips curved down into a contemplative frown. “Hmm. An interesting idea. I will bring it up at the next council meeting.”

“Really?” Shabana asked.

“Why not? Do you assume because you’re a new student we would dismiss your ideas? Does the validity of an idea degrade because of its source? I think not.” The priestess didn’t wait for an answer.

We passed out of the dorms and across another cobblestone walkway to the looming academy proper. A beat of vertigo tilted the surface beneath my feet when I craned my head back to view the high, black spires. To our left, on the opposite side from the town, was a gigantic, grassy field surrounded by a wooden fence. I’d once built a fenced paddock so our horse could exercise between my father’s trading trips to the Peaks. The work kept me busy, and I hadn’t been allowed to ride as much as I liked. But if I thought that fence had been a laborious exercise, the one before me would’ve taken me months.

My arms would’ve fallen off.

Double doors prefaced our entry to the academy. After a final glance at the spires, I stepped inside. I was instantly struck by the massive interior of the entry way. Although high and ominous from the outside, the interior could not possibly have fit in the facade. How was this so?

Another sense of vertigo washed over me, then I set one hand against a low wall to steady myself.

“It can be a little disorienting at first,” Roshan said. “The academy is an instanced area, so the interior exists on a different plane than what you see outside. The concept is a baffling illustration of the goddess’s magical gifts to Enora.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “But the goddess didn’t build the academy… did she?”

“No, it was built long ago by very powerful magicians. During my tour, the magister informed me the outside was built to impress. But when soldiers of the monarch preceding the Luttrell line murdered the sole heir of the previous monarchy and took power, they tried to burn the University of Warrington to the ground as a message to the eastern side of the continent that they could reach it at will.”

I twisted my lips to one side. “And now we’re testing the Luttrell line’s will to do the same.”

Roshan didn’t dignify my response. “Instead of rebuilding, the magicians of old combined their powers and drew massive amounts of energy from the ley lines to create the instance. Some believe that’s all nonsense. Others treat this history with reverence, the magister counted among them.”

“And what do you think?” I asked.

“Such feats would be impossible today. The suppression of magic has weakened the casters of Rubal. But the instance had to come from somewhere. Whether it was something the goddess built or constructed by her blessings upon long-dead mana channelers makes little difference to me. I suppose it depends on the extent of your imagination. The master of our foundation theorized it was once a dungeon, reformed to suit a different purpose.”

My back teeth clenched. “The two of you frustrate me with your unwillingness to tell me anything about this master of yours.”

“If you think you’re frustrated, wait until Master Durring begins teaching you attribute calculations and functions. Master Fowler has his reasons for secrecy.”

At least now I knew the reason for the name of the place. They spoke like he was some magical creature instead of a man. Curiosity spawned frustration, but I shoved the troublesome thoughts from my head into my chest, then blew them out in a slow sigh like Baba taught me.

I counted three stories of tomes shelved around us, with spiral staircases spinning up in every corner. One man and three women manned a desk near the front entrance’s high, stone doors. Although we hadn’t entered that way, I could imagine a visitor’s first impression when entering through those doors. There was a certain practicality to the architecture. If they were like me, the desk would’ve drawn them forward instead of venturing up the staircases.

We passed the desk by without a glance, then Roshan stopped at a pair of white doors with intricate carvings that reminded me of the runes I’d drawn into my staff. Guards with pointed ears wearing ivory plate greeted us.

“Good day, priestess,” the elf on the right said. “The magister is expecting you.” The guards turned in perfect unison, then each shoved open a door to reveal the interior.

A woman with black hair streaked with gray stood then spread her arms wide. The desk was oak if I’d ever spied it, and since the thick trees were the dominant strain filling the thickets near our farm, I’d seen plenty. Like the door outside, the front of the desk was awash in carved symbols, and now I wondered if they were decorative or actually held magical properties. Analysis proved nothing.

Oak Desk

The magister’s desk is big. It’s made of oak.

Type: Furniture

Quality: Very rare

Durability: 150 of 150

Gee, thanks.

A grand fireplace filled only with ash sat to our right.

“Shabana, Tess. Welcome.” Her accent was thick, and I wondered about its origins. She nodded at the priestess as she gestured at two chairs. “Please, sit.”

Roshan turned toward the door.

“Wait,” I said. “You’re leaving?”

She nodded. “I have services soon. Don’t worry, you can come see me any time. Magister Leira will see you’re shown to your rooms.”

“Oh.” A hole swelled in the pit of my stomach at the prospect of losing the calm the priestess projected, but it was time to grow up. I bowed. “Thank you, Roshan. For everything.”

To my surprise, the priestess strode over, stood on her toes, cupped my face in both hands, then kissed my forehead. Although I was several inches taller, she maintained the stance to peer into my eyes. “I know what it is to lose your father before your eyes. Bring your grief to me when it rises, and we will share it.”

With that, the priestess strode out of the room. The flowing bottom hem of her robe combined with her steady gait gave the impression she floated.

When I turned from the doors, Shabana was already seated, with her tail curving out of the chair behind her. I untied my staff, lowered into the free chair, then lay the weapon across my lap.

“I’m Interim Magister Leira. It’s my duty to see you well-equipped to take on the challenges of a stringent curriculum here at Warrington Univ—Academy.” She rolled her eyes, and I got the impression the gesture was intended for herself, like she struggled with an old habit that hadn’t quite died.

“You will find our instructors fair but stern. The rules here must be followed at all times, and we have little patience for those who are accustomed to setting aside such standards. Are you with me so far?”

We nodded.

Her eyes darted from mine to Shabana’s, then back again. “The academy council has worked hard to modify the university standards to new purpose. I will provide you with a copy of the guide, and you will follow the rules set inside.” She interlocked the fingers of one hand with the other, set them gently on her desk, then leaned forward. “But allow me to give you a preview because I’ve already sent one student packing, and you need to understand the gravity of your responsibilities. Okay?”

Although her words brought a certain weight with them, the tension I would’ve expected never rose in me. Something about the kindness in her face and the low, easy delivery set me at ease and allowed me to focus.

“Okay,” I said.

Shabana nodded her consent.

“At no times will you cast harmful magic against another student unless under the supervision of a master instructor in a duel. If you do so, you will be reprimanded, penalized, and, depending upon the level of the infraction, possibly removed from the academy. There will be no tolerance for violence against your peers. Is that understood?”

We nodded.

“I would hear you affirm this verbally.”

Color filled the mishon’s cheeks. “Yes,” we both replied.

The magister shook her head. “You will address all academy personnel with their titles, then their given name. I am Magister Leira. Roshan is Master Roshan. Now, try again.”

Shabana dipped her chin to show the magister the top of her head. “Yes, Magister Leira.”

The suddenly hard eyes darted in my direction.

“Yes, Magister Leira.”

“Good.” She gently slapped the table then leaned back in her chair, but not so she reclined in the least. Although her posture didn’t relax, her tone did. “I spent decades running a magic shop in Brumhill. Before that, I was a student of this place, when it was called a university. We have just set a dark history behind us, so you should take that into account when you consider our rules. Although you’ll find discipline at the top of our mandate list, you’ll understand why as you expand the boundaries of your power.

“You are here to learn. We will feed you. As first year students, you will learn to make your own clothing or buy it in town with your own coin. By doing it yourself, you could gain ranks in weaving and render your old garments obsolete in short order. The last thing you’ll want is to fall behind. Although we will provide some materials, you will also learn to hunt them down for yourselves. We have a leather-working curriculum, weaving, and woodworking.”

Shabana leaned forward. “What about smithing?”

Leira shook her head. “The Templars in the north are starting their own school for those wishing to wield edged weapons and wear heavy armor. They will teach smithing and other associated skills there. If it’s your desire to serve as a paladin or something of that nature, I can put in a word for you.” She gazed expectantly at Shabana.

The mishon shook her head and lowered her eyes. “No. I wish to make the most of my mana. I would be a healer.”

“A fine use of your magic. And you?” She cocked an eyebrow as she turned her gaze in my direction.

“No. I’m fine right here.”

“Good. We’re discussing how we could bring students from these academies together in the future to push back the lower demon scourge running rampant across our lands. Those negotiations continue. But I digress, and you should focus on what you control. Now, the important part. We have two schools within the academy. One is for Light magic, the other is for Shadow casters. There are curriculum-specific courses, but one discipline will share some classes with the other, especially when they reach second year. My understanding is Shabana’s strength is in her Light affinity, and she wishes to choose the Light. What of you, Tess?”

I raised the applicable content in my interface with a thought.

Magic Affinities:

Potential: 100%

Light: 23%

Shadow: 91%

I eyed the 91% shadow affinity in my interface, then read Shabana’s expectant expression.

“The Light, as well.” I gave a deep nod.

Shabana’s shoulders dropped with relief, and I was happy to see she wanted me around as much as I wanted to be around her.

“May I ask your affinity?” Leira asked.

“My Light affinity is 23%.”

“Ah, not very high, but it can be raised with practice. What’s your Magic Potential?”

My lips tightened, as I was unsure I wanted to set unreasonable expectations on myself right out of the gate. But something about the age of the magister and the curious way her eyes almost peered inside me told me to play it straight. Besides, Shabana already knew. “My potential is one hundred percent.”

Leira jerked. “One hundred?” Her head whipped side to side as her gaze flitted from one of us to the other. “But, I haven’t seen… huh. What about your Shadow affinity? Do you have one?”

Although I wasn’t ready to start things off with a lie, I wasn’t about to come clean, either. Lest I be thrown into classes with a bunch of strangers. “I have no interest in Shadow.”

Leira’s eyebrows raised then dropped. “Fine. I won’t press. But someday you might change your mind, and I’d hate for it to be after you’ve progressed in your Light studies at the cost of Shadow. With a maxed potential at your age, well.” The muscles in her jaw worked. “Don’t let it go to your head, but the rarity of such a potential is hard to fathom. And you were a farmer?”

I nodded, but squinted at the same time. “Why? Can’t a farm girl prove useful?”

To my surprise, Leira guffawed. “I see your instructors will have their hands full.” She slapped the table every couple seconds until the laughter waned to a persistent chuckle. “With such potential, a fisherman would be of use. Any kind of laborer. I was the daughter of a traveling merchant and spent many years of my childhood scraping by on the roads selling his wares.” She thrust a finger toward me, and I wondered if a magic ray would fire from it. “Study, be driven, and remain focused, then you might heal whole raids with unbound efficiency.”

“Yes, Magister Leira.”

“You have to promise you’ll describe the expression of the first professor who learns about your potential.”

That she’d intuited my reservations about my high potential spoke volumes. Magister Leira wasn’t to be trifled with. “Sure. I promise.”

“Good. Now, you need to choose your electives.” She swept two fingers in the air then text filled my mind window.

Electives

Each first-year student is permitted to select one elective to complement their studies. Students in both magic schools may select any of the following electives.

Alchemy

Learn the properties of herbs and other plants to concoct potions, salves, and poultices. Students who pass Alchemy by reaching a skill level of 20 will be eligible to select Advanced Alchemy for their second-term elective, but are not required to do so, and the higher-level tier is available through third year.

Weaving

Learn to create and patch clothing to support your casting abilities. Students who pass Weaving by reaching a skill level of 20 will be eligible to select Weaving II for their second-term elective, but are not required to do so, and the higher-level tier is available through third year.

Carpentry for Combatants

Learn to create staves, wands, cudgels, and other weaponry to compliment your casting abilities. Students who pass Carpentry for Combatants by reaching a skill level of 20 will be eligible to select from the following advanced courses:

Carpentry for Combatants II

An advanced class in weapon-making for casters where students who have reached a skill level of 20 or higher can advance through rank 40.

OR

Rune Crafting

A fine compliment to Carpentry for Combatants, Rune Crafting is an advanced skill used to draw runes for protection, offensive purposes, or as wards against demonic entities. In addition, highly advanced rune crafters can create magical scrolls to teach themselves spells or sell them in markets.

I scanned each of the three choices twice, then read them with a more discerning eye. To her credit, Master Leira waited patiently, leaving me to wonder how much of her time was spent sitting in silence while students chose their electives.

Shabana’s head swiveled in my direction. “I’m thinking Weaving. What do you think?”

My lips tightened. On the one hand, I enjoyed Shabana’s company, and the thought of being on my own among classes full of people unknown to me carved a recess in my chest and brought a lump to my throat. But Weaving would’ve been my last choice. The thrill of discovering Rune Crafting on my own at the carpentry shop at Fowler proved a bright image in my memory. Baba had been a fine woodworker, and we often whittled together, so I was familiar with bending wood to my will.

I traced the runes and wavy lines carved into my staff, and the sight of them decided me. It might take two semesters to start Rune Crafting, but I’d already learned the skill on my own. Perhaps my magic potential would provide a head start. Or maybe I didn’t understand the principle at all.

After swallowing the lump in my throat and releasing a breath I hadn’t realized I held, I shook my head. “I would choose Carpentry for Combatants.”

Shabana’s lip twitched like she suppressed a frown. “Oh. Well, considering your prowess in the wood shop, I can understand that. It won’t offend you if I take Weaving?”

Leira leaned forward. “Just so the two of you know, there aren’t any rules against sharing your knowledge with each other, and students are welcome in all the labs. As I said, many will make their own clothing. There’s always a supervisor on hand, and students registered in an elective are given priority. It might seem counter intuitive in a structured curriculum, but you’re here to learn, and we’re here to teach you. So, the council agreed students who keep good standing in their classes will be granted freedoms to excel.” She raised a finger. “But you must not break any rules, and the professor of Fundamentals of Magic must transfer a chit to your interface to allow your entry into the labs to ensure you’re keeping up in his vital class.”

I nodded understanding.

“Good. Now, get out of my office. I have crystals to polish.” She raised her head toward a side door. “Stennil! Where’s my polishing rag?”

11

We were greeted outside the door by a woman with a single gray streak through otherwise shining black hair. Gray bags beneath her eyes contrasted the otherwise firm skin across shining cheeks and a smooth forehead.

“I’m Master Mora. I was once a student at the university. Then I served there as an instructor. There are still a few of us ‘old guard’ here at the academy.”

I didn’t know what that meant.

She led us to the dormitory, showed Shabana to her room, then left her to unpack as she led me next door. After unlocking it with an iron key, she handed the piece of metal to me then pushed open the door. The head of a bed large enough for three butted against the right wall. A thick mattress topped and covered it from the high headboard to the posters' footings.

A desk designed to slide perfectly into the corner was nestled in the far left. A tall dresser with rows of three drawers stood against the left wall. A round carpet filled half the room, flowing out from the center. I noted a brass candleholder on the desk, a narrow nightstand, and a quilt rolled up and tied off with rope at the foot of the bed. Almost the entire back wall was covered in windows, and through them, I spied one of the massive green fields wrapping around the campus.

“This room is huge.”

Mora nodded. “My old room was exactly like it. I was quite comfortable there, but the masters’ quarters are nothing to take for granted.”

“Where are those?”

“You’d have to go back, past Magister Leira’s office, then continue out the door. There’s another building near the place where you ported in.”

“I see.”

She turned toward the door.

“Master Mora?”

She pivoted. “Yes, Tess?”

“Classes start tomorrow?”

“That’s right. In the meantime, you can explore the campus and move about town. Get to know the area and our neighbors. Community outreach is important to us as we want the townspeople to support the academy. Especially considering its past.”

“What about its past?”

“I’ll leave those stories for others to tell. Suffice it to say, they welcome the new administration and purpose. But you should conduct yourself as an ambassador to these halls.”

“Do they support us financially? Who pays for all this?”

Mora stepped back inside. “You know, Tess, you’re the first student of the many I’ve escorted to their rooms to ask that question.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “Something changed in the way of magic recently. More experienced magicians encountered a strange event, and when it was over, we noticed some variances in our interfaces. When we tested them, we found the depth of change overwhelming.”

“I’m confused.”

Mora shook her head. “That’s because I’m prattling on instead of explaining. I didn’t experience the event, myself, but those who did describe it as a hiccup in time. Like the world around them stopped turning for just a moment. I first heard it from a former instructor at the university as he joined a caravan headed south. At first, I thought he was crazy. He was old, and I suspected his mind was going. But then word spread, and we soon learned there was something to it.”

“I wonder why you didn’t experience it.”

“I was probably napping. Tumultuous times in recent months have made me appreciate sleep.” She adjusted on the bed then crossed one leg over the other before continuing. “Before their perceptions of this strange moment in time, like a giant candle giving off a single flicker across the world, beings’ spirit pools only allowed for them to spend five attribute points with each trainer. It was a complicated bit of arithmetic and I won’t get into it here, but suffice it to say, it all changed.”

I wasn’t sure how this applied to funding the academy, but I played along in hope she’d get there. “How did it change?”

“Trainers may now spend all the attribute points gained by adventurers who earn combat levels.”

“That sounds… significant.”

“Yes, but it also threatens balance.”

I tilted my head to one side in confusion.

“In all magic, there must be balance. If we were to train each adventurer to their full potential, all at once, they could become extremely powerful. If they were the greedy sort, they might try to take from others or assert their wills in politics. There’s no limit to what atrocities would be possible when the wrong people gained power. But trainers do not abound, and the vast majority of them either reside here or in the Templar Conclave far to the north. We’ve seen to recruiting others. In addition, we travel to cities like Trowlsby to work with those who already had shops where they sold their goods and also provided the maximum of five points to each customer.

“Before, each trainer spent up to five points and sent adventures or craftspeople on their way. Once their spirit pools had emptied, they could train no more. But this training also required spirit from the learner. And when the two pools emptied, their ability to work together was gone. Are you with me so far?”

“Yes. The goddess creates balance by forcing adventurers to seek out multiple trainers. But it seems to me that those with mana pools fearing registration and hiding their potential would suppress the rise of magic in Rubal even more.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re perceptive because I’m not always the best explainer. This is why I teach what I know. Anyway, after the event, the pools still emptied. But if the learned and skill teacher refilled their pools, they found they could train again the next day.”

“Five more points?”

Mora nodded. “There are no limits, just time constraints.”

“Do you think the goddess did this because she saw how the powerful suppressed magic and combat training?”

“I can’t imagine how else it could happen. No mortal wields the power to change our world in this way.” She waved those thoughts away. “Anyway, Leira devised a system we’re using across eastern Rubal. By visiting what few trainers resided in Trowlsby, here in Warrington and across the region, we’ve been able to adopt an agreement to set prices. Controlling the market, if you will.”

I thought I got the gist of the concept. Although I didn’t accompany my father to market, I did understand basic economics from my studies on the farm.

“Each point after the first five costs more than the last. In this way, we combine the constraint of the time limitation with the increasingly obstructive pricing to slow the growth of adventurers and craftsmen. Although we no longer register the users—we don’t want our practices to resemble those of the monarch that left so many mages dead—we keep track of who buys what training. It’s an informal process, but we’ve formed clans so we can communicate over long distances and keep up.”

“But how is this different than registering the adventurers?”

Wrinkles creased her smooth forehead. “What?”

“If the old guard registered magic users to keep up with who possessed what skills, how is this system different?”

“Because there are no limits in place.” The snappy response left me to wonder if I’d offended, but she leveled her tone as she continued. “We don’t control advancement nor turn away beings who wish to excel when they come for training. It’s just good to keep track of those who advance.”

“In case they decide to gather power to themselves.”

“Right.”

A bell rang in my head. “So, the academy trainers charge for their services like anyone else, and that helps fund all this?” I raised my hands and gestured around the room.

“Helps? I suppose that’s the right word. But in the months since registration ended and troubles arose, farmers have dropped hoes in their fields and taken up swords. They come from all over to gather parties. Ancient maps have been discovered that reveal the locations of underground havens of evil long forgotten. There’s no shortage of work. And if the dungeons aren’t enough, demons swarm the lands in retribution for the loss of an underlord who once commanded them.”

“They killed my father.”

She nodded. “So I heard.”

I intuited Roshan was part of a clan chat at the university, like the one I’d learned about at the borough.

“The former soldiers in the governor’s regiments have also formed bands and pillage the countryside. They’re banned from receiving training, but they continue to hide from us. Still, more reasons for adventurers, and they are coming.”

“Wow. Turbulent times.”

“Indeed. This is why I’m glad you’re here. You’re under our protection and ready to learn so that you might help maintain balance with us across the East.”

“What of the king’s lands in the west?”

“They’re his problem until he makes them ours.”

It had civil war written all over it. I prayed to the goddess that wouldn’t be the case, but my prayers rarely got answered these days.

“Thank you for explaining this to me.”

Mora rose, clasped my shoulder, then strolled to the door. Without turning back as she grasped the handle, she said, “Tess, I see a brightness in your eyes. A light less affected by the turmoil surrounding us. Strive to hold onto that light so you might someday bring hope to those who have lost it. People like you, but who have lost much more than one parent.”

I nodded. “I will, Master Mora.”

* * *

Although the room was twice the size and much more comfortable than the room I’d lived in all my life to this point, it was a cozy space when the sun began its afternoon descent and only indirect light painted my windows. I wanted to sit there on my new bed, process the events since my father’s murder, then sleep.

But excitement surged in the form of more than a few irregular beats in my chest when I remembered the hustle and bustle of the crowds in Warrington. Although my pockets were empty, it couldn’t hurt to walk around and see what fare the shops had to offer. I stopped at Shabana’s door to see if she would want to tag along, but her prattling voice indicated she’d already found someone to spend time with.

Oh well. A little time on my own won’t kill me.

The people who milled on the streets wore clothes in styles I’d never seen. There was the woman in a yellow dress with straps revealing her shoulders and black hair that perfectly contrasted the color. Then the burly man five inches shorter than I with a bushy beard that sported a neat gray line right down the middle, as if it’d been painted there.

But the group I spied near the end of the main thoroughfare painted themselves onto the canvas of my mind. I’d have guessed they were all in their twenties, but my lack of social interactions at that time lent little in the way of context. One wore a white robe so stained, I might have mistaken it for tan. Where Roshan, Liatra, and the mages of the academy wore longer robes that swept the floors when they walked, his only reached his shins. The neckline wore sweat stains and was tattered. But it was the one who walked in front, just ahead of him, who drew my gaze.

He wore scratched gray armor that might once have carried a sheen. One shoulder guard was missing, and the other hung so it clanked against the side of his breast plate. Dried blood stains formed a three-forked creek, with one stream running right down the center of his nose and the other two following the curves around the inside of his eyes before crossing his lower cheeks. When he caught my eye, I turned my head away, but not before I caught the scowl his features scrunched into. Although he’d been injured, I’d spied no wound. The man in the stained robe must have healed him.

Since they didn’t wear the same uniform armor as the guards I’d passed so far, I assumed they must have been the adventurers I’d heard about, and judging from the way they carried their heads low, I gauged their adventure—whatever form that took—hadn’t been a successful pursuit.

When I was sure they’d passed, I spared a single glance over my shoulder.

The man was looking back at me.

I whipped my head around in time to spy a two-story house at the end of the row. On the front stoop, bathed in the orange glow of the late sun, was a woman with dark hair pulled back into the kind of knot I’d tie on the farm to keep my hair out of my face. Although tall and thin, she had a buxom bosom to compliment a tiny waist. She reached for a tray on the table in front of her then dumped its contents into a tin pail.

When she reached for another plate, she spotted me. Her head tilted to one side, then she paused. “Well, hello.” Her tone was warm, soft. Maybe welcoming.

I looked around, but the remains of the afternoon traffic had moved off to the opposite end of the thoroughfare or dispersed altogether.

When I turned back, the woman smiled. “I was talking to you, sweetie. Not from around here, right?”

I shook my head.

She waited a moment, although I wasn’t sure for what. Maybe I was supposed to be filling in the quiet with a response, but I couldn’t be sure.

“Well, where are you from?” She waved me closer.

My feet seemed rooted to the ground, anchored like the wheels on a disabled wagon left on a hill. When I forced them forward, she extended a hand. After a brief scan of the smooth skin, I grasped it.

“I’m Looli. Looli Graples.”

“I’m Tess.”

“Just Tess? No surname?” She leaned forward, peered up the street, then set her hand next to her mouth as if to tell me a secret. “Or is there a bounty on your head? Surnames off limits?” She chuckled, and it was a melodic, easy kind of sound that forced a smile to my lips. It was like her soft laughter had allowed me a brief insight into her true self, and I was comforted by what I saw.

“We don’t have surnames. I’m Tess of Millbury, but I’m from nowhere near there. Our farm was at the base of the southern peaks.”

“Gynas Peaks?”

I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s not ma’am, it’s Looli. People are always mispronouncing my name like that. Why, do you think that is?” She smiled again. “So, what brings you to the newly revitalized town of Warrington?” She lowered her voice to a mutter as she peered at the backs of the people further down. “At this rate, it’s going to be a city soon.”

“I came to join the academy. I’m a student.”

“Oh!” Her eyebrows flicked up. “Really?” She swept a hand in a strange gesture. “Well, that’s just fine! Just right as—Wait, you’re from a farm in Gynas Peaks?”

I nodded.

“Oh.” Her lips twitched at the corner of her mouth as if she might frown, then she righted them. “Well.” She planted her elbows on the table to converse at a conspiratorial distance. “Did you know you’re the first student I’ve seen?” She nodded with enthusiasm. “Yup. Seems you’re the only one brave enough to come meet old Looli.”

“You’re not old. Well, not that old.”

Her laughter came freely, her chest jiggling. “Oh, you’re just a tit, aren’t ya?”

“A… tit?”

“A better use of a vulgar word. Family tradition, I’m afraid. My father”—she waved her arms so they formed a W with her head—”the grand mayor of our fine town, forms all kinds of creative word uses. Comes from his crazy, drunkard daddy… you know, my grandpa.”

“I see.” I wasn’t sure I did, but I liked Looli already. She was… different.

“So, your folks send ya down here?”

I shook my head, and something in my expression must have tipped her off because her facial muscles went slack and she took a half step forward so her upper legs indented against the table. “No foul dealings, I hope.”

“My mother was gone a long time ago. It was just me and my Baba. That’s what I called my dad. But I’m seventeen now, and I stopped years ago. But then he died and, well, I guess he’s Baba again.”

“Oh, no.” She set a hand to her chest, fingers splayed. “That’s terrible.” A long moment of silence passed between us, then she sighed. “Well, at least there’s the academy. We’ll have upstanding people like you to stand for the east in no time.”

“For the east? You mean against the king?”

This time her glance up the street came through squinted eyes. “No, I wouldn’t say that.” Then she whispered. “Unless it comes to it.” She stepped away from the table, and it was the first time my gaze had been drawn from her long enough to notice twisted wrappings in neat little rows on its surface.

Looli noticed. “Hey, I was just going to throw these out because I don’t feel like going through the rigmarole of preserving them—especially after such a profitable day, but if you want to try one, they’re still good.”

My stomach grumbled its own sentiments when I leaned down and the scent of fruit wafted up to my nostrils.

Looli noticed that, too. “Don’t they feed you at that academy?”

I stood straight as warmth flooded to my cheeks. “Evening meal is in an hour, but…” One side of my lips curled up in contemplation. The idea of all the strangers I would encounter in the dining hall Mora described caused my arms to tingle with apprehension and a hollowed-out sensation in my chest. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to voice my fears to a stranger.

It didn’t matter, because Looli was perceptive. “You don’t plan on going until you’ve made some friends—or, at least, acquaintances, right?”

My forehead wrinkled. “Right.”

She pointed at one of the wraps. “This is a peach wrap. I dry the skins, can the fruit, then when its good and soaked up in its juices, I wrap them up. Try it.”

I reached for the wrap, sniffed, then bit off a chunk. An explosion of sweet flavor filled my mouth with savory warmth. I’d done some canning in my time, but never with this result. I shoved the rest into my mouth and chewed desperately. “Mmm,” I said with a full gullet. “So good.”

You have consumed a Peach Fruit Wrap.

Type: Food

Effect: +40 maximum mana

Duration: 1 hour

“I’m glad you like it. Feel free to take some of each type with you. I was just going to throw them out.”

“I’m afraid I have no way to carry them, but I thank you for your kindness.”

“I have a solution for that.” Looli reached down then produced the tiniest burlap bag I’d ever seen. She retrieved a sheet of waxy paper then rolled all the wraps into it, emptying the tray. “Here you go.”

“You are so kind, Looli.” I half-bowed before snagging the bag. The idea I could avoid the first meal at the academy caused my shoulders to drop in relief. Then a thought occurred as I peered down at the sack. “But what will you eat?”

“Me? Oh, I almost never eat those things. They go right to my waist. You’re young, so you won’t notice any changes, except for the buffs. You know, since you’re learning magic—I mean, that’s what this academy is all about, right? Teaching young adults magic?”

I hesitated, then gave a nod.

“Right. Well, if you were to dip those wraps in a jar with water to preserve them then dry them in the sun and use them for buff foods, they might aid you.” She winked one eye. “You know, give you an edge.”

I focused on the bag.

Burlap Sack (Small)

Type: Container

Slots: 4

Quality: Poor

Durability: 16 of 20

Contents:

Peach Wrap x 4

This fruit is wrapped in the dried skin of a peach.

Type: Food

Effect: +40 maximum mana

Duration: 1 hour

Stuffed Grape Leave x 3

Stuffed with long-grained rice and spiced deer meat, this wrap is finished off with a touch of lemon and olive oil.

Type: Food

Effect: +2 Constitution

Duration: 1 hour

Melon Berry

+3 intelligence

Duration: One hour

“You know, it’s funny. When I canned the peaches and let them soak instead of wrapping them fresh, I noticed an attribute change. Where the first type gave casters 5 mana regeneration per tick, the second increased the mana pool. I make both kinds, soaked and fresh, and you should have a few of each in there. So make sure you use the one that’s right for a situation. I might not have a mana pool, but I’ve been selling these things like crazy for the last month. It’s like adventurers came out of the hills. Some dropped their rakes and hoes and set off with friends in search of riches. I’m aghast at how few return, but maybe they’ve advanced and moved on to Trowlsby. I’m just happy to have the business. I can hardly keep up.” She raised an eyebrow. “Tell me, do you get a stipend at that academy of yours?”

“A stipend?”

“Money.” She rubbed her fingers and thumb together. “Coin.”

I shook my head. “No. Two meals and a nice room. It’s plenty for me.”

Looli shook her head. “With no coin, how are you going to take on dangerous beasts and demons in the wilds and those crazy dungeon lairs I’ve heard tales of? You have to upgrade your gear as you progress, right?”

“I hadn’t really thought of—”

She peered through the door to her home. “Perhaps we can help each other. I can hardly keep up these days. I don’t have enough fruit jarred, and I could use someone to man the table while I’m out gathering or up here selling in the afternoons. I mean, this fruit doesn’t pick itself.” She met my gaze. “How would you feel about a job? You know, a little gainful employment after your daily training? I’ll even throw in a nightly meal for those days you want to avoid the crowd.”

She knew how to make a pitch, that Looli Graples. The way she’d practically read my mind might have set me ill at ease if not for the genuineness of her smile and the easy way she talked. Then text flooded my screen.

You have been offered a quest.

Labor for Looli

Accept employment with Looli Graples.

Reward: 250 XP

Do you want to accept this quest?

Yes/No

I barely stopped my jaw from dropping. A quest? Did the goddess smile down upon me? Why me?

Looli went on. “I’ll pay you five percent of everything I take in. Does that sound fair? Or I’m open to barter on the topic.”

“You mean I could negotiate my wages? But I wouldn’t even know where to start. I don’t even know if I’m allowed to have a job.”

“Well, why wouldn’t you be? Are you a prisoner or a student?” Before I could answer, she continued. “Tell ya what, you make sure it’s okay, and if you want to help me out a few days per week—or more if you’re up to it—then the job will be here. What do you say?” She stuck her hand out.

My first day in Warrington, and I’d already made a friend. Or an employer. Maybe both. The little fruit stand consisting of a table top set on the stone rails of her porch might prove a respite from the crowds at the academy, and I’d have been a fool not to at least try it out.

I grasped her hand and squeezed.

Looli gripped and pulled me forward. “This is how you shake a hand. If you squeeze like you’re weak, then people will treat you like you’re weak. Shake firmly and let them know you won’t be shoved around, you get me?”

Despite the reproach, the way she cocked one eyebrow and her lips curved into a closed-mouth smile set me at ease. So, I nodded curtly. “Thank you, Looli Graples. I’ll endeavor to do better.” I released her hand, then set a finger to my chin. Up the road, the high spires of Warrington Academy towered, and one split Solara’s star as it made its final descent toward the northwestern horizon of what my map called the Iron Mountains. “And I’ll take the job. I’m a free woman, now, so let them learn it when someone sees me here. I don’t need permission.”

You have completed a quest!

Labor for Looli

You accepted employment with Looli Graples.

250 XP

“A woman after my own heart.” Looli set a hand to her chest. “Now go on. It’s gonna be dark soon, and I wouldn’t have you on the streets alone.”

“Why, is it dangerous here at night?”

“Not usually, but you’re too pretty to risk it. Keep your wits about ya.” She glanced up the street, crossed her arms across her chest, then twisted her head back and forth. “You know, I think I’ll walk you halfway then watch from a distance until you reach the gates.”

12

Despite my misgiving about joining a crowd in the dining hall the night before, I decided to take Looli’s words to heart and saved the foodstuffs she gave me for the appropriate time. Dry or not, they might serve me, though I didn’t know when or how. But I wouldn’t have anyone say I wasn’t resourceful.

Near the end of serving hours, I snuck into the dining hall then grabbed one of the wooden trays and two-tined forks. A woman with curly white hair frowned at my last-minute appearance but served me readily enough. The glop she dropped on my plate didn’t appear appetizing but, as it turned out, was quite delicious. My tongue rooted out the tastes of corn, spiced beef, and a pretty decent tomato-based sauce that rivaled my own.

When Shabana knocked on my door the next morning, she wore a sharp-toothed grin from ear to ear. I wished I shared her enthusiasm, but my legs quivered with the idea of our first class. She led the way like an old pro.

“Do you know where we’re going?” I brought up my interface and scanned the schedule. Our first stop for the day was something called

Fundamentals of Magic

Instructor: Mizwel Durring

Room 6: Hall of the Light

“Yes, I walked the path with the map Master Mora gave us after dinner last night.” Her forehead wrinkled. “Where did you get off to? I knocked on your door.”

I pinched my lips together, not knowing if I should tell.

Trust no one.

My father’s voice echoed in my mind. But it seemed ridiculous. Other than a little competitive streak displayed during our staff practice at the Fowler Foundation, Shabana’d been nothing but gracious to me.

So, I answered. “I went in to town. I got a job.”

She stopped in the hallway. “You’ve been here for less than a day and you’ve already found employment? How will it work? Where? How will you practice magic? What hours will you keep?”

“Do you disapprove?”

She shook her head. “To the contrary. It’s great. You’ll earn some pocket coin.”

“Will the masters disapprove?”

She raised a shoulder. “It’s not like they own you. Why would they deprive you of the opportunity to learn the ways of commerce?”

“Hmm. I wasn’t sure what the rules were concerning working while at the academy.”

“Well, they can’t be offended by what they don’t know. So, just keep it to yourself if it makes you feel better. The master of our borough once told me it’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission in some cases.”

“What’s his first name?”

“The master?”

I nodded.

“You know I can’t say until you’re a member. There are those who would pay high sums to know of such a person. Those who remain in power who might not take kindly to a man who gathers like-minded adventurers and laborers to build a town of his own without paying taxes to some regent or other.” She shoved a gentle finger against my shoulder. The tips of her ears bent as if to point at me. “And no matter who you meet, or how you might think they’re trustworthy, you’d honor Desini’s kindness for taking you in and saving your life by staying your tongue.”

I frowned as the mishon woman glared at me. It was the first time I’d seen such an expression tightening her pudgy, high cheeks. “I will never speak a word of your home to anyone who doesn’t live there. My gratitude for your kindness is endless, and I would never betray Miss Desini.”

She nodded curtly, then her expression softened and she locked her arm inside the crook of my elbow. “Good. Now, let’s get to class. Open your schedule and let’s compare.”

As it turned out, being first year students at the academy who trained in the Light discipline meant we shared all our classes except for electives. Since Shabana had already walked them off, I’d just follow her around.

We entered the student library and took a right through double doors. At the bottom of a few wide steps, we walked across the cobblestone path to a wide, single-story building I hadn’t noticed before to the left of the massive field I could view from my dormitory window. There were no spires or other discerning features, but it was constructed of the same heavy stone bricks as the other buildings.

“How do you think they built these monoliths?” I asked. A young woman with flowing golden hair and pointed ears passed us on my right as her determined gait carried her toward the building ahead. I gawked.

An elf!

“Desini and I have discussed that very topic at length. She thinks the campus was built by special people two thousand years ago. That the whole place was formed by the goddess’s hand. It might sound crazy, but we have evidence it happens.” Shabana swept a hand across the air in front of us. “And how else would you move those bricks?”

A young man—hair cut so short on the side his flesh was visible—shoved her hand aside as he passed on the left. “Watch where you’re waving your hands.” A few feet past them, he uttered a word under his breath. “Beast.”

My jaw dropped. “Did he just call you a beast?”

Shabana’s expression went from the same tight one I’d seen moments earlier to a relaxed half-smile. “Some hold to old sentiments.”

We arrived at the door, and she held it open for me. Our sandals snapped against polished wooden floors.

Another boy squeezed by to catch up with the former, then turned to peer back at us. One side of his mouth pressed tighter together than the other.

“What sentiments are those?”

She waved a dismissive hand. “There was once a treant uprising, and their pet basilisks caused havoc across eastern Rubal. Although the mishon had nothing to do with it, we were driven from our farms once the uprising was contained. Many people still blame us, though. After it happened, my clan traveled north to the place where the foundation would later be founded, but we were driven from there by a true beast race. Long story. We were nomadic. Then our master came, told us he’d reclaimed our territory, and invited us back. That was about two and a half months ago.”

“Wow.”

“An appropriate response.” She leaned in and whispered. “Don’t worry about me.” She cocked her chin toward the boy’s back as he turned into a side room. “Nor should you worry about bigots like him.”

We filed into the same room where the boy had disappeared. I spotted him in the seat closest to the door, but redirected my gaze before he caught it. Stairs filed up through rows of desks. Shabana pointed toward the back-right corner, and I nodded. When we’d taken our seats, I watched the door as others filed in.

When the seats were filled to about half capacity, a door opened, then a short man with a long gray beard and a knotty walking stick sauntered in. His back hunched under the weight of age, and he wore spectacles with rims too thin to see clearly from my vantage point in the rear.

He reminded me of wizards from stories my father told me when I was a child.

The walking stick was a nice touch.

The man walked to a wide, marble-topped table, enclosed by painted planks of wood, in the center of the dais at the front of the giant room. He set aside his walking stick then placed fingertips on the tabletop, though his palms never touched it.

His voice boomed and echoed to us. “I am master Mizwel Durring. You may call me Master, Master Mizwel, or Master Durring. This class is Fundamentals of Magic. Although I didn’t choose the title and find it a quite inept description of the curriculum, I was outvoted.” He waved a hand in a circle overhead. “Welcome to rule by council.”

A few chuckles rose in the room, but I didn’t get the joke.

“I’m pushing a text to your interfaces, but we will rarely read it here. Use it to round out your knowledge of the topics we discuss and in preparation for examinations. Any questions?”

The boy who made the unseemly comment outside raised his hand.

The master winked his eyes before calling on him. “Yes. Johin Tir.”

“Will we be learning about the Mythics of old in this class?”

“I see the local rumor mill is hard at work.” Mizwel shook his head. “We will not. There is nothing fundamental about that topic.”

That he’d use a word from the name of the class to dismiss the topic right after saying he was overruled on the title struck me as disingenuous. Like these Mythics were a sour subject. The instructor expanded no further, and I decided to ask Shabana about it later. But when I turned toward her, she shook her head as if she’d read my mind.

The instructor continued. “Any other questions?” When no hands were raised, he nodded and pedaled around the table without the benefit of his stick. “While opinions vary, I will not expound at length about the blessings of the goddess, and you might rarely hear the word Solara in this hall. If that offends you, please see Master Roshan for your daily fill of piety. You’ve all met her, and she can be found in the academy temple.

“Instead, we will focus on the basics in our first year. Attributes, spell classes, mana distribution, and the like. If this bores you, or if you are so offended at my secular curriculum, I invite you to make haste for the door, because even though I didn’t name this class, I certainly control it.”

His eyes narrowed beneath his bushy eyebrows like he was daring someone to object. When no one did, he leaned against the high table and pressed his back against the marble top. His hands swept the air before him, then glowed. Azure tracers of light followed in the wake of their motions, blooming brighter.

The master rose into the air, then he settled onto the tabletop.

Oohs and ahs filled the room.

“What you’ve just witnessed is my Levitate spell. I’m sending you the description. Read it now. “He swept a lazy hand in our direction, then my screen filled with text.

Levitate

The caster rises up to ten feet in the air and can float freely in any direction for up to ten seconds.

Level 20

Type: Channeled spell

Cost: 15 Mana per Second

Discipline: Light

Duration: 10 seconds or until ended

Cooldown: 30 seconds

“Here, you’ll see a description of the spell, the level requirement, the mana cost, the associated discipline—Light, Shadow, or Agnostic—and the maximum duration of the spell.”

I noted how the readout was similar to the skill I’d learned during staff practice.

You have learned a new attack:

Leg Sweep

Swing your staff at your opponent’s legs to disable them for five seconds.

Level 2

Type: Offensive Ability

Cost: 5 Stamina

Cooldown: 10 Seconds

Since Leg Sweep wasn’t a spell, per se, it lacked a mana cost and instead drained from my stamina pool. Since it wasn’t what my interface called a channeled spell, I assumed it carried a one-time cost.

Master Mizwel clarified. “You’ll note how this channeled spell not only comes with a base mana cost of 15, but also uses that amount per second. While the majority of spells for a given class are not channeled, they can become quite resource-intensive. As you’ll learn in your time at Warrington Academy, balancing the use of your resources is crucial to success in combat.”

Hands shot up all around the room, but the master waved them away.

“I have not instructed you sufficiently for you to ask questions formed on solid foundations. Today’s class is a lecture. If you have questions, there will be a five-minute session at the end of class. I find this method of instruction saves time since I will likely answer many of your queries before we’re finished. If you leave class feeling unclear, refer to the text you were provided. If you still can’t figure out the answers to your queries, you may set an appointment to meet with me.”

Shabana smiled and leaned toward me. “Seems our first teacher is a hard case.”

Master Mizwel’s head whipped around and his chin cocked upward. “A hard case, maybe. Your best source of knowledge regarding magical foundations in Enora? Definitely.” He winked his eyes, and added, “Miss Shabana.”

The mishon’s face flushed the color of sliced beets as heads throughout the room swiveled in our direction. I spied smiles, scowls, and expressions of confusion. Attention flitted from her to me, but I raised my chin and focused on the instructor until he continued. The weight of their gazes sent ripples of apprehension up my spine.

Hurry up, continue!

When he did and the heads faced front again, a weight lifted and I realized I’d been pressing my fingernails into my palms.

“Let’s use levitate as an example to illustrate an important concept… Spell Disciplines. Feel free to make notes in your interfaces, but you’ll find this information in the texts.

“There are three spell disciplines—Light, Shadow, and Agnostic. While some might intuit agnosticism is a religious principle when taken in the context of magic disciplines, I assure you, it is not.

“Where Light and Shadow skills often—not always, but often—require a trainer to learn, some spells can be learned automatically through a combination of magic potential and a person’s intuition. Agnostic spells and abilities are more likely to be learned this way due to a high magic potential alone, but Light and Shadow spells that can be self-taught usually require a high affinity in the given discipline and magic potential.” He raised both hands then dropped off the table like a much younger man might.

He paced along its length, turned, then paced back as he spoke.

“For instance, let’s say a being holds a magic potential of seventy-five percent. That’s quite high. On that basis alone, they are more likely to learn agnostic spells of their own accord. But with a magic potential that elevated and a Light potential above, oh, let’s say fifty-percent, they could also learn a spell like Inner Illumination when squinting in a dark space. Here.” He swept his hand toward us and text filled my mind window again.

Inner Illumination

Level 4

Allows the caster to see in dark environments

Type: Channeled spell

Cost: 35 Mana

Discipline: Light

Duration: Until ended

Cooldown: N/A

Master Mizwel turned his head. “Yin?”

“Yes, Master Mizwel?” A youngish woman in a muted black robe stood in the doorway to the left of the table. A topping of green hair merged with long black locks that fell straight to her back. Her skin was frosty white.

“The shutters please.”

“Of course.”

Master Mizwel waved a hand toward her. “My aide, Yin.”

She cast a glance across the room as she unhooked the first shutter. She closed four pairs, casting blackness over the room, except for the light creeping in from the hallway. Our instructor closed the door, then only the faint outlines of the students’ heads along the tiered rises were visible. I squinted to locate the boy who’d insulted Shabana.

“In circumstances such as these, one might so desire sight, that they—”

A white flash surrounded me, then dissipated as quickly as it had come.

You have learned a new spell:

Inner Illumination

Level 4

Allows the caster to see in dark environments

Type: Channeled spell

Cost: 35 Mana

Discipline: Light

Duration: Until ended

Cooldown: N/A

Your Light Magic skill has reached rank 1.

“Ah!” the instructor boomed. “We have a winner already!” Master Durring paced to the bottom of the steps and peered in my direction. “Rise, young lady, and tell us your name.”

Warmth flooded my cheeks, and I wondered if they were as red as Shabana’s had been. She squeezed my hand.

“Yin, the candles please. I don’t want to flood her senses.” The harsh light caused my eyes to blink, then water.

The candles in the candelabra above as well as lining the walls bloomed to life as Yin’s hands glowed orange. Then the assistant lowered them as the color faded.

“Now, please. Please.” He turned his hands palm up and flicked them at the wrists. “Rise.”

Given no other option, I rose and said my name. “Tess.” Then I dropped down again. I set my eyes on Master Mizwel Durring when the weight of the students’ gazes proved unbearable.

“Tess of Millbury, I see. Well, Tess. Perhaps you can help me illustrate.” He ascended the first two stairs. “What’s your magic potential?”

I scanned the faces of everyone in the room to find all their gazes glued to me. Smiles. Scowls. Confused frowns. My heart knocked against my ribs as if it wanted out.

“A shy one, I see. Well, no matter. Come, you’re among friends here. Your potential, please.”

Magister Leira’s respect for my desire to keep it secret, even if intuited, left me conflicted. The last thing I wanted was to stand out, but elusiveness would undoubtedly spur curiosity in the other students’ minds. I frowned. “One hundred percent.”

The jaws of two students nearby dropped. One was a girl with cropped hair that rose high in the back while her bangs flooded down to her eyes. The other was a boy about my age with no hair to speak of.

“Come now,” the master said. “Speak up.”

I coughed the incessant stone from my throat. “One hundred percent.”

The instructor jerked. “What?” He took a couple more steps toward me, his toe catching on one of the stairs. He recovered then tilted his head. “Are you my first joker? Having a go at me, are you?”

I shook my head. “I would never.”

“One hundred? That borders on impossible, young lady.”

I shrugged, not knowing what else to do.

“Why, I haven’t seen the like in ages. There isn’t a master in this academy with that potential.”

“Really?” I asked without thinking.

“Yes. Really. Not that I’m aware of.” He shook his head in derision. “I know I said I wouldn’t profess as to religious sentiments, but you’re a blessed being, Tess of Millbury, and I expect great things from you.” He shoved an unforgiving finger in my direction. The knotted knuckles of his extended digit loomed like a sword to my throat. “And what is your Light affinity?”

“Twenty-four percent, although I’m certain it was twenty-three yesterday.”

“Right! Learning a single spell raised your affinity because of your high potential. Impressive!”

The warmth in my face refreshed itself.

“So class, you’ll note that when I said a more reasonably high potential in the seventies combined with a Light disposition of around fifty might allow someone to learn spells automatically, and out of focus or necessity. But our new friend here, Tess, has the maximum possible potential, which means she required a lower Light affinity to learn Inner Illumination.” He half-bowed. “Congratulations, Tess of Millbury. You now have sight that shall serve you in the bowels of darkness for the rest of your life.”

The student who’d called Shabana a beast earlier threw up a hand.

Master Mizwel nodded. “If you must.”

The boy, young man—whatever—thrust a finger toward the master’s assistant. “She cast a fire spell to light the candles. Doesn’t fire require Shadow magic?”

My first thought was that his question had taken the focus off me, and even though he’d been so rude to Shabana, I could appreciate that. But then it occurred that the change of subject belittled what Master Durring called my blessing. Even though I lacked frequent exposure to people and had little to compare by, his question left me with the sense he wanted to be the center of attention—my polar opposite.

A slow smile stretched the master’s wrinkled features. “Ah, so you didn’t come in totally blind, I see.” A low rumble of laughter filled the room. “Indeed, my assistant is schooled in the Shadow Arts and could burn you to ashes with little more than a thought.”

I gulped.

The boy turned his head to face forward, like his ego couldn’t bear the weight of a shunning.

“One day, you might advance in the Light enough to feel a chill when she’s nearby. But let’s address the question you wanted to ask. Why would I select an aide who is versed in the Shadow?”

I decided I liked Master Durring. The way he stifled the bigot’s ego then turned it to a teaching moment was worthy of my respect.

“Who would venture a guess?”

I raised a hand.

“You have thoughts, Tess of Millbury?”

I nodded. “It’s as you said. We’re not here to learn Light or Shadow, but the fundamentals. What better way to teach us than by having such an aide to display what skills you cannot…” I paused as I considered how my words might be interpreted. “Master.”

“Correct, Tess.” He paced back to the table, levitated, then sat atop it again. “You will see me after class.”

13

I only approached the table after Shabana promised to wait for me in the hall.

“Ah, Miss Tess.”

My knees quaked with trepidation. Here I’d sat in my first class at the academy—the gift of attendance presented to me by people who’d saved my life from the snows when they’d had no obligation to do so—and I’d blown the opportunity almost immediately by insinuating I had any concept as to my first teacher’s magical limitations when compared to his assistant.

“I’m sorry, Master Mizwel.” I half-knelt. “I didn’t mean to imply you lacked the—oh, I don’t know—magical prowess? No, that’s not it. Magical knowledge—I’m so sorry.”

“Tess?”

I raised my head to find a soft expression molded onto his wrinkled face. He stroked his beard, then leaned on the table. “Are you under the impression I’m displeased?”

“Well, yes. My mouth prefaced my mind and—”

He raised a hand, showing me the deep wrinkles in his palm. “Tess, be at ease. I didn’t call you here to admonish you out of some sense of ego. I just wanted to set eyes on one such at yourself up close. To discuss your future.”

“My future?”

He nodded with emphasis. “Indeed. Did my words fail to lend the appropriate weight of your blessings? Or your luck, if you prefer.”

“Well, yes, I suppose.”

“No, you don’t. But that’s fine. It actually pleases me you have no concept of your potential because it means you are a blank page upon which to be written.”

My jaw clenched. “And who would write the appropriate words on my page?”

A smile escaped from beneath his wiry white beard. “Why, you would, Tess. Come, sit for a moment. I promise not to keep you from your next class.” He paced to one of the desks and gestured for me to sit next to him. I left one chair empty between us. “You have the potential to become a very powerful magician, but you shouldn’t expect it to be easy. I don’t say this because you’ll find it exceptionally difficult to learn magic but because your potential is limitless. With such a high threshold, you could learn to weave from the ley lines flooding far below us. That is to say, you could create your own spells.”

“Create my own? What?”

He nodded. “This is really a topic for the advanced, fourth year curriculum we’ve designed for those who graduate as Third Years. And that assumes we can locate students with high enough Magic Potentials and affinities. It’s new, even to us. You see, there was an event—”

I nodded. “Master Mora told me.”

“Ah.” Again, he nodded. “The fourth-year curriculum is a responsibility visited only upon those who wish to share knowledge with first years and who would practice advanced magic in a laboratory environment as well as in the wilds. Third-year students will have the options to go their own ways or join the academy’s defense forces. But you, well, if you reach your potential, Solara’s kingdom is the limit. So, I hope you’ll forgive my intrusion. I just wanted to make sure, before you left your first class, you know I’ll be watching you. We all will.”

My forehead crinkled up before I could suppress it. “Watching me?”

“Oh, don’t let it put you off. It’s not like we need to babysit. You are seventeen, yes? A woman grown. So, you will forge your own destiny. We will assist in molding you to become what you desire.” He raised a finger. “But Tess, you must take these gifts seriously. Even as a Light caster, you will learn offensive spells that could cause severe damage to your enemies… or your friends. Since you seem bent on hiding your other affinity, I will keep your secret.”

A chill whispered through my shoulders then down my arms until my fingertips became numb. I wanted to ask how he’d known, but he continued talking as if he hadn’t raised the subject, and I took that as a signal my secret was safe.

“We will help you control your magic, but you must begin with the knowledge that it can do harm and cost you everything if misused.”

I nodded. “I understand.”

“Good.” He rose. “The Fundamentals of Magic will teach you how the world works. You’ll learn about mana and other energy sources. But you will not learn about control. Your next class will eventually involve combat training. It will be stringently supervised, and it’s a good thing.” He chuckled. “Why, when you learn Smite, you could very well punch a hole in someone’s temple. I suppose this is why we use duels.”

“This does not make me feel better.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “Worry not. Just seek assistance in those times you have doubts. Your demeanor in the seats on high was that of a recluse, someone who wasn’t eager to respond to my queries. I respect that. But you should overcome your shyness, and I will help.” He led me to the door. “We will all help.”

“So, you will tell the others of my potential?”

“Yes. This is not optional. But since you chose the School of Light, I will keep your other secret under my hood.”

I eyed Shabana, who leaned against a wall outside with her sack thrown over one shoulder, but then I stopped.

The wrinkles of age cast in waves across his forehead deepened as his bushy eyebrows arched. He twisted his lips the slightest bit to one side, an expression of contemplation that brought memories of my father to bear. I pushed away a sudden punch of loss in my gut. The shrewd master spoke as if he read my thoughts.

“The school of Shadow is taught by excellent teachers, but Shadow can be a dangerous discipline when wielded by untrustworthy hands—or those susceptible to the temptations of evil in this world.” His eyes brightened, then the eyebrows relaxed. “Thank goodness we don’t have that problem, since you’ve chosen the Light.” He patted my shoulder gently, then gestured for me to pass through the door. “Get to your next class.”

I was just about to thank Shabana for waiting when he spoke from behind.

“Unless there’s something you’re not telling me.”

It wasn’t quite a question.

I turned, forced a flat expression onto my features, then shook my head.

He nodded then returned to the classroom.

“What was that all about?” Shabana asked as we paced down the long corridor.

“It seems I’ve garnered unwanted attention.”

“In what form?” She grabbed my hand to keep me from continuing along then pulled me toward a spiral staircase leading to the next floor.

I gripped the iron rail and followed. “Master Mizwel is going to tell the other instructors about my potential. When Roshan took me to Desini to announce the score, I thought perhaps she was just trying to make me feel good about myself. Because she’s like that, you know?”

Shabana cackled in a strange laugh that resonated with clicks in her throat. “If you’d seen Roshan before she took over the temple, you might not think so. When that woman gets a crazy inkling about someone disrespecting the will of the goddess, she’ll burn them down—even if only verbally.”

“Oh, I can’t imagine that.”

“Then take my word for it.” She shuffled up the stairway, skipping steps in a dexterous motion that dizzied me.

“Well, it seems she was being sincere.”

“I would say so. You just painted a target on your back.”

“You think so?”

“Ha! Yeah, but don’t worry. Jealousy abounds. It’s not your problem what others think.” She paused in her ascent, then peered down at me. “Stick with me, and no one will mess with you.” Shabana leaned close. “Or I’ll beat them with my staff.”

Somehow, I believed her.

When we reached the top of the stairs, she came to a sudden halt.

After squeezing past her, I saw why. A young man with reddish hair and a chiseled jaw stood just past the entrance to the stairwell, and I recognized him from earlier. He’d been the one to hustle forward to catch up with his bigoted friend.

“Hey.” He lowered his gaze to the ground, then up again. “I just wanted to apologize for Johin. I heard what he called you, but I didn’t want you to think just because I was walking with him that I think that way. I think it’s great they’ve opened the academy to all races. Earlier, I even spotted an elf and heard rumor we have a master who is one.”

Shabana nodded. “I won’t associate you with his bigotry, then. Thank you.”

He extended his hand. “I’m Elren Xen.”

Shabana shook it, then he offered it to me. I grasped it like Looli had shown me the night before, then gave it a firm shake.

“That’s quite a grip you have there, Tess. Were you an iron worker before you came to the academy?” A smile bloomed to reveal a perfect set of ivory teeth. An unfamiliar warmth circulated through my appendages.

“I lived on a farm with my father.”

“Ah. I bet you have a solid Strength attribute.”

I raised one shoulder in a shrug. “Maybe.”

“Well, look. A few of us are meeting after second class today. If you two would like to join us and think you can stomach Johin’s company, I’d love to have you.”

Shabana glanced at me then nodded. “Sure. Where?”

“In the field on the temple side. We’re up for a little adventure if you are.”

“Hmm,” Shabana mewed. “Sounds interesting.”

I wasn’t so sure it did. The surroundings at the academy—high spires, sprawling interior, and regal designs—proved plenty intimidating, themselves. But the noise was starting to weigh on me in a unique and disturbing way.

In Warrington on the thoroughfare, the sights and sounds of bustling activity had intrigued me. I’d never seen so many people. In fact, I’d rarely seen anyone but my father since he didn’t even allow me to accompany him on his trade journeys to the towns in the Gynas Peaks. Put all together, the idea of sitting around with these boys—men, whatever—struck me as a proving grounds for intimidation. Especially since one of them had just called my friend a beast earlier.

It wasn’t the use of the word so much as the way he’d said it. A dark enthusiasm had stretched the single syllable into a sustained offense. Unschooled as I was in social propriety, I might have been overreacting, and if Shabana wasn’t intimidated by the prospect of sharing Johin’s company, my own offenses should be set aside.

“So, will you come?” Elren Xen asked.

Something in the softened features of his face elicited a nod.

“Great!” His eyes ticked up and to the right. “Guess we’d better get to class.”

He hustled ahead, and I fell in next to Shabana as she strode behind then followed him inside.

This class was designed with the same tiered seating as earlier, but our preferred seats in the rear were taken. It surprised me, as I’d have expected people to select the same seats in a room so resembling the last. Since it hadn’t worked out like that, we climbed to the rear and sat on the side farthest from them.

The one who’d called Shabana a beast—Johin—had taken his same seat in the front row closest to the door. We passed him and the friend who greeted us in the hallway outside, but I spared neither a glance. A strange chill coursed through my neck, and I found myself wanting for my staff, despite my lack of training with the weapon.

Stop being ridiculous. No one is going to hurt you here.

When the class settled, a side door—this time on the right—eased slowly open. The hinges squeaked, and then a tall, thin man appeared. His sun-bleached hair appeared nearly white and fell straight to his shoulders. Although short, the tips of his ears swept up into sharp points. I contrasted them to the longer ones the candle-wielding Guiles had back at the borough.

He spread his hands out to his sides, palms up, at shoulder height. His voice was steady, his diction perfect. Every syllable, each consonant, pronounced. “Good tidings to you, first class of Warrington Academy. My name is Joren Renard, servant of the Queen Simansia, and your instructor for Constitutional Development.”

Shabana nudged my elbow. “Renard. He must be one of Guiles’s cousins.”

“Guiles?” I whispered. “The one who brought me the candle yesterday morning?”

“You know another Guiles?”

Unlike Master Mizwel, Renard circled to the rear of the marble-topped table then sat on a stool so high, I could see his bent knees. He gazed toward us in the back. “Yes, Guiles. If you want to be respectful, I suppose you’d call him Prince Renard.”

He raised an index finger. “And before you ask the obvious follow-up as to the chances I could end up having to return to the Queen’s Forest to perform royal duties, Guiles is my distant cousin, and I’m 237th in line to the queen’s throne, so unless someone wipes out a whole elven race, I guess you’re stuck with me for the duration.”

Shabana slapped her hand to her mouth. I wondered if enhanced hearing was a requirement for instructors, and if it might be a spell like Inner Illumination.

The elf, however, moved on. “If you’ll allow me a moment, I wish to commit your names to my interface.” The elf winked his eyes in succession, then scanned each row of students in rapid succession. “Good. Now I have your shining faces right here.”

Master Joren explained the rules of his classroom and those involving access to him, and we found they followed the pattern of Master Mizwel’s utterances. A student in the front yawned, while another fiddled around in her bag for something. Master Joren twirled a finger in the latter’s direction. “Miss Rona. Please tell me you have snacks to share with all of us in that bag.”

Her head shot up. “Huh?”

A smile crept across the elf’s features, smoothing them out in a way that made him seem much younger. “I am here to teach you Constitutional Fundamentals. Nothing in your bag will aide you in the pursuit of the knowledge I impart. Please focus on my every word, lest you miss something important.” The elf slipped off the stool without awaiting a response. When he spoke again, his tone was louder, and his voice echoed off the rear wall backing the top row of the tiered seating. “What you will learn here will save your life. Pay heed to it, and perhaps you will survive the conflicts many of you will face.

“While we don’t expect all of you will qualify for the Academy Defense Forces, the Millbury Regiment, or”—he tilted his chin down and set his eyes on a girl I hadn’t noticed in the second row whose ears curved into points of their own—”the Queen’s Regiments, conflict has spread throughout eastern Rubal, and you might someday find yourselves in a dangerous situation where what you learn here will prove the difference between life and death.” His lips curved into a wry smile. “Who knows, maybe you’ll even end up in one of the new adventurer guilds popping up all over Rubal.”

He circled to the front of the table.

“First, I’ll allow a moment for your questions.” He spread his hands out again, this time in invitation.

Words from somewhere below were muttered, so I only caught the end of the question.

“…end up at the academy for human magicians?”

I leaned forward to see who’d spoken.

The elf’s expression didn’t change. “Please stand, and introduce yourself to your fellow students. Then restate your question with some measure of confidence. After all, if you’re going to be intentionally insulting, you should own your disposition.”

I wasn’t surprised in the least when Johin stood and introduced himself. He did it with a sound confidence that put me ill at ease. Then he repeated his question. “How did an elf end up at the academy for human magicians?”

The audacity of the question, considering he’d also called my friend a beast, caused my upper lip to curl into a snarl.

Master Joren nodded, interlocked his fingers behind his back, then paced toward the windows. “Thank you, Johin. You may take your seat.” After he complied, the elf lowered his chin. “Your classmate’s sentiments aren’t uncommon. And while he knows very well this academy no longer follows the racist attitudes imposed out of compliance with a king’s edicts of many ages ago, I’m sure he’s not alone in his thoughts.”

I was suddenly reconsidering the plan to meet with Johin and Elren after class. The idea an instructor might look out that huge window to find me in proximity to such a cretin brought the lump back to my throat. But I also didn’t want to disappoint the one friend I’d made since fleeing home.

Curses flooded my mind over the conflict.

Master Joren pivoted. “But it should be made clear, there will be no tolerance for offenses against people of different races. Even by the son of the High Chancellor of Trowlsby. Are my words transparent enough, Johin?”

“Yes,” he growled.

Then Elren surprised me when he shoved his friend’s shoulder.

Johin raised his chin and spoke more clearly. “Yes, Master Joren.”

“Thank you.” The elf leaned against the table. “Now, if there are no other questions, let’s discuss the purpose of this class.”

No questions were voiced.

14

Master Joren swept his long hair over his shoulder. “As the name of the class implies, we are here to develop your Constitutions and knowledge surrounding this special attribute. While you’ll learn about Intelligence and Wisdom in Master Mizwel’s class, Constitution is the only attribute to receive dedicated focus in your first-year studies.”

He raised a single finger. “And with good reason. Constitution equals hit points. Although it’s obvious, I’ll state here that when your hit points reach zero, you’ll die.”

Chuckles filled the room.

Joren allowed a narrow smile and waved a hand. “But if we get all the obvious topics out of the way, we can start expanding your hungry minds. As magicians of the Light, you might be called upon to heal offensive combatants. The vast majority of Light casters are called to this purpose, and understanding how Constitution affects the people you protect serves everyone involved in a party.

“Imagine you’re in a group of four. You are a healer. The tank defending the party by gaining the ire of the enemy will sustain many injuries. You will heal those wounds. But what if you heal ineffectively? What if you over-heal and find your mana pool depleted?

“Your tank dies. The enemy will then turn its attention to the person who most annoyed it while it battled your front-line fighter. Anyone want to guess who the target of its ire is likely to be?”

The answer was so obvious, not a single hand went up.

“Right.” He extended one finger, stretched his arm across the table, then swept it in an arc across his body. “You!” He barked the word so loud in resounded throughout the room and several people, including me, jerked. Then he slid off the stool and leaned his elbows on the table. “And when you die, I will have failed the mission I began when I walked through that door.” He thrust a thumb over his shoulder then leaned even further across the long table. “And I, class, do not fail.”

He let the words penetrate before he continued. In the interim, several gazes wandered, and I received more than a few nods from strangers.

A door on the left opened. A young elf entered dragging a massive chest. He didn’t call out, nor did the two elves acknowledge each other. After leaving his burden on the floor in front of the table, he departed.

Master Joren waved a hand at the chest. “Starting from that side of the room, you will rise one row at a time and retrieve one top and one bottom from the chest. These will be the clothes you wear for the physical training we will undertake.”

Johin rose, then Elren. The rest of the row filed in behind them as Master Joren continued.

“At birth, you receive eighty points in Stamina and your hit point pool. The goddess deems we receive eight of each when we receive a point of Constitution. That Constitution impacts two vital resource pools justifies a class devoted to increasing the attribute. We aren’t here to sit on our duffs and talk.

“In ages past, healers often weren’t asked to focus on their physical training because they focused their energies on gaining high intellect. They received a point of Constitution every level, then two points beginning at level twenty. Many fell as a result. But through rigorous exercise, we will gain Constitution points to increase our health pool and stamina so you don’t meet the same fate—should you prove efficient enough to be called to serve.

“It’s vital we perform various kinds of exercise to keep these earned points flowing. For instance, once you possess the Constitution—and thereby, Stamina—to run ten miles, each additional point of Constitution earned by running will require more effort to earn. But if you drop down on your hands and do pushups with regularity, you’ll gain rewards with less effort. Then, the easier pushups become, the less bonus Stamina earned. Any questions?”

No hands rose.

“Fine. The council of this academy has adopted a millennia-old regimen of exercise routines that will optimize your Stamina gains for a long time to come. In the early going, you will earn Constitution points, but this becomes less frequent with each earned.”

A young man with a shaved head raised one hand. When Master Joren called on him, he said, “If we’re so focused on Stamina, why call it a Constitution class?”

“Perhaps I was unclear. We will also engage in combat exercise in this class. In second semester, you will be grouped into parties then venture out to combat low-level vermin to start your leveling process. With each level, you will receive Constitution attribute increases. From those, you will receive Stamina and hit points. The latter is vital if you want to survive a fight, but you could always use the former to run away and leave your party to die. We focus on both, so the attribute—and not the resource pools—is our primary focus.”

The student nodded his understanding.

“Hmm, where was I?”

Not knowing what possessed me, I called out the answer. “You were talking about an ancient exercise regimen.”

Joren Renard raised one finger. “Ah! Right! Thank you.” He paced back toward his stool but didn’t sit. “Until now, no race outside the Queen’s Forest has lain eyes upon this process. It is now my great honor to teach it to you. My people train every citizen of New Ninn from an early age, and someday you might fight beside them. Since you don’t enjoy the benefits of having started young, you have a lot of catching up to do if you plan to keep up.”

The second row approached the chest while the first sat and folded the pants and shirts of thin fabric they’d gathered.

“I’m sending each of you the requirements for this class, but one should stand out above all others. I have taken note of your current combat levels, and I will be apprised of each level you gain during your training. Any Constitution points gained from advancement, including any spent as electives, will be subtracted from your semester total. In order to pass this class, you must gain a minimum of forty-eight Stamina points by the end of the term.”

The bald man’s hand shot up again.

Joren Renard shook his head. “Because the council deemed it is called Constitution class. Put your hand down.”

The hand dropped, as did the master’s exasperation, evidenced by a return to his softer tone. “You will inevitably fail. You will cast one too many heals and find yourselves choking down a mana or health potion to accommodate. But beginning today, we will take to the fields out back, and we will do so every class, come rain or snow. We will turn you into robust specimens who can survive your mistakes by running away until your mana replenishes itself.”

Chuckles filled the room.

‘Today?” Johin uttered. “We start running today?”

“Yes, Johin. Today.”

“Would’ve been nice to know,” he muttered, but only insomuch as it could still be heard from my seat on high.

“And you shall demonstrate the exercises before the class performs them. Then you will do them again with the class.”

To my surprise, Johin’s response came without delay but was perfectly measured. “Yes, Master Renard.”

The elf nodded his approval. “Very Good.” He pointed to the door on the left. “Young men will change there.” He pointed to the other. “And young ladies, there.” He dropped his hand. “There are sacks in there. Pack your clothes so you can take them with you from the field. There’s no need to return here.”

Where some might have taken offense at being compared to his elven brethren, I found his words encouraging. Being outside and pushing myself to my physical limits to improve my chances of survival was one thing, but earning the right to fight beside a legendary race about whom my father regaled me with tales from early childhood?

Bring it on.

* * *

No sign of rain or snow. The cloudless azure sky stretched from the western mountains to the high pines far beyond the low eastern wall. It was time to get sweaty, and I was devoted to the program. If someone would’ve asked me three days earlier if I’d long for the laborious work of the farm, I’d have responded with a resounding no. But that morning, I knew the tension in my muscles wasn’t solely trepidation. I yearned for activity. I’d had none since the duel with Shabana, and I longed for a reason to have an extended soak for sore muscles late that night, after all the others had cleared the queue.

Besides, I could’ve sworn I felt my Constitution melting away.

Master Renard showed Johin how he could stretch a muscle in his leg by setting it on the top of the inner fence that surrounded the campus. He stretched each leg three times before we joined and mimicked the motion. As promised, Johin continued to stretch with us.

Master Renard seemed to have a sense of humor. “Continue to mouth off Johin, and you’ll end up the most limber of us all.”

Johin surprised me again with a willing smile. “Yes, Master Renard. My legs will undoubtedly flap in the wind.”

With that little piece of business done, Master Renard pointed toward the western fence. “Run.”

Most the students stared back at him, but I took off. The elven girl I’d noticed in the second row also launched without hesitation. Shabana blew past me in seconds. A quick head check revealed Elren had launched just after us, and Johin lagged just behind. When we’d completed half a lap around the field, Master Renard had crossed down the middle then joined us.

He raised his voice as he filed among us. “When we complete the lap, each of you will quicken or decrease your pace until you balance your Stamina meter. For instance, you might find you can reasonably maintain a stamina range of forty-five to fifty-five, so aim for those numbers. If you’re in better condition and can maintain my pace, you may run with me.”

The elven student I’d noticed in my first class took off, sprinting by the rest of the class.

Shabana, who’d dropped back to run beside me, smiled and cocked her chin toward the elven female. “Sorry, kid, I gotta put this one to the test.”

I gave my head a dismissive shake and gestured ahead. The mishon launched into a sprint and left me far behind in seconds. I watched as her tail swayed high and proud behind her until she caught up to the elf.

Elren jogged up next to me to fill in her spot. He spoke between breaths. “I guess… those mishon can really… move.”

I nodded, my gaze locked on my Stamina bar. It’d dipped down to 57% and I wanted to ease into the zone the professor asked for so I could better sustain it. While my muscles were used to hard work, my legs had the heavier build resulting from mountain hiking with my father. Running was not commonplace.

“They’re really fast.”

Johin moved up on my other side. “They really are. I had no idea they could run like that. Can’t say it surprises me exactly.”

“Don’t start your bigot routine, Johin.”

“I was just picking this morning,” Johin said to me. “I didn’t mean to sound like it came off.”

Although tempted to ask him why he followed up his bigotry by questioning why non-humans were allowed into the academy, the last thing I wanted my first day in class was conflict. I didn’t like the way he’d treated Shabana, but that didn’t mean informing him would affect change in his disposition. So, I made better use of my mouth by breathing deep as my Stamina dipped below 45%.

“Quiet type, huh?” Elren chuckled.

“Exhausted type. Not used… to running.” The attribute dropped then a wave of vertigo tilted the world before me. My mind window popped warning text.

Your Stamina has dropped to 30%.

I slowed my pace and dropped back from my uninvited running companions. Elren fell back to continue his run beside me. I might’ve sighed with exasperation were it not for my low Stamina.

He fought through a few short breaths before pulling one deep enough to project an even stream of words. “Thank Solara. That pace was starting to tax me.”

“I don’t need your sympathy.” I chuckled. “Just not used to running.”

Elren dropped a couple steps back. After a glance at my Stamina, I sacrificed my pride and slowed to join him.

“I was starting to think you didn’t like me, the way you were pacing yourself.” His breaths came in short huffs.

“I think deeper breaths might help. My Stamina just ticked up to forty-percent and is climbing.”

He tried to force a deeper breath into his chest but coughed instead. Then he slowed even more. He waved me off. “Maintain, or Master what’s-his-name might have you out here after sunset.”

I nodded and continued ahead. About half a lap later, I peered back to find he’d located his comfortable pace, and I can’t say I wasn’t happy that at least I wasn’t the slowest in the class. In fact, it seemed about 70% lagged behind me, with just a few runners up ahead. But I wasn’t so thrilled when Master Renard, the elven girl, and Shabana lapped us. The latter threw me an enthusiastic wave as they passed, and I didn’t see a lick of sweat anywhere on her face.

I hated her for it and mouthed as much.

When I glanced back a second time, a white flash surrounded Elren. He pumped a victorious fist, but then thought better of the added expression of energy when he nearly tripped from exhaustion and returned it to its original pumping motion.

Our master called out for a full-on sprint when they’d advanced another half-lap ahead of us. The leading trio stopped while the rest of us sprinted around. When I arrived, he waved his hand toward the center of the field. “Go to the middle and sit.”

As I jogged toward the center huffing wildly with a blinking red stamina bar, a white flash surrounded me then fizzled out.

You have gained one Constitution Point.

+8 Stamina

My drop to the grass was less than graceful, but I couldn’t have cared less. My chest thumped so hard, the beat reached my throat. I bent my elbows out to my sides and set my palms on my eyes. It proved laborious to force the breaths I needed to recover my Stamina, but I was overjoyed at my accomplishment. The bar’s red blinking ceased as it ticked up to reflect the increase earned from a single Constitution point and the associated Stamina.

First day of class—two advancements. I’d never received a Stamina point by running before and wondered if it was because my advancement was limited by the bonding to my father.

When I removed my hands, a figure stood near, casting a shadow over me. When I realized it was Master Renard, I made as if to rise.

“No, that’s fine. A supine position will help you recover more quickly.” He raised his gaze to survey the class. “Please raise your hand if you gained a Stamina point today.”

Every hand went up except for the elven student.

The elf smiled then shook his head. “What few requirements humans must ask of their children. Well, at least you saw how easy it can be to gain Stamina in the beginning. Did anyone gain a Constitution point?”

I raised my hand. One other girl raised hers.

“Excellent. Our friends here have gained eight hit points and eight Stamina, almost as if to stack their attributes so they might soundly throttle the rest of you in combat practice the day after tomorrow.”

“Combat practice?” a young guy asked. He was a frail one. His ribs poked through his thin shirt. I assumed he hadn’t been listening in class, but Master Renard didn’t point it out.

“Don’t worry. I’ll supervise.”

I believed him.

He dismissed us, and the frail young man paced over. “Congrats on your Constitution point. Only forty Stamina to go.” He threw out a hand, noticed a clump of grass, then rubbed it against the hip of his exercise pants.

I shook his hand, anyway. Dirt wasn’t new to my fingers. “Tess of Millbury.”

He smiled. “Harbon of Millbury.”

I stopped in my tracks, balled my hands into fists, then rested them on my hips. “Millbury? Really?” My eyes traced his form in a blink. “What part?”

“Normiston.”

“No kidding! We were about twenty minutes south of there by horse. My father traded there all the time.”

“Small world.”

“So, you farmed?” I eyed the thin lines of his arms in doubt.

Harbon shook his head. “The outpost there. My father was a commander in the governor’s regiments.”

My jaw clenched. “Ah.” The single syllable was clipped.

He raised a hand to display his palm. “Before you judge, you should know that’s why I’m here. My father and I are very different people. He formed a band of resisters like the ones we heard about in class and set out when the Templars took the governor’s seat. Everyone in the outpost went with him. When I refused to go, he abandoned me. I nearly starved.”

“How did you survive?” I doubted the farmers in the area would’ve sustained the child of an outpost commander. Then again, some were pious, and thusly charitable. Anything was possible.

“I rode south to Trowlsby. The academy priestess found me there while aiding the elves in defense of the city when the demon scourge invaded from the Plague Barrens to the north. When she realized I had a mana pool and my soul bond to my father had been broken, she told me about this place.” The muscle beneath one corner of his nose twitched. “And if it interests you, I hope to someday cross paths with my father while he’s up to no good so I can teach him the folly of underestimating me.”

“Good for you. I hope I’m standing next to you when you teach him that lesson.” I pointed toward Shabana, who leaned against the inner fence with Johin and Elren. “A few of us are about to meet up. You want to come?”

He scanned the direction I pointed. “You know, I’m going to beat the crowd for the midday meal. But maybe I’ll catch up later and we can regale one another about our lives in Millbury.”

“Is it Johin?”

Harbon nodded. “Had a run-in with him a couple days ago. He calls me Strap because I’m thin.” He leaned toward me then turned his head so he faced the ground. His voice came so low, I strained to hear his words. “I don’t know if you have combat skills, but something about the way your mishon friend carries herself tells me she does. I grew up around soldiers, I know that swagger when I see it. Trust me when I tell you to keep her close by if you’re going to keep his kind of company.”

A shiver snaked its way up my back. If it hadn’t been for Shabana, I might have turned away and followed him to the dining hall. But when I saw her leaning there between two strangers, gaze pasted on me, I knew I had to go.

“Okay. Well, I’ll look forward to our regaling.”

He bowed. “I’m at your service.” Harbon grabbed the sack with his clothes then set off. I watched him go and couldn’t help but draw a comparison to our common tidings. We’d both been left to fend for ourselves in the world and ended up here.

Perhaps alliances were formed by such similarities.

15

Johin spoke in high tones when I approached, like the occasional beggar preachers who would show up at our farms unannounced. Something about the way his cadence rose and fell annoyed me.

“Right here. I saw it for myself.”

Elren shook his head. “Bull dung. Such delusions of grandeur. Like you always know something no one else does.”

Johin shook his head. “I’m not the only one who knows. My father tells me every instructor in this academy knows about it. They don’t speak of it, and they probably won’t. It makes me wonder if some of them were involved in dark deeds that predated us.”

“And if they don’t speak about it, how does your father know?”

Johin shoved his shoulder. “Because, imbecile. Being the primary patron of the academy comes with its benefits.”

Elren scoffed. “But you claim it’s a conspiracy by the professors to otherwise hide a shrouded past to protect the reputation of their fine institution?” He waved his hands in grandiose motions, then leaned against the fence next to Shabana. “As if his lofty title would demand such knowledge.”

I cocked an eyebrow at Shabana. She shook her head and refocused on the young men on either side.

“He’s the High Chancellor of the Trowlsby Council of Elders.”

Elren smirked. “This isn’t Trowlsby. It’s Warrington.”

“Trowlsby makes this town look like a pig trough. Besides, my father has connections everywhere.”

I couldn’t resist any longer. “What are we talking about?”

Johin grinned from ear to ear. If it hadn’t been for the dispositions he’d displayed up until that point, I might have found his chiseled features attractive. Alas, I didn’t.

“The scryer.”

“What’s that?”

“Someone who uses magic to find people far away… for foul purpose.”

“Reeks of fairy lore, to me,” Elren said. “Remind me to never buy a staff from you lest I walk away with a petrified log.”

“It’s true! Ask anyone in town. You’ll hear it was like a weight being lifted off this place when the evil bastard disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” I asked.

“I admit, a lot of the circumstances surrounding my tale are founded in rumor, so I don’t know exactly what happened.” He pointed a crooked finger toward the temple in the distance. “But this dark presence lived in The Below… beneath this very university. I can prove it. Call me liar, and I will do so.”

“Oh, yeah?” Elren shoved his own finger into Johin’s chest. “You, sir, are a liar.” He dropped his hand then gave a curt nod, but the way his lips quivered, I could tell he suppressed a smile.

I homed in on words Johin had spoken. “The Below?”

Elren pointed toward the chapel then headed off my question. “I have no patience for ghost stories. Show your proof, Johin.” He pushed off the fence and headed toward the building. “The Below, indeed.”

Johin flashed a brief but wide smile in my direction before setting off after his companion.

I grabbed Shabana’s forearm. “What are we doing, here?”

“Come on, it might be fun. I love lore.”

“You actually believe all this? Dark magicians living in the bowels of a university?”

She raised a shoulder. “Who knows? One way to find out.”

I adjusted my clothing sack over my shoulder, reminding me my staff was back in my room. Some sense I should’ve brought it rose in my consciousness when I stared at the back of Johin’s head. Intuition.

Trust no one.

I sighed. We followed the same cobblestone walkway we’d used to travel from the temple to the first dormitories the day before.

“What if Roshan sees us?” Shabana asked as Johin reached for the door.

“She’s usually near the altar or counseling in the side rooms up front. The back room is barren.”

He twisted the curved handle, and I hoped it was locked. But he pulled open the door then gestured for us to enter first. When we did, we entered the rear room of the temple. It was like stepping inside a mountain, the walls and floors made entirely of stone.

“This way,” Johin said. “He pulled open an interior door on our left then proceeded down a set of dim stairs.

“It’s dark,” Elren said. “How are we supposed to see?”

“Just tread carefully. There are magic torches down here that stay lit all the time. It’s pretty interesting.”

A cold chill ran down my spine. The mere idea of magic fire lent credibility to his claims, but I reasoned the worry away. The faculty might have kept the torches lit, and what did he know?

I winked my eyes in succession.

Johin Tir

Level 5 Human

(No Class Selected)

Melee Power Rating: 8

Melee Defense Rating: 9

Ranged Power Rating: 4

Ranged Defense Rating: 1

Magic Power Rating: 5

Magic Resistance Rating: 4

Johin was a level higher than me, and I trusted him about as far as I could throw a saddle. A niggling little voice in my head told me to keep him where I could monitor his movements. In front of me.

Then there was the dark staircase. I brought up my mind window, reminded myself to call it an interface, then selected the spell tab. Inner Illumination was the lone entry, and I focused on it. Although I expected the winding stairs to burst into view like I stood beneath the sun, the effect was more akin to when I walked with the candle to the great room to meet Roshan.

Your Light Magic skill has reached rank 2.

A little icon next to the spell name popped up with a Tool Tip label when I focused on it. Then a feminine voice spoke in a monotone inside my head.

By using ambient light to enhance sight, Inner Illumination allows the caster to see in dark environments.

So, in a place lacking ambient light, I received less of an effect. That I could see the stairs as long as my gaze remained there was the good news. If I raised my head, a little circle of light followed my field of vision, as if I peered through a tight tunnel.

At the bottom of the curvy stair case, we came to a circular grate cut into the floor. Johin reached for the handle then heaved. The grate raised only a few inches before dropping. The sound echoed up the stairs. We all flinched.

Elren reached down to help. “Quiet, man. You’ll have the whole faculty on us.”

“This is a bad idea,” I muttered.

Johin smirked up at me as he gripped the handle with Elren. “Oh, don’t be such a weight. We’ll be fine.” He cocked his head toward Shabana. “Your friend’s taking it in stride, be more like her.”

I responded with a long diatribe flowing through my head, but I imprisoned it instead of letting it flow through my lips. Such language defied the goddess’s will.

The grate’s hinges squealed when they lifted it. Johin set his hands on his hips and gave me a curt nod, as if this was a fine accomplishment.

Yeah, you opened a grate. Fine, indeed. Oh, master, how you shine a beacon of the Light before us.

He gestured into the hole. “There’s a ladder. Have a climb.”

I shook my head. “No way. You first.”

He rolled his eyes. “Such bravery. What did you do before you came to the academy, anyway?”

“I worked our farm.”

“Ah, the second oldest profession in Enora.”

“Oh? And what’s the first?”

“Prostitution.”

As Johin started down, Elren chuckled. He threw me a silent expression of apology then followed. Shabana next. Then I turned, peered up the stairs, then back down at the hole.

I’m so going to regret this.

I kicked around for the ladder’s rung, and one of my sandals dropped free.

“Hey!” Johin yelled from below.

“Sorry!” But I wasn’t. At least it missed the other two.

About halfway down the tube, the light of my seeing spell bloomed brighter, then more when I reached the bottom. We stood in a curved brick hallway with torches on each side, spaced about twenty feet apart.

“See? Magic.” He pointed toward the floor. “You can leave your bags here.”

I’d do nothing of the kind. I flipped the escaped sandal with my big toe then slipped into it. A nearby torch cast its flickering light off the bricks.

Eternal Torch

This torch boasts a magic rune that allows it to burn constantly.

Type: One-handed weapon

Slot: Main hand

Quality: Common

Durability: 30 of 30

Damage: 1-4

Additional effect: Causes 1 point of additional fire damage per second for five seconds

Without thinking, I snagged the torch off the wall and gazed at its handle. I spied the ghost of a symbol with two lines down the middle and snaking curves intersecting to form an X across them. I focused there. The lines glowed brighter then dimmed again.

Rune of Immolation

Can be carved into an item to cast it in eternal flame

Works only on items of uncommon quality or below

Your skill is too low to carve this rune.

Requires: Rune Crafting rank 10

I focused hard, trying to memorize the shape for later use, then my interface produced a new message.

Do you wish to take a capture?

My head tilted. I thought, Yes.

Your capture has been saved to your notes tab.

When I focused on the Notes tab, a colorful representation of what I saw with my own eyes appeared. My jaw dropped.

“What are you doing?” Johin asked, looking back at me.

I handed the torch to Shabana. “Here.” I winked at her with the eye the other two couldn’t see.

She glanced at them, then took the torch. Although I knew the mishon could see in the dark, I doubted anyone who would call her a beast was so enlightened. Johin sent up various warnings gleaned from my father, and I wasn’t going to forget his face just to get along.

Trust no one.

I twisted my lips and gave an indiscernible nod. Maybe he’d see it from Solara’s kingdom. Perhaps I could carry him with me.

Johin’s tone bled impatience. “Come on, already. We’ll miss mealtime.”

The hallway wound left, then right. The persistent moisture of ages bloomed into a worsening stench the farther we walked. When I looked left and right at a crossway, I spied only stubby corridors with dead ends.

“If this place is what you say,” Elren asked, “who showed it to you?”

“None of your business.”

“Touchy.” Shabana peered around then echoed my internal sentiments. “This place is spooky.”

“Yeah,” Johin agreed. “It is.” I sensed none of his earlier bigotry in his tone. “Now, a little gift for you all.” He pointed toward the dead end on the right. “Stand where you are, and watch.” Johin strolled toward the wall then set his hand on the moist surface. “Focus right here. See if you can spy the edges of a door.”

The way we all leaned forward and squinted was comical. In my periphery, Shabana tilted her head to the side. Although I traced the area around his hand, I didn’t see any protruding edges and doubted his true purpose. Then a square area flashed yellow, and text flooded my screen.

Through your analysis of the environment, you have discovered the skill:

Locate Traps

You can now locate low-level traps.

There is no resource cost for this skill.

Your Locate Traps skill has reached rank 1.

“Neat!” I said.

“Right?” Johin’s smile was wide and unencumbered. I wished I could bring myself to smile at others with such confidence, and I had to admit the sight was welcome.

“So, it’s a trap? What will happen if we mess with it?”

“No, it’s just a hidden door. It confused me at first. Apparently, our interfaces treat traps and doors as the same.”

“It’s strange the goddess wouldn’t discern between the two.”

Johin shrugged. “Hidden is hidden, I suppose.”

That kind of made sense.

“Ooh!” Shabana threw up a hand. “I got it.”

“Congrats.” Johin accentuated the word with a friendly nod and smile. Then he turned his gaze on his friend. “Elren?” He traced the outer line with his finger, but Elren still didn’t see it. “It’s that low magic potential of yours, I’ll bet.”

“Forty-five is not low. Stop being a stump.”

Johin laughed. “Well, do you want to stand there until you get it or come back and practice later?”

Elren sighed. “My stomach is grumbling. We can go ahead.”

Johin pushed the secret door open, then we flooded through. We followed a long hallway until reaching another door of vertical wooden slats. When I focused on it, I spied the subtle imprint of a circular marking with lines squiggling through it.

Your Runecrafting skill is too low to read this rune.

Carvings covered its face, so I took a quick capture for later analysis. The door opened soundlessly as we pushed inside.

The room beyond was wider than I’d have guessed, and formed by five walls. A desk with a thin covering of dust sat at its center, and an empty bookcase that came up to my chest sat on the farthest wall. The place was otherwise empty.

But as I stepped toward the center of the room, a strange warmth flooded over me. The chilly air I’d ignored because of my persistent focus on both Johin and the environment suddenly dissipated, gathering my notice.

Shabana crossed her arms then rubbed her hands furiously across her shoulders. “Do you feel that? It’s cold, here.”

Cold?

Could an affinity for Shadow magic overwhelm the Light?

“That’s your Light affinity at work. The scryer who dwelled here left a mark on the place. That’s my guess, anyway.” Johin rubbed his own arms, then pointed at the desk. “I think this was his study or something.”

“Shabana,” Johin said, “Check this out.” He raised a finger toward the side of the door. The mishon and Elren followed.

I ran my finger across the dusty top of the desk, stared at the results on its tip, then looked up to find Johin holding a long iron key in his hand.

He flashed a crooked smile. “Let’s see how Miss High-Magic-Potential gets out of this one.”

Elren shoved Shabana through the door, then Johin followed.

The door slammed shut as I rounded the desk and headed for them.

When I got there, I grasped the handle. Yanked. It gave for a moment then slammed shut again. There was a resounding click, followed by laughter from the other side.

I fumed and banged the door. “This is not funny!”

The laughter grew louder, then trailed off, as if they were walking away. Would they really leave me here? Shabana?

As I pressed my ear to the door, I heard the low clicking I’d noticed in the mishon’s throat when she chuckled.

She was laughing with them.

“Don’t miss the midday meal!” Johin heckled through his chuckles. “We wouldn’t want you to go hungry, farm girl!”

A moment later, I heard the heavy hidden door at the opposite end of the hall slam shut. My fingernails dug into my palms when I clenched my fists in frustration. I kicked the door so hard, the big toe on that foot throbbed. No matter how I tugged at the handle—and screamed at it—the door wouldn’t budge.

Trust no one.

“Shut up!” I bellowed at the dusty room. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut your stupid—”

My heart’s rhythm quickened. The room tilted. I pressed my palm to my chest and backpedaled to the desk to lean there and catch my breath. Deep gulps of the musty air did nothing to relieve the thumping in my temples, dizziness in my head, fury heating my neck.

“You treacherous girl,” I muttered. The boys were strangers, and I’d known not to trust Johin well enough that I’d kept him in front of me the whole time. That Elren would betray me after putting forth such an amenable facade revealed a dark side of his soul that might even have rivaled the disposition of his friend. But Shabana?

No way could I have seen this coming. Of all the dirty, no good, rotten….

I pivoted and slammed the meaty sides of my fists on the desk. It was heavy and didn’t rattle or budge. A metal bookstand I hadn’t noticed before stood against the left wall, and in my fury, I lifted it, drew back, and whipped it around in a wide arc to slam it through squared panels that lined all sides.

Your Melee Attack skill has reached rank 2.

“Gah! Screw you!” Wood splintered, then motes of dust floated to the floor when the end designed to hold a book became lodged in the panel. No matter how I jerked and twisted, it wouldn’t come free for the follow up attack I intended. So, I let go, set my hands on my hips, and huffed short breaths as I stared at the gap.

My thoughts shifted to the frail boy’s warning after Constitution class. Although Harbon’s sentiments about Johin proved out, his instincts about trusting Shabana missed the mark.

A wave of heat warmed my sandaled feet then shot up my legs. It split into two waves then coursed up either side of my torso until it streamed through my arms and up my neck. My face burned, and droplets of sweat formed on my forehead. The world turned pink, then red.

No. Not again.

I squeezed my eyes shut then drew a deep breath. When I realized my fists were clenched, I relaxed them and expanded my lungs with a deeper intake of the stagnant air.

The stand’s weight brought it rattling to the floor. I jumped, but the heat dissipated as my eyes shot open. Something caught my attention in the recess beyond the splintery gash where the stand’s top had penetrated.

What is that?

After a moment’s hesitation, the world righted itself. The color in my field of vision withdrew. When I was sure the vertigo had passed, I drew closer to peer through the gap. Thanks to my seeing spell, the space on the other side of the jagged slit wasn’t pitch black as it otherwise would’ve been.

I reached inside, ran my fingers down the patterned surface, grasped the object, then withdrew it. The green leather was smooth. When I blew the cover, a thin cloud of dust erupted into the air. Ornate indentations in its face formed a circle with horizontal lines crossing it. I took a capture, set the tablet atop the desk, then reached inside the gap again.

When I ran my fingers along the inside, they touched more leather, then more. But I couldn’t reach far enough to gauge just how many books were in there because of the narrowness of the slit. So, I ran my fingers along the edges of the panels, but to no avail.

When a better idea formed, I stopped. Stepped back. Squinted and gazed at the wall. My rage forgotten, my focus intense, I stood so still, my knees tingled for lack of circulation. Then, a golden glow surrounded three panels.

Your Locate Traps skill has reached rank 2.

“At least I got something for this mess.” A square section on the right side of the farthest panel from the door glowed brighter than the rest, so I reached inside then squeezed. There was a loud click. Out of pure luck, I recalled the name of the skill was Locate Traps—key word being traps—and I jumped to the side just in time.

With a whoosh, something ejected from beside the panel then shot across the room. Long, needle-like projectiles lodged into the far wall, then wispy green tendrils of smoke rose from them. I backed into the farthest corner and focused on their silver shafts.

Poison Needle

Level 5

Type: Trap Projectile

Damage: 15-45

Added Effect: 15 Poison damage per second, per successful needle penetration, for one minute

The smoke dissipated in a few heartbeats, but my mind had turned to the math. If one needle had slipped into my skin and caused only the minimum 15 points of damage, the added effect would’ve caused a total of 915 damage over one minute. Since my first Constitution point provided 80 hit points, and each addition added 8, my total score of 18 allotted me a total of 216 HP. Which meant I’d have been dead in under 15 seconds. Even less if I’d been struck by all the needles.

Thank goodness you taught me numbers, Baba. Now I have a whole new way to be horrified.

A quick glance at my health meter verified the math.

Snakes of trepidation slithered down my back, then an unexpected surge of excitement rushed through me. “Whew! I could be dead!” I scanned the wall for more traps, but didn’t spot any.

Still, I double- then triple-checked the wall, taking a few minutes before gaining the reasonable amount of certainty there were no other threats. But I dropped to my knees and reached up, just to be sure.

When I slid the panel on the right, it overlapped with the closest on the left, then those two over lapped with a third. Behind them sat long rows of unfinished wooden shelves filled with leather-bound tomes.

Did these belong to the scryer? Or was the lore just a lie to lure me down here?

I tugged one of the thicker tomes free and tested its weight in both hands. Like the previous book, burned-in impressions formed a unique pattern in its face. The quality of the bindings made me wonder if the occupant of this place—whether a scryer or an instructor in the university seeking privacy—had bound them.

When I set my palm against the runes, I noticed their warmth. Although I fingered the edges, a nervous ping inside my head kept me from opening the tome. I dropped it atop the first one I’d withdrawn, then turned my attention back to the shelves. When I’d emptied them and stacked the books with every edge perfectly aligned, they reached as high as my chest. Then I turned my attention to the panels on the opposite wall.

Your Locate Traps skill has reached rank 3.

When I approached this time, I eyed the corners of the square on the right before touching the panel. A glance across the room revealed the needles ejection points through holes surrounding the latch. But the occupant had to access the panels, so how had that person opened them without triggering it?

I walked along the length of the three panels on the new wall, tapping at random. The glowing square representing the trap was the only one like it, so I reasoned it was probably safe to test the surface, as long as I stayed clear of the needle ejection points. But by the time I reached the other side, I discovered nothing. I dipped to my knees again, set a palm on the third panel at the opposite end from the trap, then pushed.

Another audible click. This time, a low rumble accompanied the sound. The panel slid to the right on its own, overlapped the next, then the two overlapped the one with the trap.

“So, that’s how you did it. Anyone reaching for the latch would be annihilated, but you could release the mechanism with a simple push. Tricky devil, weren’t you?”

My chin dropped when I peered inside the recess. Leather tubes stacked high along the shelves. I grabbed one, pulled off its hard cap, then shook loose a scroll. As I gently unrolled it, I barely touched the surface. My excitement returned until I spied the writing inside. Jagged lines, strange shapes, nothing legible.

“Just my luck.” I rolled up the scroll then shoved it back in the tube.

When I’d finally gathered the courage, I picked up the thinnest of the books then dropped it on the reading stand. The leather binding creaked when I eased it back. Light bloomed from the pages, casting a glow across my face.

16

More strange symbols greeted me when I gathered the courage to step toward the light beaming from the pages. With a tentative hand, I turned a page to reveal more of the same. I set my hands on my hips and looked around the room.

The empty bookcase told a story, but I wasn’t certain what that was. Perhaps the new administrators of the academy had cleared the shelves. The way the dust settled thicker to form little rectangles of cleaner wood meant someone had removed them. But hadn’t I heard some of the old teachers had taken to a caravan and headed south? Maybe they took those books with them.

I might never know. But whoever had cleared the place out had missed the motherlode. Now, if only I could read any of it.

I balanced the scrolls in the recesses between stacked books until I’d formed a pyramid higher than my head, then I stood near the door and appreciated my work. My voice bounced off the walls of the narrow space as I considered a quandary.

“I’ve cut a hole in the wall. Anyone else who comes here will find all this if I don’t hide it. There isn’t enough room in the other compartment for all of it. Besides, the revelation of an open hole in one side would tell someone with even the simplest of minds there is a matching compartment on the other.”

I tapped my chin with a finger then turned my eyes toward the bag into which I’d stuffed my robe. After changing out of the exercise clothes we’d been provided by Master Renard, I pulled on the heavier garment. Then I rolled the thinner attire I’d removed and stuffed it into the bottom of the bag. This left three-quarters of the space in there for a couple tomes and a few scrolls.

As a nice little side effect, my mind cleared a bit when the Intelligence boost from the robe took effect. At least I knew it wasn’t purely a casting stat.

But one problem loomed larger than smuggling contraband out of this place. I was still trapped. Somehow, I doubted someone possessing all this knowledge would be stone-headed enough to leave only one route out of this room. If they were here in secret, it wouldn’t do to have someone with a high Discover Traps rank to saunter by and discover them.

Then again, if what Johin said was true and this person had the power to see people far away, wouldn’t he or she possess the magic to dispose of intruders?

Still, I thought it’d be worth my time to search. When I did, I was quickly rewarded. Another yellow rectangle glowed behind the empty book shelf. When I slid the shelf aside, I spied a section of square stone about half the size of my foot beneath. After one final analysis of the wall to ensure I didn’t spot any traps, I stepped on the stone, then jumped to the side.

Rumbles reverberated inside the wall, then a section popped out of place, revealing a recess. When I pushed it, a narrow corridor with no torches to light the way was revealed. Luckily, I didn’t need torches.

One problem possibly solved, I turned back to the stack of tomes and scrolls. The clock on my interface revealed only a few minutes had passed since I entered, and I was left feeling like I’d entered some kind of hole in time.

They’d serve the midday meal for two hours, then Light students would be free to do as they wished with the remainder of the day. Although I wasn’t exactly time-constricted, I’d wanted to go to Looli’s and start work. But such a discovery was worth a change of objectives. The pretty fruit vendor in Warrington wasn’t expecting me until later in the afternoon, anyway.

So, I started popping the caps off the scrolls. There had to be something legible, and if there wasn’t, then I’d stack them on the floor and start plowing through the tomes. My goal wasn’t to start reading, but to find anything legible and ensure I took it with me. If I had to leave the masses behind, I’d at least take something useful to my dorm.

Things got a little complicated when I opened the fifth scroll tube and discovered a miracle. First, my interface flashed a message.

Scroll of Runic Enlightenment

Readers of this scroll written in Common will gain the ability to read ancient elven runic text.

In addition, the reader will learn the language:

Elven

Brilliant bursts of excitement radiated throughout my limbs and torso, creeping all the way to my toes. I dropped the scroll onto the pile then pumped my arms and legs furiously as I turned in a circle. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” I pumped my fist in victory. “Yes!”

You have been offered a quest.

Knowledge is Power

Read ‘On the Art of Enlightenment, Part I.’

Rewards:

1,000 XP

Discovery of the Rune Crafting skill, if it hasn’t been discovered.

(You have already discovered this skill)

Ten points will be added to your Rune Crafting skill.

You will understand a new language:

Elven

I’d have never imagined I’d be so grateful for the treachery of others. At the same time, I fumed when I imagined Shabana’s joyous face cackling while she left me here to rot. Even though I hadn’t been inside for an hour, the fact she didn’t return burned my bottom. I forced the anger away and set my eyes on the scroll so the excitement could prevail.

On the Art of Enlightenment, Part I

In the time of the fall of Ancient Ninn, the queen bound herself to a Shénhuà. She then commanded her people to gather their belongings and form a caravan to the north. By her decree, they would follow the Shénhuà into the wilderness and seek out a place to build a new home in the forests of Seran, like their forebears had done a millennium before.

But soon after they’d discovered a new home, the many Shénhuà who’d spent such a short time among the citizens disappeared from Rubal.

The elves would leave the woes of man and demon alike in their wake, but Queen Simansia ordered magical scrolls forged and carried into the blighted lands upon which Ninn once stood. These scrolls were the keys to unlocking her race’s language and magic. One day, the prophecy would be fulfilled and the Shénhuà would return to the world. This body of work was for any Shénhuà who, through combat, proved worthy of this knowledge.

By the grace of Solara, any who read aloud the lines below will gain the gift of the runes.

I recalled the words of Master Renard from class earlier that day.

“Good tidings to you, first class of Warrington Academy. My name is Joren Renard, servant of the Queen Simansia, and your instructor for Constitutional Development.”

If the Plague Barrens had been around for two millennia, as my texts taught me, how could my professor be a servant of the same queen? She’d have to be so old. There was no shortage of lore in my personal library about the longevity of elven lives, but two thousand years?

The current queen must be named for her forebear. That’s all.

With a quick nod, I dismissed the thought and returned my focus to the scroll. My eyes swept over the text once, then I read it aloud.

“By the grace of the queen do I call down the spirits of the elven ancestors so they might bless me with enlightenment. May I forever use my skills in the pursuit of justice and love for all races. May I forever use my power to enhance others who seek the same. And may the Light forever reign in Enora.”

A golden flash surrounded me.

You have completed a quest.

Knowledge is Power

You read ‘On the Art of Enlightenment, Part I.’

Rewards:

1,000 XP

Your Runecrafting skill has reached level 11.

You have learned the following runes:

Ka

A lightning- powered base rune combined with higher runes to create electrical energy

Gi

An earth-powered base rune that tightens the weaves of fabrics to increase durability

Ye

A wind-powered rune used with higher runes to enhance weaponry with stun effects

Bo

An earth powered rune used with higher runes to enhance wooden objects

Ra

A fire-powered rune combined with higher runes to enhance weaponry

You have learned a new language!

Elven

Congratulations!

You have reached level 5!

Since you have not chosen a class, your attribute points are assigned to Constitution.

+ 2 Constitution

You are awarded one elective attribute point.

You have four elective points to spend.

You must visit an attributes trainer to spend these points.

A twinge of fear slipped past my excitement when it occurred that the masters or another student would be able to see I’d gained a level. How would I explain this? What excuse would I make?

How would my father look upon the fact my first inclination is to lie to cover my deceit?

But my father wasn’t there. I was alone in the world, a fact Shabana’s betrayal emphasized. If I wanted to honor my father’s memory, I would take the advice that proved prophetic.

Trust no one.

I scrolled down my Attributes tab with a thought.

Contessa of Millbury

Level 5 Human

(No Class Selected)

Attributes:

Strength: 13

Dexterity: 3

Intelligence: 7 (1)

Wisdom: 4 (2)

Constitution: 20

Charisma: 6

Combat Skills:

Melee Attack: 2

Weapon Skills:

Staff: 9

Occupational Skills:

Augmentation: 1

Carpentry: 6

Rune Crafting: 11

General Skills:

Survival: 4

Locate Traps: 3

Magic Schools:

Light Magic: 2

Shadow Magic: 0

Nature Magic: 0

Status Effects:

Resist Magic Attacks: 5

Resist Charm Effects: 10

Affinities

Languages:

All Neutral and Lawful

Learned Languages:

Common

Elven

Magic Affinities:

Potential: 100%

Light: 25%

Shadow: 91%

I noted how the Intelligence and Wisdom attributes reflected buffs from my clothes. The Light Magic gains had been from casting Inner Illumination, which made me wonder if I ended and cast the spell over and over, if I might gain more. On the notes tab, I added an entry to try it that night in my dorm room. For now, I had more pressing business.

The stacks of tomes sat there, and I bristled with anticipation of what boons they might hold. But I’d have to be careful. If I received more quests and completed them, I could very well level again, and the last thing I needed was the suspicion of my peers or the faculty.

This is wrong. You should report these things to Roshan. She’ll know what to do.

A voice rang out in my head.

And you will gain nothing for your efforts.

The thought’s timbre was droll, monotone. Neither male nor female. That I detected these attributes gave me a nagging suspicion it wasn’t my own mind and was the same voice that told me to sweep Shabana’s legs during combat. Whatever it was—

The goddess, speaking to me?

—I agreed with its sentiment. Now, I had to decide what to do with all this content. Skimming through the volumes might reveal my best move.

The thin text I’d set upon the bookstand still glowed. When I approached and leaned over it, the light cast onto my hands and shirt.

All I saw were unfamiliar symbols.

You must achieve rank 15 in Runecrafting to read this text.

I flipped the book closed, snuffing out the Light. Then I set it on the low book shelf next to the hidden door in the wall so I wouldn’t get it mixed up with the ones I hadn’t explored. When I returned to the table, I opted for a scroll and unrolled it without returning to the bookstand.

Scroll of Strength

Type: Magic Scroll

Permanently adds one Strength to your attributes.

Note: The scroll will be consumed by use.

Although I didn’t interpret the runes into familiar words, the simple act of scanning them accomplished my goal.

You have gained +1 Strength

A surge of energy pushed through my arms and legs, and I sensed my muscles tensing. Then they relaxed. The scroll dissolved in my fingers sending motes of dust drifting to the floor like ashes. I scrolled back up the Attributes Pane.

Strength: 14

“This is amazing.” I eyed the bounty of scrolls and tomes sitting atop the table. “What am I going to do with all this?”

Now that I knew what a scroll could do for me, I rifled through the tomes to assess their value. I grabbed a thicker volume then dropped it on the bookstand. When I flipped it open, more purple light shone from its pages. Little ripples of energy waved across the runes each time I turned a page, but I still couldn’t read it. When I stopped turning pages and stared at the runes, the lines of a triangle unlocked, spread into curves, and formed letters. Then the next symbols, then the entire rest of the page. I clenched my fists with joy then flipped back to the first page. A note in the same runes was written in the margins of the first page. When I stared long enough, it unwound into text.

Acolyte Shertan,

In these pages, you will find an introductory treatment of the scrying art. My notes are in the margins. Unlike the other texts, this was not retrieved from the Plague Barrens. Its roots are in Shadow Magic, like many of the other tomes. I encourage you to study this intently.

Währsager Jakkar

Währsager. A title with which I was unfamiliar. Was this Jakkar the scryer? Shertan his student? I wondered if the university kept records of the students from before, and if I might learn more about this Shertan. Had he studied at the old university?

I turned the page. It read like a cooking recipe, except it described hand motions. I curved my palm toward the ceiling as the first page instructed.

Now mouth the following words in silence:

Nustra Rominy Netaru

When I did as ordered, energy surged from my wrist to the tip of my fingers. A white ball of light formed inches above the lines in my palm, then morphed into purple. Little black tendrils of energy swept around the sphere. My chin dropped.

When your affinity allows, these words ignite the base Shadow energy required to form spell chains and eventually provide you with The Sight. With practice and dedication, the distance scried will increase, and you will be able to home in on those with powerful magic essences.

I flipped the tome over then scanned the cover. Triangular and circular runes covered the leather face. To transfer it into my interface’s library, I’d need to set my hands on the front and rear cover, close my eyes, then focus until it transferred. Even though it would be consumed in the process, I’d be given exclusive access to the magic that might help me hunt down my father’s killer and the destroyer of our home. If I’d ever reclaim our farm, I would need to protect it, which meant I needed to grow in power, join forces with who I could convince to help me in my hunt, then exact Solara’s revenge on the dark creatures whose existences offended us both.

Talk about delusions of grandeur.

But when I eyed the tome again, my hands shook violently then sweat broke out on my forehead. To toy with such powers might prove my undoing. But my interface seemed to understand my initial intent and responded.

This tome is protected by an advanced rune that prevents it from being transferred to a user’s personal library.

A loud, heavy thud resounded from beyond the door. I hustled over then pressed my ear to it. Footsteps. I wheeled, ran around the desk, and shoved my back against it. Although I pushed with all the strength I could muster from my arms and legs, I couldn’t get it to budge at first. Then, finally, it gave. It squeaked against the floor as instant beads of sweat appeared on my forehead.

“Tess?” the voice came from a distance, probably halfway down the corridor outside.

Shabana. Traitor.

“It’s me. I got the key from him. I can let you out.”

“Go away!” I snarled. Then I went to work shoving the table again.

“Please don’t be angry, Tess. I didn’t mean to—”

I stopped shoving and took a deep breath to disguise my labor. “You didn’t mean to? Your laughter indicated otherwise.” I planted my heels and shoved the desk toward the door. Only another foot or so.

The key rattled against the outside of the lock. I ground my back teeth together and bore down. It was all I could do not to growl with the effort. But the desk thumped into place just as the lock clicked. The door notched open half an inch then slammed again.

“Tess? Let me in. I’m sorry. Come on. There’s still time for the midday meal.”

In truth, my anger weighed the least when compared to my desire to hide what I’d found, so I projected as much vitriol as I could muster. I wanted it all for myself, as horrible as it sounded in my own head. “I’m not eating with you. Go away.”

A long period of silence ensued, then something scratched the floor as it popped under the crack in the door then slid to a stop next to me. The key.

“There. Now, you can make sure he doesn’t do it to anyone else. He’s a bastard. I’m sorry, Tess. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Although her treachery might have turned out to be a blessing, it didn’t change my glimpse into her character. Her ability to pivot on a pebble to get along. Sure, Shabana came back, apologized, and even gave me the key. And there was no telling what she went through to wrestle that from Johin. But in the wake of the last two days’ events, I wasn’t feeling charitable at the moment.

I sat still as a stone until the sound of her sandals clapped away on the stone floors of the corridor. When the hidden door at the opposite end banged closed, I jumped up and scanned the contents stacked atop the tables.

Now that Shabana showed up, time was an adversary. Although the secret door behind the short bookcase might give me cover to escape with some materials in hand, I didn’t know where that corridor led. The excitement of moments before transitioned into a burning anxiety. What if they find all this? What will they do with it? How fast could I grow if I used it?

Questions flooded my mind as to the origins of all these tomes and scrolls. Every fool in Rubal with a parent to spin the tale knew about the ancient elven city of Ninn. It’d become blighted when an archmage read a tome and unleashed demons from the depths of the underworld on the continent. If the Scroll of Runic Enlightenment read true, then these tomes might well have come from the blighted lands where the queen had them planted—the region north of Trowlsby and Warrington where demons and giant creatures of lore reined.

The Plague Barrens.

Johin said the residents of the town felt a dark weight lift when this scryer disappeared. I stared at the tomes with fresh perspective and wondered about the evil being who must have owned them.

Will using them make me evil?

No. What a ridiculous thought. Evil was a choice, and I’d seen it up close just days before. But if I would enact revenge on the demon hordes who burned our home to the ground and the dark one who’d murdered my father, then perhaps I should be ready to play the game like they did.

No rules. No constraints. If I could gain an advantage via these tools right at the beginning of my time at the academy, I needed to keep them safe.

I measured the hole I’d created with the bookstand and cursed myself. But what was done, was done. The secret hallway waited, my bag had room, and I needed a plan. I might hide some tomes in my room. Perhaps in my dresser or under the bed. But they’d be heavy, and I might not have the benefit of time on my side. If Shabana went to Roshan to report her disappointing behavior, I’d have new arrivals before I could blink twice.

The scrolls were light and took up the least space. So I stuffed as many as I could fit in the bag without drawing attention. It wouldn’t do to have a bunch of corners punching through the homespun material. I’d stuff a couple in there, set the scroll containers vertically around the outside edge to hide the book corners, and If time permitted, I’d return for the rest.

With the desk planted firmly against the door, I exited through the secret passage behind the bookshelf. The corridor’s narrow walls shrank in on me as I rounded a curve. I skidded to a halt.

A dead end.

Well, I’d seen that trick before. I squinted, focused. Nothing happened. The bag filled with exercise clothes, a single tome, and scrolls leaned nicely against the wall so I could bunch up my fists and focus. A familiar yellow glow cut a rectangle into the wall.

Your Locate Traps skill has reached rank 4.

Well, praise Solara! I snatched up the bag and tested its weave against the weight. A scroll tumbled to the floor. My heart thumped as I imagined what might happen if I carelessly dumped one in the hallway outside my dorm, or in the student library, or somewhere in-between for prying eyes to see.

Be careful.

I set my hand against a brick that glowed bright. Where the rest of the wall was flat, this one protruded. I pushed it, a clank sounded from inside, then the wall nudged outward on its own. My sandals clattered onto the moist floor outside before the door opened all the way. Then I shoved my back into it. It closed with a loud thunk! My head whipped in both directions as I scanned for anyone who might have heard.

Shabana should’ve been long gone by now. But if she was in the temple with Roshan, they could be waiting in the small back room when I pushed the door open. Maybe I imagined the worst scenario, but I had a sack full of what the instructors might see as contraband—or that they’d like to have for themselves.

Torches lined the hallway again, and quick analysis revealed they were the same magical ones we’d discovered on our way in. I closed my eyes, retraced our steps to the secret door leading into the scrier’s study, then my path to where I stood.

A full circle.

I sped up the corridor. When I arrived at the ladder, I stopped to stare up at the grate. My head whipped to the right, in the opposite direction from where we’d gone when we climbed down.

Where does that go?

I glanced up the ladder, then down the unexplored corridor, then back. Two minutes later, the corridor elevation increased, and I spied the kind of light that could only come from the afternoon star reflecting off the stony bricks around a curve. When I turned, my shoulders dropped.

Beyond the gate at the end of the circular corridor was freedom.

The vertical iron bars were aligned too close together for me to squeeze through. A tundra of grass to my waist stretched as far as I could see except for the foothills leading to the mountains to my left. I focused on the bars in hopes I’d find a hidden latch, but after ten minutes of squinting, nothing happened.

When I realized the sunlight was causing my head to thump, I disabled my Inner Illumination spell. That was much better. I made a mental note about how to avoid future headaches.

Just when I’d resigned myself to risking a trip through the temple, the wall to my left flashed.

Your Locate Traps skill has reached rank 5.

17

It seemed the Währsager had been dutiful about leaving himself escape routes. I pushed another protruding brick. The wall inched open a crack. I had to push with my shoulder to create a wide enough gap to get through, but once I was out, a short walkway took me directly to the outside.

The welcome scent of the fresh air brought a half-smile to my lips. I eyed the outer wall, thankful the northern side was higher than the eastern or western so no one in town would see me. But where was I going with this stuffed sack over my shoulder? And what if there were dangerous animals outside the walls? Now that I was outside, being without my staff was all the more disturbing.

I hustled along the wall, keeping close so I could at least call out if I ran into trouble. Whether anyone could hear me was a source of my conjecture, but better to seek safety than ignore it by walking into the open fields. The first rocky outcropping of a foothill stood about one hundred yards west, and I followed the wall until I reached it.

Loose stones covered the face of the hill, and I knew the footing would be perilous. So, I walked along the foot, keeping a constant eye over my shoulder to ensure I didn’t climb the terrain high enough to be seen from inside the town. After one such check, I spied a dip in the hillside. If I slipped in there, the outcropping would block me from view. But when I skittered over, I realized it wasn’t just an outcropping.

It was a cave.

I leaned into the shadows of the cave entrance, but the interior was gloomy. When I was sure the sun wasn’t beaming directly down on me, I cast Inner Illumination again. Even though the light bled into the cave, I wanted to ensure no snakes, rats, or other vermin snuck up on me.

A level floor of loose dirt scraped beneath my sandals as I eased inside. Although I imagined a bear or great cat residing in there, I detected no scent of droppings. A slight curve in the rear lead to a jagged wall in the back. In the corner, I spied a stone with a flat surface that curved upward. It was smooth and out of place compared to the jutting orangish rocks forming the walls.

I dropped my backside onto it and set the sack down. When I leaned, the curved recess made for a fine backrest.

Like it was meant to be.

The area behind the stone was hidden from view when I came around the curve. I studied the area then disabled my seeing spell. It was darker back there than the demon who’d killed my father. Before I knew it, I was on my hands and knees, digging away loose dirt. When I’d managed to go about a foot down, I checked my interface clock to find I’d burned an hour. Midday meal would be over, but that was okay. I could eat later.

I tucked the scrolls into the recess, set my rolled-up clothes from the bag onto the makeshift chair, then hustled out of the cave to search the surrounding area for loose stones. I shoved candidates into the stack, making sure not to let any corners tear my bag after my first day of classes, then stacked them atop the scrolls.

Fifteen minutes later, I was back in the Währsager’s study, stuffing scrolls into my bag. To my great relief, Shabana never showed up again, and by the time I’d made five trips to the cave, I was exhausted. I shoved the stones over a few tomes I’d brought to stack around the edge of my hole to form a kind of box that would protect the scrolls. For good measure, I smoothed dirt over the stones, then dusted my hands against the sitting rock.

With my rolled exercise clothes returned to the bag, I exited the cave. When I entered the corridor again, I closed the secret door next to the bars then hustled away. Looli Graples would be expecting me soon, and I didn’t want to disappoint her on my first day by showing up late. But I’d have to stop at my dorm room to drop off my bag and grab the staff I never planned to leave behind again.

I rounded the corner before the ladder then froze. A figure stood in the shadows. My throat closed up. My chest thumped hard. I cast Inner Illumination.

Johin’s treacherous face came into focus.

“Where’ve you been?” He glanced up the hallway over my shoulder.

I shook my head. “None of your business. You locked me down here.”

“It was just a joke. Don’t be such a sniveling child.”

“Sniv—” I clenched my fists, including the one that held my bag.

He stepped forward. “Look, I didn’t mean to get off on the wrong foot. And I understand if you don’t want to talk to me, but I’m going to need that key back.”

“Key?”

He squinted, then scowled. “Shabana said she gave you the key.”

I considered the remaining tomes stacked on the desk, the scrolls I’d yet to relocate to the cave. Not knowing how to keep him from all of it, I delayed.

“Where’d you get that key, anyway?”

“What difference does it make? It’s my key. Now hand it over, then you can go about your way.”

“Maybe the kid who showed you the room found the key. How do I know you didn’t steal it from him like the bully you are?”

He stepped close, stood at full height, then loomed over me. The scent of beef wafted from his mouth with each word. “If I take something, it’s mine. Sounds pretty simple to me. Now”—he shoved my shoulder with two fingers—”hand it over.”

I clenched my back teeth and growled through tight lips. “Don’t touch me.”

“Ha! What are you gonna do? Beat me up? Burn me where I stand, Miss Level Four?”

Not wanting to draw attention to the level I’d gained, I didn’t correct him. “I’m stronger than I look. Now, I couldn’t care less about your sense of entitlement or what kind of derelict father instilled it in you, but if you wanted the key back, you shouldn’t have locked me in that room.”

“The temperature bothered you, didn’t it?

“You could say that.“

“Too spooky for you?” He said with impudence.

“No one should go in there. That place is cast in darkness. It wouldn’t surprise me if it burned up peoples’ souls just by being there.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me, considering who occupied it. Now,” he flipped one set of fingers toward himself, “the key.”

“I tossed it.”

“What?”

“Outside. In the high grass. I threw it as hard as I could because I was mad.” I turned and waved a hand in the direction from which I’d come. “Feel free to go search, if you can get past the bars.”

One side of Johin’s upper lip twitched.

“Oh, you didn’t go that way? Yeah, there are iron bars. Maybe you could slip out of town and search, but I’m afraid I couldn’t guess as to which direction I actually threw it.” I stomped past him.

His sandals clacked the floor in time with mine. I’d only gone a few paces when he jerked me backward by my robe. His hands zipped in blurry motions when he wheeled me around, grabbed my shoulders, then started patting my garment. He tapped the pockets for the key I’d buried with the scrolls and tomes. “You hide it in your underthings?”

His hand slipped between my breasts then nudged one. I slapped his arms away, then he formed claws with his hands and grasped for my robe. I slipped to the side to evade his grasp.

Your Dodge skill has reached rank 2.

1% chance to dodge enemies of an equal or higher level

Before I knew what was happening, I balled up my fist, drew back, then punched him square in his nose. Something cracked.

His arms flailed as he tumbled backward then landed hard. My chin dropped when I saw a gash spewing forth crimson life force.

You attack Johin Tir.

Johin

-9 HP

-1 HP (bleed)

-1 HP (bleed)

You have learned the Unarmed Combat skill.

Your Unarmed skill has reached rank 1.

Your Melee Attack skill is has reached rank 3.

You have learned the Counterpunch skill.

Your Counterpunch skill has reached rank 1.

Your Unarmed skill has reached rank 2.

Your Melee Defense skill has reached rank 4.

I cast off the battle messages, turned, then hurried down the corridor. Although I expected he’d be right on my heels, I didn’t hear any pursuit sounds, and I wasn’t about to slow my pace with a look back. As I climbed the ladder, I maintained a death grip on my bag, but when I reached the top, the grate overhead wouldn’t budge. I planted my feet on the same wrung, set both hands on it, then shoved.

The sounds of pattering sandals echoed from below. Johin was running now, and he’d be upon me in moments.

He appeared below then cast a glare up the tube. “You punched me!”

“You touched me without my leave!”

“I’m going to throw you off that ladder, you b—”

The metal grate overhead clanked open, framing Shabana’s puffy cheeks and wide eyes. She dropped a hand down, and despite an initial reservation, I grasped it. She pulled my body up and through with strength I hadn’t expected. As she set me down, she glared down the tube.

Johin’s bloody face emerged from the shadows.

I slammed the grate then shoved a finger against Shabana’s chest. “You want forgiveness? Then earn my trust. Sit on that grate for five minutes to give me a head start.”

She eyed the grate, turned her gaze on me, then nodded. “Go. I don’t like him, anyway.” As I turned for the stairs, she grabbed my arm. “Watch your back.”

I sped out the back door of the chapel then along the cobblestones to the side door of the narrower dormitory. Cutting through the library in my sweaty state was less than ideal, but it would take longer to wrap around the buildings to enter through the back.

If Roshan or another master found out what transpired between Johin and me, it could spell disaster. Leira’s warning about violence against other students had been clear. On the other hand, the guy I’d punched in the nose might not want people to know. He was a prideful wretch, after all. Maybe if I disappeared for a while, things would calm down.

But I knew I’d better take Shabana’s advice.

Watch your back.

For good measure, I watched my front, as well. Elren Xen might pop up at any moment, and unlike Shabana, his participation in the lockdown had been active. He’s shoved her into the hallway ahead of him before they’d locked the door.

I thought he might be more dangerous than Johin.

As I crossed the library, I glanced at the tomes on the high shelves. They reminded me of those I’d sequestered outside Warrington, and I realized I longed for the warmth I’d sensed when surrounded by them. After climbing the spiral staircase closest to the door then rushing down the upstairs walkway by the rail, I burst into my room.

A stack of folded clothing rested on the bed. I tilted my head when I approached them. A maroon long-sleeved shirt with a high neck sat on top of the pile, and a pair of black woven pants beneath. They fit perfectly, just like my workout clothes. Beside them on the bed was a note scribbled in Common.

Dear Contessa, welcome to the academy. May the Light guide you through your studies and into the world beyond. Love, Roshan.

A tear welled in one eye, not just because the kind gesture touched me, but because I’d already let down the priestess who’d trusted me enough to bring me here, even if she didn’t know it. As I was betrayed by my classmates, I’d betrayed the servant of the Light by violating the rule against violence on my first day. Part of me wanted to run to the temple, tell her everything that happened, and absolve myself of the sudden weight on my chest, but attacking another student would most certainly get me expelled.

I’d rather face the likelihood that Johin would exact his revenge than be cast into the wilds alone. The former prospect, I could deal with. The latter would be a devastating.

After a trip to the shared lavatory to clean my hands, feet, and face, I donned the new outfit then fled the academy.

18

Looli stood in the same place I’d found her the previous night. Some lug with wide shoulders and a cleft chin stood on the other side of the plank of wood serving as her presentation table. He raised a hand, palm up, and leaned over it as he spoke.

“And if you see fit, I wouldn’t mind another walk around the thoroughfare, maybe a little dinner?”

“Mindrel, you never quit. Now, shoo. My new girl is here, and I don’t have time for your silliness. Shoo! Get!”

The man chuckled and paced away. “Ya can’t blame a guy for trying, can ya?”

“I don’t blame you for trying, I blame you for not knowing when to quit.” She chuckled then turned the resulting smile toward me. The way it accentuated her high cheekbones and shining eyes, I understood why the stranger had been flirting. Of course, I’d never been flirted with, so what did I really know?

“Hi.” I gave a little wave.

“Ah, my favorite magician in all the lands. Nice duds. Good fit on your figure. New?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “You ready to learn how to roll some foodstuffs?”

I might have grinned at the warm greeting if not for the lingering trepidation over events beneath the academy.

“Duck under or come around the rear. You don’t strike me as someone who’s afraid to bend her back, but it’s up to you.” She turned toward the front door then climbed the steps.

After slipping under the plank, I followed her.

Looli led me down a narrow hallway, devoid of adornments of any kind, into a compact kitchen in the back. Jars filled with fruits of various colors lined a wide table, taking up a third of the space. Little finger bowls filled with different powders lined the edge closest to me. The scents of cinnamon, oregano, basil and other spices created a pleasant cumulative aroma. Looli pulled out a chair then swept a hand toward it. Once I was seated, she dragged over a jar, spun off the lid, then withdrew a peach.

I gazed at the jar in wonderment.

She smiled. “You’re wondering how I afforded to have glass blown into jars. My father had the jars made long ago in Trowlsby. We’ve been in business for years and have always been profitable. And because Hokrahm has reared his head in Rubal again, adventurers have appeared en masse. Now, we’re tripling our income.” She shook a finger, but did so with a gentle smile. “I might order more, but we’ve managed never to break one, so don’t ruin our record.”

I nodded. “I’ll take the utmost care.”

“Good. I’m sure you will.” She selected a tool from the table. “This is the paring knife. If you hold it like this and use your thumb to twist the fruit, you can peel a peach in one long strip. Watch.” She demonstrated, impressing me with her easy, practiced motions. Her thumb steadied her hand when she pulled the blade toward it. Then she twisted the fruit with the other hand to continue the peeling, but the motion came quick and smooth. When finished, she raised the long peel then lay it across a block of flat, sanded wood atop the table.

She grabbed another knife to slice the fruit into slivers. At the end of that process, she dropped the pit into a can next to the table. “You see how I cut the fruit really thin? If you don’t do that, it won’t roll easily.” She set each piece of fruit in a neat row along the length of the moist inner side of the peel. “After you’ve laid out the fruit, cut the peel every four pieces.” She threw a glance over one shoulder to face the entry hallway, then returned her focus to the work. She explained how every four pieces, I should leave a little extra peel to attach to the other side when I roll them up. I’d then stuff the fruit into the jar so each piece was flush with the others to hold their form.

Looli held up one of the finished wraps. “Now, that’s a peach wrap. We put them in a jar, let them sit for a day, then sell them.”

“Why do you wait instead of selling them fresh?”

“They’re sweeter when you let them sit. I don’t know why, but they are. Now, let me show you how to make the deer wraps. They’re a little more complicated and require some cooking. Oh!” She raised a finger. “Here, I’ve noted the recipes you can use today. You wouldn’t share them with anyone, would ya?” She swept a hand in the air without waiting for an answer, then my interface switched to the Notes Tab. Text filled the screen.

Venison Wrap

1/2 handful long grain rice

One pinch oregano

One pinch cilantro

One grape leaf

One pinch of salt

One strip of cooked venison

Effect: + 3 Constitution

Duration: 4 hours

Peach Wrap

Peach peel

Peach (pitted), flesh sliced thin

Can and wait 24 hours.

Effect: +40 maximum mana

Duration: 1 hour

Apple Wrap

Apple Peel

Apple (cored), flesh sliced thin

One pinch of Cinnamon

Effect: +40 Maximum health

Can and wait 24 hours.

Duration: 1 Hour

Melon Berry

Carve slit in one side of large berry x 20.

Squeeze juice into container.

Soak fifty uncut berries in juice for 24 hours.

Drain.

Dry for 1 hour.

Effect: +3 Intelligence

Duration: 1 hour

The interface switched to the Occupational Skills Tab as soon as I finished reading the recipes.

You have learned a new skill!

Cooking

Because of your previous experience, you’ve been granted ten Cooking skill points.

Your cooking skill has reached rank 11.

Congratulations!

Your Cooking skill has reached the Apprentice rank.

You have learned the following recipes:

Venison Wrap

Peach Wrap

Apple Wrap

Melon Berry

I focused on the title. A tooltip overlaid the Notes Tab in a separate window.

Occupation Skill Ranks

Beginner: Levels 1-10

Apprentice: Levels 11-20

Adept: Levels 21-30

Journeyman: Levels 31-40

Expert: Levels 41-50

Master: 51-60

Grand Master: 61+

When she was finished with my training, she wiped her hands clean then turned toward the hallway. “There’re little buggers out there on the street who won’t hesitate to take a sweetie for themselves, so I’m going to get back to the front. You have time to fill twenty jars or so?”

I nodded.

“Any questions?”

“I just wonder why you offered me a job when you’d just met me.”

Looli set her fists on her hips and met my gaze. “I don’t know. There’s something about the way you carry yourself. If you think it was just some kind of sympathy thing, don’t let your pride obstruct your success.”

The way she used her words led me to think the mayor had focused on her education as a child. I didn’t think that was commonplace in smaller towns like Warrington, but what did I know? After all, if there was a university here, maybe knowledge trickled into the population. My own father managed to teach me for two hours a day, five of the seven days a week, until I turned twelve. My lessons included Rubal’s history as he knew it, reading, writing, and articulation. If he made the time when he was busy farming and hunting, why couldn’t the people of Warrington?

The knowledge seeker in me longed to know. But I had my own studies to worry about, and a job to hold down, as well.

“Thank you, Looli. For having me.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Just try not to eat too much of the product, eh? I’ll feed you when the work’s done, if it pleases ya. I don’t know how that food is at the academy, but I guarantee you’ll like mine. Who knows, you might even meet the mayor—if he doesn’t end up dining with that harlot he’s taken up with across town.” She grabbed a rag from a polished wooden countertop, dropped it on the table, then tapped a finger bowl filled with water. “Keep your fingers clean when switching between recipes so you don’t mix flavors.”

No stranger to a knife, I snatched it up then peeled a peach. Although I lacked Looli’s agility, I managed to peel it into two strips. When I set the fourth peach wrap into the jar, I received a system message.

Your Cooking skill has reached rank 12.

I didn’t know how a Cooking skill might benefit me in my new life, but I figured it couldn’t hurt. Although we didn’t discuss compensation, I was thankful for the respite from the academy dorms. For all I knew, the professors scurried around the halls in search of me, looking to enforce regulations about striking another student. I might be cast out on Warrington’s dirt roads when I returned.

The errant thoughts about my fate caused my focus to wane and I managed to cut a slit in my index finger.

You cut yourself.

-2 HP

-1 HP (bleed)

I cursed loudly, then footsteps creaked on loose floorboards in the hallway. Looli Graples called out before she appeared. “That sounded like someone cut themselves.”

“I did. Gah.” A stream of blood rolled down my finger.

-1 HP (bleed)

By my count, I was losing a hit point every three seconds. No big deal.

Looli strode into the room, grabbed my wrist and turned the hand over. “Oh, I’ve done worse.” A glance at her hands revealed no scarring evidence to support the statement. “Do you have healing magic?”

I shook my head. “Just a seeing spell, so far.”

She opened a free-standing cabinet. The hinges squeaked. “Seeing? Like, you can see in the dark?”

I nodded before realizing she couldn’t see the motion with her back turned toward me. “Yes.”

Looli turned and shook a spindle of wide, porous cloth. “Here.” She ripped off a piece then dabbed away the blood. “Clean slice. You’ll be good in a spit.” From the other side of the cabinet, she selected a vial. “I don’t have a surplus of these things, so let’s try not to cover your hand in gashes, yeah?”

I nodded.

“Good.” She shoved the vial toward me. “A sip should do it. You can keep the rest in case you slip again.”

I eyed the vial first.

Minor Health Potion

Restores 1 HP per second for 30 seconds

I sipped the liquid. It had a thick, wild-berry finish.

You sip Minor Health potion.

Restores 1 HP per second for 5 seconds.

Since I’d only sipped the potion, the returns were diminished. Since this was the first time I’d actually used one, that was good to know. If I survived the penalties at the academy, I might end up in combat someday, and it’d be good to know how to preserve my potions.

The wound sealed itself, then I wiped away a remaining trickle of blood. Good as new. When I glanced up to thank Looli, her arms crossed beneath her bosom and her head was tilted just a bit to one side. “There’s something going on.”

“What do you mean?” Had my worries about Johin and the instructors shown on my features?

“You seem a bit twisted up. You want to talk about it?”

I shook my head without thinking. “I wouldn’t trouble you.”

Looli slid a chair to the opposite side of the table then glanced up the hallway toward her front stoop. I realized she was keeping an eye out for customers. And thieves. “It’s no trouble to me. No one out front, and I have nowhere to be.”

I came out with it. “I punched a student in the nose.”

“Boy or girl?”

“Does it matter?”

She nodded. “In my experience, the boy often deserves a good punch in the nose. A girl punching another girl can go either way.”

“It was a boy. A young man, really.”

“Your age?”

I nodded.

“Good, a fair fight then. Did he deserve it?”

I considered the question. Without leave to lay his hands on my person, even less swipe against parts of me no one else had ever touched… “You know, I think he did earn a good punch in the nose. He was putting his hands on me.”

“Did the nose bleed?”

“Profusely.”

Looli glanced down the hall. “Customer.” She slid the chair under the table, stepped toward the hallway, stopped short, then turned. “You know, if he deserved it, then you probably taught him a lesson he won’t soon forget. If I’m reading you right, you’re worried about what others will think, and I know you didn’t ask my advice—”

“I welcome your advice. Anything to get these thoughts out of my head.”

“If he touched you in a way you didn’t desire, then you have as much cause against him as he does against you. I would deign to say you have more cause. You defended yourself.” She leaned forward. “And good on you for it! Tell that to your faculty if they come calling.”

She winked before setting off down the hall. “I’m coming.” Her voice trailed off. “Hi, hi there…”

Although I’d already suspected my disposition, I decided I really liked Looli Graples. It seemed I might have one person in the world I could trust.

Maybe.

19

By the time I finished up at Looli’s, I had a shiny silver coin in my pocket and my Cooking rank had increased to 16. Not bad for a couple hours’ work! But as I viewed the high spires of the academy in the distance, my lungs deflated. Despite my employer’s encouraging words and the logic supporting them, the usually-positive frame of mind for which my father had often complimented me had fallen by the wayside.

And with good reason.

But when I reached the guards at the main academy gate, I raised my chin, strolled by like I belonged there, then made a beeline for the dorm. I counted myself lucky I’d shared a noodle soup with Looli before setting out, so I wouldn’t have to suffer hunger pangs as I lounged in my dorm until the knock I dreaded came at my door.

I lit the wick of the candle rod with a torch in the hallway, opened my dormitory room, then lit the candles in the chandelier hanging in the center of the space.

The knock came one minute after I returned the rod and closed my door. Shivers of dread coursed through my body. As a final thought, I slid the key to the Währsager’s study under my dresser, where it clanked against the wall.

When the door swung wide, Shabana stood in the opening. Although she’d betrayed me, the sight of her face brought relief. If nothing else, maybe I could garner a report as to the state of things. I pulled the door wide and gestured for her to enter.

She eyed the bed, After I nodded, she sat on its edge. Her hands dropped to her lap and she twiddled her fingers. “What I did today was wrong. In my efforts to make friends and get along, I betrayed the one friend I should’ve cared about.” Her gaze remained pinned to her knees. “When I heard what happened after I slid you the key, I was horrified.” Her chin came up. “Were you hurt?”

I shook my head. “No, but he was.”

“Yes, I know.”

“How did you find out?” I kept my tone level, non-committal. The mishon wasn’t off the hook, yet. I still needed to draw her in on my line, like fish from the lake near the farm.

“He came looking for you. He banged on your door so the whole hall heard.”

“Was he a bloody mess?”

She nodded. “Only his clothing. Must have been a real gusher.”

“But his face was clean?”

Shabana nodded. “Someone must have healed him. That or he had a potion.”

“What did he want?”

“The key. I’d promised only to borrow it to release you. He expected to have it back. Of course, I didn’t care.”

“And you think that proves your loyalty? That you came around in the end?”

Her head dropped again. “Not in the least. To tell the truth, I’m surprised you let me in.”

My shoulders hunched. “I let you in because I need to know if I’m being expelled.”

“Oh.” She nodded. “That makes sense. I probably wouldn’t have let a traitor inside, either.” She stood and trudged toward the door.

“You’re leaving?”

She turned and pressed her back to the wall. “Yes. I should give you time to reflect. I haven’t earned your trust, and I regret it. I don’t expect forgiveness because my people taught me better, and never have I had occasion to act so poorly. Not even as a child. I deserve whatever punishment the goddess deems necessary to correct my ill-rendered decisions.” When she raised her head again, I saw the beginnings of liquid pooling in one eye.

She was making it really hard to stay mad at her with this display of repentance.

“If it helps you rest easy, I’ve heard nothing from the other students about your conflict below, and only learned of it when I came into the hallway while Johin was here. He turned his rage on me but dared not act on it. I don’t know who else heard, but it is the first day of classes, and I doubt the students in this dorm will want to get involved.”

“I hope you’re right. But it still leaves me the problems of Johin and Elren.”

“Elren.” She feigned spitting on the floor. “Even worse than the first. What the master at the foundation calls a confidence man. He postures and presents an easy face to adore, then shows his serpent’s stripes when it suits his nefarious purpose.”

At least we agreed, there.

“Whether or not I earn back your friendship, you should know I will pray to the goddess, and with every opportunity presented, I will watch your hind quarters for threats from these man-boys. If you face them in a dark corner, you will not face them alone.” She cocked her head toward my staff in the corner. “Since we attend Constitution class each of the five days during the week, you’re expected to carry your weapon. Keep it close. Although I doubt Johin will be so brazen as to attack you and risk expulsion with his father’s reputation in jeopardy, I wouldn’t let my attention veer far from Elren should you catch sight of him.” She bowed so deep, I saw the backs of the ears that rested atop her head. Then she stood erect. “May you forever be contented in the Light.”

Shabana slipped out the door then latched it behind. I snatched my staff and set it against the wall next to my bed. Then I retrieved the key, tucked it inside a peach wrap Looli’d been kind enough to gift me, then slipped the wrapping in the back of my bottom drawer.

The drawer shut with a bang I hadn’t intended. I shot up, my back straight, then stared at the door.

You’re being paranoid.

“Shut up,” I muttered to myself. Minutes passed while I paced there, fretting like a mischievous child awaiting her scolding. The twin moons had risen and cast their lights onto the field out the window. But my gaze wandered past them, to the wall of stone bricks north of the academy. It was too early to sleep, the goddess’s star only an hour past the horizon, and a new thought arose from the silence.

No one would see you coming or going. No chance you’d be spotted if you moved the rest of the tomes and scrolls tonight.

Maybe the honorable thing to do was report my findings to the academy. I could go to Magister Leira or Master Roshan with what I’d found. But I remembered the dusty shelf fronting the secret door in what I’d come to think of as the Währsager’s study and drew the conclusion they’d already cleaned the place of the documents they’d known about. What would they do with the ones I’d found? What about the scrolls?

A voice rang out in my head. Neither male or female. Droll in tone.

How will you avenge your father if you give up these sources of power? I am with you, Tess, and I forbid it.

I should’ve been horrified at the voice’s new proclamation. It confirmed it didn’t resonate from my own thoughts. Maybe it proved my father and our farm weren’t the only things of value I’d lost. Perhaps my mind’s total collapse into insanity wasn’t far behind.

If I spent half the night moving the tomes, I’d answer for it in an exhausted state the following morning. My gaze fell away from the moonlit night as I considered another possibility.

I could scan the readable tomes and add them to my interface library.

Although I’d read some books my father brought back from trades with the people of Gynas Peaks, most of my knowledge came from tomes he transferred to my mind window’s library. Just because the runes printed in one or two books wouldn’t transfer didn’t mean they all wouldn’t. If I was going to haul anything through the high grass of the northern fields, the scrolls needed to be protected. The idea I could learn abilities from them, bide my time, avoid notice, and advance faster than those around me to abbreviate my hunt for the demon murderer and destroyer of my home…

The one tome with the scryer’s notes in the margins jumped to the front of my mind. It promised a sufficiently advanced magician the ability to seek out others. If that included demons, it could serve my long-term purpose. I’d already moved that one to the cave, where it would be safe. But what other treasures in the study might need protecting? Did the Währsager leave behind more advanced books on the method? More tomes with runes preventing transfer to my interface?

I needed to find out. The realization helped a plan form. Those that could be transferred to my library would be. Then I’d move the rest. But first, I needed to scan them all to find out which I could read, then prioritize moving those I couldn’t transfer.

But the scrolls will give direct power boosts. Those must be the top priority.

On the one hand, I could use the scrolls as I ranked up. On the other, my skill in rune crafting would eventually grant me the ability to read the books whose pages appeared as runic scribbles. Scrolls, direct magic enhancement. Books, long-term knowledge that could enhance my power.

Then again, half the tomes could be historical in nature. The scrolls planted by the elven queen for the worthy—whoever that was—to find some day had undoubtedly been swept away by the dark being who once resided beneath the academy then hidden from those who might use them for the Light’s purpose. Only this theory made sense.

After all, in such a devilish place as the Plague Barrens, Darkness prevailed. And I’d have wagered if this Währsager could enter the blighted lands and recover them, he must have been a dark being, indeed.

But if the scrolls proved of elven construction, they would undoubtedly help me serve noble purposes. Perhaps I would prove to be worthy. I returned to the window as my plan formulated and solidified. From the second-story windows, the shadowy forms of the rocky foothills on the other side of the wall crept skyward. I estimated the distance to the cave. If I waited just a couple hours, most students would be asleep, then I’d set out.

If the trouble nagging at the back of my mind came knocking at my door before I left, I’d deal with it then. To worry about what I couldn’t control hadn’t been my nature on the farm, and I saw no reason to torture myself. But I snuffed out the candles so the flickering light under my door wouldn’t unnecessarily invite visitors. With the bright lights of the moons flooding through my massive windows, I didn’t even need my seeing spell.

The larger white moon hovering in the sky captured my attention as I perched on the wide sill and waited for the clock to tick in my favor. Then my gaze shifted to the field.

Motion.

I leaned forward. Had someone been there?

Two orange embers appeared. When I squinted, I made out a figure. The embers glowed where his eyes should’ve been.

My heart jumped into my throat and raced madly. My chest hitched. My knees quivered. I cast my seeing spell, but by the time the world burst into simulated daylight, I already knew what I‘d see.

It was him. The obsidian-skinned demon with the same crystallized eyes who killed my father as his minions burned our farm around him.

I shook my head, blinked my eyes. But the demon still stood there, his chin cocked high, peering in my direction.

“You will die for what you did, evil one.”

The figure thrust its hands out to its sides. A violet glow swept from its shoulders, down its arms, then eventually bloomed around its hands.

Loose clumps of grass-topped soil popped into the air. Clawed hands reached up from the holes. When the orange-fleshed minions hauled themselves from the depths, my lip rose into a high sneer.

I snatched my staff then charged into the hallway without closing the door. When I took to the spiral staircase closest, my foot slipped, tweaking my ankle and sending a shock of pain up my leg.

You have twisted your ankle causing an injury.

Duration: 5 minutes.

I gave it preferential treatment the rest of my descent, and when I reached the floor, it took about half my weight without complaint. So I limped until I reached the outer doors of the library. They didn’t relent when I tried to barge through them, and I groaned. Flipping the latch on the lock, I burst into the night.

Your ankle injury is worsening due to activity.

Duration: 9 minutes

I sped across along the cobblestones the best I could.

“Contessa of Millbury!”

My shoulders jumped then locked themselves near the sides of my head. When I tried to stop, I planted the wrong foot then tumbled to the cobblestones. As I raised my head, I glared toward the center of the field.

Empty.

The figure who’d called out blocked the moon as she shuffled into view. I didn’t need to look up to identify her. The accent had given her away.

Roshan’s shadowy face peered down. “What in Solara’s world are you doing?” One hand shot toward me, and I flinched. Then the sides of her mouth twitched downward. Her next words came in a whisper as she drew the hand she’d offered as assistance away. She bent toward me and cupped her knees. “Tess. What is it?” I glared past her, into the field, and the priestess noticed. Her head swiveled, then she repeated herself. “What is it?”

I would never understand what brought the words from my lips, and they came without measurement. “The demon who killed my father.” I pushed myself up to my knees. “I saw him there.”

She wheeled around. “Where? I will summon the defenders.” She raised her hands.

A cold sensation washed over my body, and I shivered violently. My ankle twisted back into its proper seat with a sudden burst of pain, then the discomfort withdrew.

Roshan casts Flash Heal

Overheal!

+90 HP

Critical Bonus: +15 HP per second for fifteen seconds

Your injury has healed.

To wield such power!

“Tess?” Roshan grabbed one shoulder to yank me to my feet. “Where is this demon? We will see it vanquished.”

“You believe me?”

Her eyebrows knitted together and her forehead wrinkled. “Demons are not new to me, Tess. If you saw one, you saw one. Where?” She thrust the black, knotted staff in her hand toward the field. “There?”

I nodded. “He’s gone.”

“How do you know he was the same who killed your father?”

“Because he summoned low orange demons who burned our home to the ground. I would know them anywhere.”

“Are you cold?”

“No?” My confused response came more like a question.

“You shivered when I healed you.” One eyebrow dropped, but the other remained arched.

“It’s chilly out here, and I just saw a demon.”

How easily I lie.

The goddess frowns on your dishonesty with her faithful servant.

You have lost five Light Points.

Note: Your Light disposition affects how others feel when within your aura of influence.

Current disposition: Neutral

Current Rank:

Light: -5/-250

Next Threshold: Untrusted

Great. Just what I needed.

Roshan’s eyes jerked to the staff over my back. “I’ll call out the defenders to scour the campus. You should return to the dorm until we’ve cleared the area.”

“But…” I stopped myself, knowing my arguments to participate would gain no traction. But other options existed. “Could I go to the chapel?”

Roshan nodded. “A fine idea. No demon would dare violate the home of the goddess’s faithful.” She grasped my shoulder. “If this demon pursues you, we will see to its demise. You must have faith in us.”

Her response lent the sense the priestess saw a flicker in my expression, that she knew I wanted to help hunt the demon down but had given in. Maybe I’d shown her I wasn’t a petulant child, which could work in my favor.

Although it hadn’t been my plan when I rushed from my room moments before, I now had an excuse to get on with it. A pang of guilt about hiding my true intentions from the Priestess of the Light had its moment in my chest, but a deep breath relieved it enough for me to speak. “Thanks, Master Roshan. When I’m a higher level someday, I will defend the meek against demon kind.”

Roshan nodded. “Yes.” She clipped the word and shooed me. “Now, go.”

The door behind me slammed open, then four men in plate armor burst into view. They carried long pole arms with shining silvery axe blades backed by spikes. Roshan turned, waving the soldiers toward her. “In the field. Master During is on his way to aide us, but we shouldn’t wait.” The priestess pointed her staff the direction she wanted them to go, then fell in behind them. She raised the weapon, it glowed green, then semi-transparent bubbles engulfed the group.

My jaw dropped. I mentally captured the image of her, surrounded in protective magic, her robes sweeping the ground as if she floated.

I fast-walked toward the chapel. If I was quick enough, I could complete my task and be back before Roshan noticed I was gone.

20

I strained to haul the grate up then cast my Inner Illumination spell so I could find my footing on the ladder below. When I reached for the grate, I recalled my trouble raising it alone when Johin pursued after our altercation, then the way he’d struggled to lift it from above—which delighted me.

Weakling.

If I hurried, I could get my work done, hurry back, and wait in one of the pews for Roshan to return from her search of the campus. Although I doubted they’d find the demons I’d seen summoned from below the ground, the priestess’s demeanor and the way she hadn’t questioned my sighting of the evil minion of Hokrahm told me she’d scour the academy grounds before she relented.

Then you lied to her.

At least their hunt would buy me time.

At the bottom of the ladder, I peered in both directions then hustled to the right. The metal bars appeared only a minute later, which was quicker than I’d expected. Fast was good. It put the odds in my favor.

The secret door gave without sound or strain. The high grass rustled against my hips as I jogged doubled over to use it as cover. In a stroke of added luck, clouds covered the auras of both moons as I made my way toward the cave.

My fight with Johin loomed almost as prevalent in my mind as the presence of the demon and his minions. As short-term thinking went, my peer was the primary motivation for my journey. Any demon who bested my father would make short work of me, and even though increasing my power might someday aid in my revenge, I prioritized.

Johin’s entitled demeanor reminded me he came from the rich family of a high chancellor, and the conniving way his partner in crime, Elren, had lured me into his confidence, then betrayed me, seemed to indicate the same. I might not know which of them was the alpha hyena, but treating them with equal caution and disdain would suit.

Something rustled in the foliage to my left. My shoulders jerked. I dropped to my knees then scanned the area. The thin stalks of grass surrounding me leaned in a light wind, and I couldn’t tell if someone was sneaking around, following me. I closed my eyes, listened to the wind, then tuned it out to focus on any sounds beneath, but I heard nothing.

Did low demons scurry about? Waiting for them to pounce wasn’t wise. But running around defenseless was equally stupid. My staff slid from the sheath with some effort, and clutching it in my grasp did surprisingly little to assuage my fears. I was suddenly aware of the frigid breeze blowing through my hair, but I wouldn’t be standing around long enough to tie it off.

This was serious. While I could name every vermin or threat within a square mile of the farm where I grew up, this field could harbor dangers I hadn’t imagined. An unfamiliar variety of venomous snake. Tigers creeping low for squishy prey like me.

My back bent like before, I swung at the high weeds and ran as fast as my legs would carry me. Noises behind brought my head around every few seconds, and I even turned once or twice to make sure no one pursued. By Solara’s grace, I finally exited the high weeds at the clearing before the cave.

Its black mouth gaped like a great beast ready to swallow me despite the clarity lent by my seeing enhancement. A strange flicker of motion caught my eye, so I scurried to the left, coming around from the side of the cave. When I peeked around the corner of a rock jutting from the face of the hill, the strange distortion flickering on the wall was still there. Is that…?

I disabled my seeing spell. The scene burst into better light. Literally. A fire burned just around the corner of the cave. The way the rocky ceiling dipped low as it progressed toward the back allowed the smoke to drift out of the mouth, then up, where the breeze caught it and carried it away.

Who is burning a fire in my cave?

Visions of enflamed tomes and scrolls sent a silent shriek of horror through my head. I lurched forward then recalled my sentiments of moments before about unknown threats. One who could build a fire could prove every bit as perilous a challenge as a creature with claws and fangs.

After a few tentative steps inside, I peeked around the corner. My heart lurched and, when I skittered backward, I tripped over my own feet. When my backside hit the loose dirt of the cave floor, I counted myself lucky I’d had the wherewithal to maintain my grasp on the staff, even if my butt paid for it with a hard impact. Shocks of discomfort rattled up my spine from my tailbone as I waited for the hulking figure I’d just seen to appear.

When it didn’t, I gathered my breath, rose, then set myself against the wall. As I peeked around the corner this time, I winked my eyes in succession and reminded myself to do it more often. After all, familiarity with the world was prudent considering my proficiency for making enemies.

Rock Troll

Giant humanoids known for their strength, rock trolls are often used as slave labor in middle Rubal.

Level 14

(No Class Selected)

Melee Power Rating: 28

Melee Defense Rating: 32

Ranged Power Rating: 6

Ranged Defense Rating: 4

Magic Power Rating: 1

Magic Resistance Rating: 5

Although the muscular troll’s ratings suffered when compared to the ones I’d seen when I analyzed my father in his final moments, they dwarfed those of every student I’d analyzed at the academy. Johin Tir’s Melee Power Rating had only been 8. He was level 5. Shabana’s MPR was a tick higher at 10 even though she was one level lower. But this beast was level 14, and I didn’t want to learn from personal experience how his stats reflected its strength.

Although it sat on the very stone casting shadows over the spot where I’d buried all the scrolls and the few tomes I could read, there was no sign he’d discovered them. The only addition to the space was a long, wooden spear leaning against the side of his stone seat and a pair of ragged boots just inches from the fire. He peeled the skin off a bright orange piece of fruit then bit into the flesh beneath.

So much for retrieving the scrolls. If the troll was passing through, I’d retrieve them later. I’d seen no sign of a fire before, so that was likely. But if he’d found a new home, I had problems.

When I backed out of the cave, a rustling came from the rear. Then the wind blew into my ears so I couldn’t hear anything. There’d be no waiting around to see if he’d heard me. I sped toward the town wall, allowing the grass I’d missed with my twisting staff to slash across my face without care.

Motion from my right brought my head around, and with the clouds having retreated from the moons, I caught the sight of long, white fangs flying through the air toward me.

“No!” I brought my staff around in a wild swing. Matched with the reflexive dip of my waist to avoid the incoming attack, it whiffed the air. Paws slammed into me, driving me back. Two landed on my chest, forcing my breath through my mouth and into the wind. I heaved, but the weight threatened to suffocate me as the wide jaws of a beast snapped down at my face.

I didn’t know how I’d managed to get my staff under its neck, but my strained effort proved the lone thing between me and an early reunion with my father. My arms burned with resistance. My shoulders threatened to tear from their sockets under the weight. But I growled back at the beast and forced the staff up with all I had.

Plains Wolf

While most wolves travel in packs, Plains Wolves are a territorial and competitive breed that often end up going it alone.

Level 9 beast

Melee Power Rating: 17

Melee Defense Rating: 7

Ranged Power Rating: 1

Ranged Defense Rating: 1

Magic Power Rating: 1

Magic Resistance Rating: 1

My mouth gaped wide as a shrill scream ejected from my throat. The wolf jerked its head back then twisted sideways to escape the upward force of my weapon. I struggled to keep my staff under its neck.

The beast jumped to the side, lowered its head, then lunged toward the side of my face.

I pushed one end of the staff in its direction. A lucky strike caught it in its upper teeth.

You attack Plains Wolf.

Hit!

Plains Wolf

-8 HP

92% HP Remaining

Your melee attack skill has reached rank 4.

Your Staff skill has reached rank 10.

The wolf retreated but quickly recovered.

I rolled away then fumbled to my knees as it launched again. With renewed gusto, I swung the staff and imagined the scent of my own blood dribbling from the beast’s mouth.

You attack Plains Wolf.

Miss!

The momentum of my overswing caused me to tumble, and it was only by that stroke of luck the wolf sailed by. Stopping to look could’ve finished me, so I suppressed the urge and rolled to one side. In a second, I was back on my feet, whirling around to locate the threat.

The plains wolf hunched low.

I couldn’t hear over the breeze whipping the weeds, but the way it sneered, revealing its long white teeth in all their glory, it almost certainly growled.

Muscle memory made me pivot and present a smaller target as my father had taught me. The wolf jumped to one side then barked. The strange yip carrying over the wind sounded out of place from such a husky beast, but chills reverberated through my spine nonetheless.

This thing is going to kill you if you don’t get away.

“And run where?” I muttered to myself.

Although I’d had the wherewithal to carry my staff, I hadn’t brought the knife my father insisted I carry everywhere. I’d always thought of it as a tool to cut away the skin of animals we’d bested in the woods, not a weapon to bring them down. I didn’t want to fight close enough to use it, but if the wolf got me on my back again, I’d have wished I’d brought it.

Always carry your knife!

The wolf launched again. A white light created a momentary halo around its body. I twisted away, but its claw raked my shoulder at the last moment.

Plains Wolf uses Lunging Strike.

Hit!

- 54 HP

77% health remaining

-17 HP (Bleed)

71% health remaining

Hot hell raged through the muscle. Blood pooled inside the cloth. The hand attached to that arm trembled then lost its grip on the staff. The wolf seized the advantage, rushing in low and clamping down on one ankle. This time, its jaws flashed bright white light.

Plains Wolf uses Bite.

-10 HP

65% health remaining

I lost my footing and tumbled onto my back.

The animal clawed up my body until its yellow eyes glowed in the light of the moons just inches from mine. I struggled to yank my staff across my chest, but my injured arm and stony fingers wouldn’t cooperate.

The wolf’s jaws bore down and tore my robe where my shoulder bled. A horrifying explosion of pain shuddered up my neck and down my arm. One side of my torso went numb.

Plains Wolf attacks.

Critical Hit!

-98 HP

22% health remaining

-10 HP (Bleed)

My health meter flashed red, white, then red again.

Warning: You have dropped below 20% health.

The wolf spat a clump of meaty cloth, then lowered its head toward my chin. It growled low, and the pain tearing through my body caused me to invite the coming quiet of death. Anything to end that torment.

It turned its head sideways to get a good grasp on my throat but stopped inches short. The beast yelped then rose high as if a twister had lifted it. Two massive arms formed a V around the wolf, then the beast cut an arc through the air. It came down in a crunch of bones.

Unknown Rock Troll uses Backbreaker

Critical Hit!

Mortal Wound!

Plains Wolf

-92 HP

Plains Wolf has died.

You earn 137 XP for your contribution.

I coughed, rolled away, and somehow struggled to my feet. When I turned, the troll towered over me, grasping the wolf by its the scruff of its neck in one massive fist. My ankle gave, and I almost fell, then the troll reached his free hand toward me. Pain or no pain, I’d had enough. The cold wind on my face and the shrieking pain in my shoulder woke me from the acceptance of my demise moments earlier. Before I knew what was happening, I was limping furiously through the grass, my staff somehow clutched in the one hand that could grasp it, my eyes locked onto the wall of Warrington.

Although my vision was fuzzy with tears, I ventured a glance to find the giant hoisting the wolf onto its shoulder, following me only with its gaze.

-10 HP (Bleed)

18% health remaining.

The words rolled before my eyes in warning that my life would soon end, but I was no longer ready to accept that fate. The wolf had gotten the better of me, but the troll hadn’t pursued. My father’s words echoed on the wind.

“…find Dracin Welling. He will see to your training.”

I was already seeing to my training, Dracin Welling or not. More importantly, I was my father’s daughter, and I would not die out here in the cold just to have my bones stripped clean by wolves.

The hidden door resisted reentry, so I put my good shoulder into the exercise. When it gave, I tumbled inside. Repetitive lines of text stacked before my eyes when I rolled onto my back.

-10 HP (Bleed)

12 % health remaining

I rolled to my knees. The world gave a violent tilt. I toppled into the second door, then dropped my staff to grab its latch. When the weapon clattered to the floor, the sound was distant, as if it found its resting place across the room.

The door opened, I reached back for my staff then tried to rise. No matter how I grasped the wall to steady myself, I couldn’t find balance. My knees carried me through lost time, then I was at the foot of the ladder. But as I grasped the lowest rung from the floor, my strength was gone, and I knew my struggle was over.

-10 HP

9% health remaining

21

I blinked through the blur when motion at the top of the tube where I’d left the grate wide open snagged what little attention I had left.

A head. A person.

I threw up my arm, but only in my mind. It didn’t answer my call.

“Tess!” an accented voice echoed down the shaft. A shadow appeared above me, and a golden glow illuminated the face from the eastern continent of Lau as she sent cool waves of healing washing over my body.

“Roshan?”

The priestess scaled the ladder in two blinks then dropped next to me. She raised one hand to cast again. The world zoomed into focus as the second wave of coolness rolled over my flesh. As the pain subsided, consciousness fired up my mind.

Roshan stood with her hands on her hips, staring down at me. “Perhaps you’d like to tell me what you’re doing down here.” She glanced down the corridor in the opposite direction from which I’d come, and something in the twisted expression when she returned her gaze to me made me wish I’d just died.

She grabbed the collar of my robe, turned, then dragged me with her.

“Roshan.”

“Stop talking, you stupid girl.”

She yanked me forward when my pace slowed. We reached the crossway in the tunnel, and she turned toward the secret door as if she’d been there a thousand times. At the dead end, she pushed through the wall like it wasn’t there. But when we reached the door at the other end of the hallway, it refused to give. She turned and thrust out a hand. “Give it to me.”

“Give what?”

The lids of one eye squinted so it almost closed. “You deny you have a key?”

“I don’t have a key.”

The goddess is displeased at your deception.

You have lost five Light Points.

Note: Your Light disposition affects how others feel when within your aura of influence.

Current disposition: Neutral

Current Rank:

Light: -10/-250

Next Threshold: Untrusted

Roshan stepped back. “Raise your arms for inspection.” Recollections of Johin putting his hands where they didn’t belong sent a wave of repulsion over me, then I shook my head and stepped back. “Don’t touch me!”

The priestess jerked at the outburst, and I expected she’d respond in kind, but then her features relaxed. She slipped one foot backward a step, then the other. “Have you ever been inside this room, Contessa?”

My full name on her lips brought my father’s face to the canvas of my mind. Although her face had softened, I detected a trap. Yes, I knew very well what lay on the other side of that door. But if she didn’t know about the secret entrance on the other side, then she might not be able to access it without the key. Maybe I could sneak in for the remaining tomes later, whisk them away—

Idiot. There’s a troll in the cave. Where are you going to whisk them to? Oh, and there’s that other thing. You know, that the academy is filled with magicians who are entirely capable of opening a door.

“I have been inside.”

“I only discovered you because I assumed you would be foolhardy enough to leave the chapel. I never imagined you would come here, of all places.” Roshan paced up the corridor, away from the door. This time, she didn’t drag me along.

I glanced at the door, at her back, then followed.

Roshan led me in silence until we reached the ladder, then she climbed without looking back. Halfway up, I wondered if she’d close the grate and be done with me. But she stepped up, turned, stooped, then offered a hand. After just a moment’s hesitation, I grasped it. She tugged gently until I stood upright above.

The priestess set her forefinger and thumb beneath my chin and leaned close. “Did you feel a chill when you entered that room?”

Hadn’t Shabana, Johin, and Elren each sensed a chill, where I sensed warmth? Had my suspicions that my Shadow affinity caused the sensation been correct? Would revealing that now reveal my deception in choosing the School of Light and further cause Roshan not to trust me?

Well, you haven’t trusted her. You haven’t trusted anyone. You’ve let a dead man’s voice dictate—

My inner voice stopped abruptly as I coughed a sob. Tears filled my eyes as images of my dying father, my struggle in the snow, Shabana’s betrayal, the fight with Johin, all came flooding in. Roshan dropped her hand from my chin, then wrapped both arms around me. She gave no quarter to my initial resistance, so my face rested on the shoulder of her smooth silk robe.

She patted my back. “I sense the Light in you, Tess, but it is not so strong as your classmates. You might think your deception goes undetected, but I sense the other, as well. However, you chose the Light School of Magic, so you must grow if you are ever to know when you stand amongst evil. When you do, places like that will send you scurrying from danger.” She squeezed harder. “Do you understand?”

I nodded against Roshan’s shoulder as the tears soaked into her robe.

Before I could ask why she’d hidden her knowledge about my Shadow affinity, the priestess pushed me back and thumbed the tears away from my face. “What attacked you? Was it another student? Johin perhaps?”

I shook my head. “No.” But the question made me wonder if she knew about the earlier altercation. Shabana’s description of Johin’s blood-covered clothes but clean face and how she’d said someone must have healed him… might Roshan have been the healer?

One pencil-thin eyebrow arched. “Well?”

I thought about the scrolls hidden in the cave. Even if I never made sense of the tomes I’d stashed there, the scrolls would help me advance. When I reached high enough level, I could read more. My father had implored me to find Dracin Welling, and I’d be good-and-damned if I would deny the final wish of the man who’d raised me and died for me by giving up the edge that would help me survive until I fulfilled it. If I answered her question, she’d know I was outside. “I didn’t see it. What attacked me. I didn’t see it.”

I waited for another message to alert me to the loss of more Light points, but none came this time. What was different about one lie compared to another?

Roshan lowered her gaze to my robe. “And yet the front of your robe is torn at the shoulder, as if something bit you there. I wonder why it ended its attack.” She stepped out of the small room with the grate then turned toward the chapel. “Get back to your room. Tomorrow is a two-class day, and you’ll want to be rested for your Constitution training.” She stopped, then turned back. “I’m certain Looli Graples wouldn’t want you showing up for your job unable to work for your fluttering eyelids.”

The priestess gave off the impression she was floating again as she entered the temple. She slammed the door behind her.

I’d walked away virtually unscathed, and I still hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her the whole truth. Not what I’d taken from the room, nothing. But if she’d found out I was working in town, I had no doubt I was underestimating Roshan, Clan Fortwan. That she’d brought up Johin’s name was further evidence she knew things. But how?

Johin didn’t strike me as the kind to confide in the resident priestess, but how many times had my father warned me that people filled with religious fervor did crazy things? Maybe he’d been raised in a more pious home than I, but when considering my lack of exposure to the world now sweeping me up, I had nothing to compare. Piety might motivate everyone surrounding me, and whether I liked him or not, Johin was a student of the Light School.

I shook my head. No. No way. Johin was a scythe waiting to slice the head off the first to cross him. He was worthy of the most critical eye, and I would keep mine upon him.

I pushed through the back door, then my sandals clapped on the cobblestones. The field in the distance was empty of demons and other beings, but I still saw the glowing embers of my father’s murderer’s eyes shining bright as they had when viewed from the windows of my dorm.

“I will burn you into oblivion if the deed is my last, demon.”

Just for good measure, I checked over each shoulder. Then a chill siphoned through my spine.

As I faced front again, a voice crept to me in the darkness. “There’s the tough girl.”

“Gah!” I slapped a hand to my chest. The outline of a figure lurked in the shadows at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the door. I squinted, then renewed my Inner Illumination spell.

Johin’s features became clear. I started for the stairs.

“I’m not going to chase you. But you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

I stopped with my hand on the door latch. “Will I?”

He set the flat of one foot against the wall and gazed straight ahead in the direction of the field. “I’ll keep it simple for you. If you give me back the key, I’ll keep your conduct violation to myself. And you won’t have any more trouble from Elren and me.”

“And yet you already told Roshan. She healed you.”

Although I’d rolled the dice about my earlier theory, Johin didn’t lend the pleasure of a reply. A single index finger shot up, but he still didn’t look at me. “This is a one-time opportunity. The owner of that key is going to come for it, and when I tell him you stole it… well, he might just decide it’s not worth the risk, having so many people who know about that room. So, you choose. Give me the key or face your maker.”

“But I didn’t steal it.” I sounded like a petulant child. I needed to stop doing that.

“He won’t know that.” He finally turned and craned his neck to peer up at me. “I can suffer your little moment of victory without being driven by revenge. But I can’t tolerate your disrespect.”

The nerve! “My disrespect?” I shoved a finger to my chest. “My disrespect?”

He nodded curtly. “You refused to return the key when asked. Maybe if you truly understood who my father was, you wouldn’t have behaved so and we wouldn’t have had this problem. But it’s too late to worry about that little detail. Give me the key, and all is forgotten.”

Entitled, no-good, dirty little f—

Then the twit held his hand out, palm up. He cocked an eyebrow for good measure. I could handle shoeing a horse whose instincts might bring it to kick me in the head. Bailing hay until my back throbbed? No problem. Sitting in the barn, knowing how much work there is to do but facing a torrential downpour barely made its mark on my patience.

But in that moment, standing on those stairs, I realized there was a single thing beneath Solara’s heavenly gaze I could not tolerate, and that was a bully. I’d have sooner taken the beating of my life than to give that buffoon anything.

I leaned over the edge of the stairs from above and cast a stony gaze. “I threw your key into the field outside the walls. If you want it, go find it.”

Again, I watched for system messages about the lie, but none came.

“Oh, and one small thing. If you ever come near me again, I’m going to beat you a lot worse. And expulsion be damned next time you make me lay my hands on you.”

That brought his head around. His stony expression faltered, but then he returned to his distant gaze, facing front. “You push too far.”

I marched up the narrow dormitory and into the library. The pace of my hard soles drew glances from the few sitting at the long tables as well as from a woman with long gray hair running her fingers along the bindings of one of the stacked shelves in the rear. But the figure who drew my attention sat behind the desk in the center. When his head came up, we made the briefest eye contact. In that short moment, his eyes winked, then flashed red.

What is that?

A strange, warm burst of energy ran from the base of my neck to the bottom of my spine. When I risked a second glance over my shoulder, I found the man had risen and set his hands on the desk. He glared as if I’d offended in the worst of ways.

I shoved through the door to the second dormitories then mounted the spiral stairs leading to my room. When I arrived, Shabana’s door opened. I never heard a latch and assumed she’d been listening for me.

“Tess?”

In the wake of the interactions with Johin and the man in the library, I found the strange resonance of her mishon accent comforting, if only for its familiarity. My shoulders dropped. “Yes, Shabana.”

“Someone has cut my bed into shreds and strewn about the stuffing.”

My eyelids narrowed and my lips pinched into a wrinkly O as if I’d tasted something sour. “You jest.”

When she didn’t answer, I turned to find her shaking her head.

“Our first day, Shabana.” I flipped my hands over. “Our first day!”

“I know. And I’m sorry—”

I raised two fingers mashed together and they darted toward her. “No. Don’t apologize again. Especially not over someone shredding your bed. Have you reported this?”

She shook her head again. “It’s late, and…” Her chin dropped to her chest, then her shoulders followed suit.

My head lolled backward, and I rolled my eyes. “Gads! Come on, Shabana. You can sleep with me.”

Her shoulders rose and she drew in her hands.

“Clap your hands and I’ll leave you out here in the hall.”

She froze, then dropped her arms. “Right.” A curt nod followed.

* * *

Mishon ran warm. While having a body next to me in bed waylaid some of my anxiety over the day’s events, I kept having to kick the wool blanket off until the sweat evaporated and I was cold again. Wake hot, return to slumber freezing. Sleep came a few hours before dawn, then I rose to rustling sounds.

Shabana wore a fresh outfit, and her sandals straps were wrapped to her ankles. One end of her staff rose over her right shoulder. “Good morning.”

“Mah…” I rolled away and yanked the blanket over my head.

She shook my hip.

“No. Go away.” My eyelids glued themselves shut.

“Class in twenty. I let you sleep, but it’s time to get up. You’re already missing morning meal.”

I whipped the blanket down and shot halfway up. Hair hung in front of my eyes. Though my window faced northish, the morning light was bright, and I blinked against the harsh glare. “Fine.”

The events of the night before streamed through my mind. Johin’s shadowed face outside the dorms—he’d waited for me there even though he couldn’t have known I’d be coming. The strange man with the shining bald head surrounded by a U of wiry gray hair. Then Roshan and the array of emotions expressed in her words and facial contortions as the untruths flowed from my lips.

You are digging holes all around you, girl. Keep it up, and you’re bound to fall into one. How many people would you have shovel the dirt over you?

Shabana stepped into the hallway while I dressed and tied my hair back into a pony tail. With those bits of business done, I turned my gaze to the dresser. I retrieved the key then slipped it into the pocket of my exercise clothes, which I planned to wear until I could mend the tear in my robe. I needed to save the outfit Roshan had gifted me for work with Looli.

We descended the spiral staircase—my steps proved timid when compared to the agile mishon’s—then strolled toward our classes. Shabana had chosen Weaving for her elective class, and I’d decided on Carpentry for Combatants. All the elective classes were held in the same building, so we’d get our first look at the students who practiced Shadow Magic. The idea of seeing them for the first time elicited a pulsing excitement in my temples. It faded when we crossed a side hallway and I spied the man from the library the night before—the one whose eyes had flashed red as he scowled.

My stride faltered, and Shabana followed my gaze to the hallway. The man wore a flowing black robe that shone in the skylight. He spoke with a much shorter woman whose hair was pulled into a bun, but his body blocked her face from view. When he turned and spotted us, I saw it was Magister Leira to whom he spoke. She flashed a smile, and I forced one in return, but my attention quickly returned to the balding man.

His intense stare bore into me.

I hurried toward my class, away from his weighty gaze.

“Who is that talking to Magister Leira?” I asked Shabana.

“You really should make a habit of analyzing people. I think he’s an instructor in the Shadow School. The black robe is a dead giveaway.”

“Yes, that and the way his eyes flash red when he analyzes me.”

“Do they? Hmm. I don’t know about you, but some Shadow people give me the chills.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to go to deep into this topic with Shabana. She’d apologized, and on one level I understood why she’d done what she did in the scryer’s study. The need to belong when one felt alone in the world was a familiar sentiment.

Trust no one.

I cursed to myself. If I continued to trust no one, I would continue to have no allies. If my first day at the academy taught me anything, it was that I needed every friend I could get.

“Roshan gives me the impression that’s common among Light casters. As if they have some sense of the presence of Darkness.”

Shabana shook her head. “But I have it on good authority that Shadow magic does not equate to Darkness. The lady of the Fowler Borough is steeped in Shadow affinity.” The mishon tapped her lip. “Then again, she has a past in this university about which many secrets are kept. Maybe you know more than I, after all.”

“I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough, but I want to know why that man looks at me the way he does.”

Shabana stopped. “Wait. How many times have you caught him looking your way?”

“Just twice. Last night in the library, then a moment ago.”

“You’re beautiful, Tess. Wandering eyes should be nothing new to you.”

“I grew up on a farm.”

“Oh, right.” The mishon chuckled. “Either way, don’t be paranoid.”

“You’re probably right. I’d just had an unpleasant moment outside with Johin before I first saw that man, and it left me on edge.”

We stopped in a wide hallway. “My class is just here.” She cocked her head toward a door on the right.

I brought up my interface map of the academy. “Mine is at the end of the hall.”

“Fine. Here.”

A text window popped up in my interface.

Shabana has invited you to a party.

You have joined a party.

Shabana has joined a party.

“This will allow us to keep in touch, in case anything goes awry with Johin or Elren. Or Master what’s-his-name, for that matter. You can speak to me with your thoughts.”

“I know. My father and I shared a party chat, except when he went to trade and left the maximum range.”

“Someday you will experience a clan chat. There is no range, as I understand it. Can you imagine? You could talk to people across Enora.”

“The prospect baffles my mind.”

Shabana’s lips spread into a full, sharp-toothed smile. “Indeed.” Her eyes moved up and to the right. “Time for class. You don’t want to be late to the wood shop on your first day.”

I nodded my thanks then set off down the hallway, hoping upon hope neither troublesome boy had selected the same elective.

22

When I turned left to enter the woodworking space, I froze in the doorway. Unlike the classrooms with tiered seating, this was a sprawling space with huge work tables topped by thick, unpolished planks. The scents of various wood species filled my nose. In one corner of the room, a long table was stacked with sawed planks of wood ranging in color from the white pine to orange sandalwood.

A strange device of metal with a long rod sat with a perfectly rounded stone bigger than my head. I winked my eyes in succession to analyze it.

Standing Drill

Clamp wood on the base.

Crank the pedal to spin the rod.

Pull the handle to lower the weight of the stone onto the rod.

For larger or smaller diameters, release the pin and slide a rod of the desired circumference into the coupling.

Where the manual drill my father used on the farm had been a clumsy device with a U-shaped handle, the standing drill bordered on witchcraft. I’d lacked the context to even imagine such a contraption. Excitement surged in little pinpricks down my arms, and I longed to punch holes in things.

When a student, her hair pulled back into rows of perfect braids, slid by me in the doorway, I realized I was blocking the entry. Warmth flooded to my face as I hurried to the closest unoccupied table. Each was complimented by two chairs, and an equal number of hand axes sat atop them. I picked one up and tested its weight. A leather cover wrapped the blade with a strap that tied behind.

When all the students had arrived, I was surprised to find how few there were. Only one table had two occupants. I counted it as a change in my tidings when I saw neither Johin or Elren.

An elderly man in loose-fitting gray coveralls entered last through the same door.

“Welcome to Carpentry for Combatants. I’m Master Rollin Shimp.” He wove between the tables then stood in the center of the sprawling shop. “Those of you who are holding your axes may set them down so I have your full attention.” Axes rattled to the tables, some as if they been molten hot. When every axe settled, Master Rollin waited for each pair of eyes to fall on him before continuing. “This is an introductory class. If you have experience working with wood, you might be bored for a bit. The first two weeks will prove especially dull, as we will journey into the forest west of town and learn about the various trees and their usefulness for carpentry. You will use your axes to cut into them, half them, and believe it or not, cut planks from them.”

“Cut planks with an axe?” A boy on the opposite end of the room from me asked.

“That’s right, young man. By the time we’re finished with the first semester, you will command the use of a hand axe like others would wield a sword or mace. But you will also gain skill points in Botany, not just Carpentry. Since that skill compliments Alchemy, Cooking, and others, I find it a fine trade for your labor.” He paced up the aisle as he spoke, pivoted, then walked the other way. “In order to pass this class, you must gain twenty points in both”—he threw up two fingers for emphasis—”Botany and Carpentry.”

Shoulders dropped. Moans filled the room. The instructor stopped and folded his arms across his chest. “As luck would have it, classes in alchemy, herbalism, and culinary arts are in this same hall. If you’d like to swap your elective, now would be a good time for you to leave. But if you’re interested in learning what hundreds have paid me to teach them, stick around.” Master Rollin leaned against one of the tables. “Go ahead. Alchemy, anyone?”

No one moved, but the same student who’d complained earlier muttered just loud enough for all to hear, “Too bad they don’t have smithing here.”

“Ah, smithing,” our teacher said. “A fine family of crafts. Goldsmithing, blacksmithing… Why, if you want to take up plate and sword and fight on the front lines, you could travel to the far north and join the academy in the Templar’s Hall high in the mountains. Perhaps that would suit?”

The class chuckled. But I wondered what it must be like to train in cold metal in the northern snow.

“No?” He waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t suppose you would, considering your slight frame. Besides, all frontline heroism gets you is bruises, cuts, and perhaps an early grave. You all have shown the good judgment to use the mana pools Solara has blessed you with to stand in the rear and out of range of those nasty bears, tigers, wolves”—he cocked an eyebrow like he was loading a crossbow—”and demons. I commend you for it. Now! Grab your axes and follow me.” Master Rollin hoisted an axe from one of the tables despite the one hanging from his belt.

When we stepped into the hallway, the relief I’d experienced when I didn’t spy Elren or Johin in the shop was trounced when the former jogged toward Master Rollin. “Sorry I’m late. I was up late studying and overslept.”

The instructor took it in stride. “That’s fine,” he winked his eyes in succession, “Elren. You’re entitled to be late once per semester, and all credit to you! You got it out of the way on the first day.” He held out the axe he’d swiped from the table.

Elren smirked, snatched the axe, then turned his gaze toward me. A smile crept across his lips, but it never touched his eyes. One side of my nose twitched with disdain before I could stop it. I didn’t want to show him the pleasure of a response, but some things we just couldn’t control.

He showed the nerve to fall in next to me as we walked down the long corridor. “Not still mad about that little trick we played, are you?” When I didn’t offer so much as a glance in his direction, he chuckled. “C’mon. It’s not like you didn’t get even. You broke Johin’s nose. If Roshan hadn’t been there to heal it, the shaft would’ve carried a right turn for the rest of his life. You must’ve walloped him good.”

Finally, verified. Roshan knows, yet she didn’t report the conflict.

I longed to probe but resisted.

“So, how’d you get out?” he asked. “I’m itching to know. When I saw Shabana come out of the temple alone, I surmised you’d sent her away. Did she give you the key?”

And there it was. Common purpose between Johin and Elren. Retrieve the key. As far as I was concerned, they could swallow the key. But I’d have them wait in repayment for their dirty trick. All things considered, I stood to enjoy endless gains from their deception. But to concede the key and act like nothing had happened wouldn’t teach the entitled worms anything.

“Was there a key? I hardly remember, so encumbered by fury was I. Does that please you? That you made me angry?” I waved a hand before he could reply. “Go away, Elren.”

We passed the hallway where I’d seen the older man in the robe talking to Magister Leira. It was empty.

Instead of dropping back or moving ahead as I’d hoped, Elren leaned toward me and lowered his voice. “Hey, not that it’s any of my business, but Johin will have that key. His father is High Chancellor of Trowlsby, and he’s connected down here in Warrington. So, you’d do better just to give it up.”

I forced a smile across my features. “Again, you assume I have the key.”

“If you don’t, then where is it?”

I stopped in the middle of the hall as the rest of the class filed by. “Why do you all want the key to an empty room so badly?”

Elren lips wound so tightly they wrinkled. That was satisfaction enough. I strode ahead and caught up with the class.

We turned left, peddled down a corridor, then burst into the daylight through the high doors of the front entrance. Two men in silver plate stood just outside. At first, I thought they stood guard, but when Master Rollin waved them forward, they split up and fell into our ranks on either side.

Elren spoke from behind me. “A protection detail. By the time Johin’s finished his work with you, you’ll wish they followed you around.”

I might have reminded Elren I was carrying a hand axe and possessed the strength to wield it if needed, but then Master Rollin turned, weaved his way through the students, then cocked his chin at one of the guards. “Please lead.”

The guard nodded. He guided the students through the main gate, turned right, then passed the chapel. Our instructor turned to pace beside Elren, just behind me.

“I might be old, but I’m not deaf. If I construe correctly, you’re threatening a fellow student. So, let me be clear. If any harm comes to this young woman, I will see that you are the first one shunned. Do my words ring clearly?”

“Yes, Master…”“

“Oh, yes, you missed that part. Well, wink your eyes and commit my name to memory. You won’t want to forget it again.”

When the instructor moved ahead, he gripped my elbow gently and tugged me forward. “Tell me, Contessa, from where in Millbury do you hail?”

I threw an irresistible smile over one shoulder at Elren as we left him behind. “The southern region, beyond the Gynas Peaks.”

“Oh, I see. I see. Hardly Millbury at all.”

“I was born closer to Millbury, as my father told it.”

“What work was your father in?”

“We were farmers.”

“Ah, the very highest servants of the goddess.”

We weren’t as pious as all that, but I didn’t correct him. I gave a half nod instead.

“I see your Carpentry skill is six. How’d you come upon your ranks?”

The secrecy I’d detected surrounding the Fowler Foundation and the identity of its master plowed through my mind as I considered his question. The last thing I wanted to do was tip anyone off that I’d been there, or even that it existed, until I knew more about it. If I ever wanted them to accept me, errant words might sink my chances.

“My father taught me a thing or two.”

“And where is your father now?”

I shook my head and found words wouldn’t come.

Master Rollin nodded understanding. “A violent death?” When I nodded, his lips twisted to one side. “Hmm, but you’re seventeen.”

“Yes? So?”

“It’s nothing. Never mind. I’m just a nosy old man.”

“It’s fine. What were you thinking?”

“Forgive me, I don’t mean to accuse, but if you’re not of unbinding age, your father would have unbound you of his own will for you to gain skill points.”

Perceptive. He’d caught me in the lie immediately. “If it pleases you, Master Rollin, I’d have my secrets.”

“Wouldn’t we all?” He smiled and paced ahead. He spoke to me without looking back. “But deception is unnecessary, and you’re going to have to reach rank twenty-six in order to pass. Sometimes a head start isn’t so great.”

Despite the meaning in his words, a laugh rose into my throat and coughing it out eased the tension in my shoulders. “Fair enough, Master Rollin.”

Elren strode past me as we started up a long incline into the forest outside the west gate. “Boot shiner.”

I ignored him. It was a wonder I’d been forced into a world where such low beings carried high confidence. Maybe someday I’d understand. Or I could grow so powerful he’d never stand a chance bullying me further. My mind wandered to the scrolls in the cave. I’d have to find a way to retrieve them.

Yes. I liked that idea better.

“‘The hell are you smiling at?” Elren said, peering over his shoulder.

I sustained the smile with my lips, even if it melted from the rest of my features. “Elren, please select another target for your ire. You might see me as some simpleton from a farm, but you lack the ability to see the more crucial element.”

He stopped and waited for me. “What’s that?”

“That I don’t care what you think.”

Elren stood still as I passed. “One day you’re going to be walking behind me scribing the tales of my conquests, farm girl.”

“Aye, perhaps so,” Master Rollin called back, “but that day will never come if you don’t hurry along and skill up so you pass this class.”

The old man had ears. He stopped halfway up the hill and swung both arms wide. “Find wood. Analyze it. Read the description, then cut saplings no thicker than your forearms. Fell them knowing that if your tree lands on or otherwise injures someone, you will be portaled into the netherworld.” The whole class gaped. “Okay, maybe not the netherworld, but I’m certain to take unkindly to injuries.”

I found a sapling of stiff wood and of the right diameter within minutes. I spent entirely too much time in the wood surrounding the farm not to have a quick eye. To bring down a tree and cut firewood was as commonplace as riding our horse. A moment of wonder as to my horse’s likely destiny led me down a dark mental path in a matter of moments, so I pushed it away and focused on my cuts.

Your Forestry skill has reached rank 3.

Not bad for a few minutes work. Maybe when I skilled up, my strokes wouldn’t be so clumsy. As natural as it’d been for me to cut wood near the farm, it seemed like an unseen force threw off my aim—or maybe something had changed when I was unbound. I didn’t know where that latter thought came from, and I could make no sense of the logic, but it somehow rang true.

Motion came from my right. An axe swung within inches of my face before clanking against my sapling high on the trunk, then thumping to the ground. I whirled, stumbled, and tumbled backward.

Elren’s eyes went wide. He staggered backward. “I didn’t mean to, Tess. It got away from me on the backswing.”

Master Rollin appeared at my side and offered a hand. When I accepted it, he hoisted me with surprising strength. “Tess, are you okay?” He pushed my hair over my ears and checked the sides of my head.

I dusted my backside and plucked a stuck piece of pine straw. “I’m fine.”

He wheeled. “And you, Elren, are you okay?”

My adversary reacted in further surprise. “Me? Why would I—”

“You wouldn’t, dolt!” Master Rollin snatched the axe from the ground. “But it seems to me anyone who can’t maintain his grasp has no business wielding an axe, at all!”

“I’m sorry. I just…”

“You are dismissed. See magister Leira about selecting a new elective.”

Elren lowered his head and stomped down the hill.

Master Rollin called after him, “And tell her alchemy is out of the question. I wouldn’t have a dimwit concocting chemicals!”

Elren didn’t bother looking back.

I squinted as I watched him go. I couldn’t divine the reason for his behavior. Did the idea of scaring me so thrill him? And if so, why had he seemed surprised? He could’ve been play acting, but the response had seemed genuine.

Then again, I wasn’t the best judge. Perhaps he wanted a story he could laugh about with his well-connected bully friend. Maybe Elren was so brazen, losing his elective weighed little on his consciousness.

Master Rollin must have had enough for one class because he turned and dismissed us. The guards collected our axes.

On my way down the hill, I spied Roshan standing just on the other side of the gate. Today she wore a lovely, thick wool robe of white and green. It made her look younger. Of course, she was only three years older. How much younger could she go?

“Contessa of Millbury,” Roshan said to Master Rollin then gestured in my direction. “If you’re finished with her.”

“Of course, Master Roshan.”

“Come with me, Tess.” She flicked four fingers toward herself.

My first inclination was to ask where we were going. But when Roshan turned left and led me toward the chapel, a sinking feeling crept into my gut and I stayed quiet. We passed through the open doors, and the scent of linseed oil rose on the air. She led me down the center aisle between the pews, around the stone altar, then through the door on the right. After a short trip down a narrow corridor, we came to a familiar door of aged, unfinished wood. She yanked it open.

The metal covering inside leaned away from the tube. It reminded me of how Baba slept in his chair after a hard day’s work, with his head leaned back and his mouth agape as he snored. She gestured toward the ladder without a word, so I descended. This time, I managed to keep my sandals on.

When she reached the bottom, she turned to face me. “Tell me, Tess. Do you know what a Währsager is?”

I shook my head. “I can’t claim any expertise.”

“Well, it’s time you learned.”

23

As she led me down the brick-walled corridor toward the hidden room, my heart beat harder with every step. Not because I dreaded visiting the room, but because I longed to. Images of the space crept into my mind at random times, like captures in my interface. But I suspected the contents were the real source of the strange allure.

The beating anticipation dwindled when she swung the door open, and we stepped inside.

The desk was gone. The tomes, gone.

The warm sensation, gone.

The panels on both sides stood wide open, devoid of contents. Roshan stepped in after me then closed the door, which slammed with a thud. The only remaining furnishings were the bookstand and the chair that once sat behind the desk.

Roshan gestured toward it. “Sit, Tess.”

It wasn’t like I had a choice, so I complied.

She leaned against the door. “When first I visited this place, I was overcome by a chill I hadn’t sensed in ages. As young magicians studying the Light, you students might have sensed it. Because of the way my master taught me, I matured in the Light well ahead of my level, and the chills turned to little pinpricks on my skin. Solara’s warnings change as we grow. Do you understand?”

I nodded. “I think so.”

She shoved off the door with the heel of one boot, then paced to the hole I’d broken in the panel on one wall. She chipped away at the splintered wood, dropping flecks to the floor. “Did you sense the chill when you first came here with your friends?”

“I don’t know if I’d call them friends.”

Roshan wheeled around. “I also have a keen sense of avoidance, Tess. I have not struggled to become a Priestess of the Light and vanquish evil you couldn’t imagine from this continent so I could stand in this dark place and mince words with you. Now. Answer.”

My head jerked back with her admonition. I hadn’t answered directly because I’d sensed just the opposite when I’d entered the room. It’d been warm, inviting. Now I realized the presence of the dark materials had been the source of that warmth.

No doubt lingered. The priestess made clear the night before that she’d sensed my Shadow affinity. I sighed then my shoulders dropped. “No, I sensed no chill when I came here.”

But I sense one now.

Roshan nodded and pinched her lips together like one who’d already known the answer. “Your low affinity for the Light is not something to be ashamed of. And it can grow with practice. Do you understand this?”

Again, I nodded, although my grasp was limited. After all, this was the second day of classes, and I still felt like I’d just stepped off the farm. But then my thoughts turned to how she hadn’t mentioned my Shadow affinity. She accepted that I’d chosen the School of Light Magic, and that was that. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised. She was, after all, steeped in the Light.

“Was it you who found the secret cubbies in this room?”

This time, I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Why were you here?”

“I thought you knew about my so-called friends.”

She nodded. “But not why you were here.”

“The boys brought me here to lock me in. They’d been here before. Maybe they wanted to share the disturbing chill they sensed with me out of some sick idea of indoctrination. I don’t know.”

“The motivations of others are often shrouded from us. Get used to it, and you won’t be surprised.” She paced away from the wall. “I brought Magister Leira and a few masters here to clear out the texts. Two had been here before, but they hadn’t discovered the hidden panels. I wonder why you did, but the masters hadn’t.”

“Because I was trapped in here and had nothing better to do than search for a way out?” It came out like a question, but the words rang true.

“Yes. I suppose that’s possible.”

“Possible. Forgive me, Master Roshan, but why does it seem like you suspect me of something?”

“You didn’t tell me about the tomes. I discovered a gash in that panel,” she threw out a finger for emphasis and the poisonous quills lodged deep into the opposite wall were an added clue. So, you tell me, of what might I suspect you?”

I shook my head, although I knew the answer well enough.

She didn’t provide one. “Were you able to read any of it?”

Oh, now it was certainly time to lie. “No. The texts were in runes I didn’t understand.”

My mind window had something to say about that.

Now, that’s a doozy.

The goddess penalizes you 10 Light points.

Current disposition: Neutral

Current Rank:

Light: -20/-250

Next Threshold: Untrusted

“And how do you know they were runes? What knows a farm girl of runes?”

“They adorned my father’s armor. Not that I knew it was armor. Panels hung on our wall like artwork. Only the day we were attacked did I discover its true purpose. He called the metal to him, then the plates formed around him. I’d spent years admiring the symbols on our wall, though I didn’t know they were runes. When I drew them on my staff at Fowler Foundation, they gave my staff powers.”

“So, you gained rune skill points, which means some runes are decipherable, right?”

She had me, and I knew it. “Yes. I can read some runes.”

“The truth, at last. I’ll ask you again. Did you read any of the tomes stored here?”

I shook my head. There was no other solution. I’d left the tomes I couldn’t decipher in that room and smuggled the ones I could partially read to the cave. If I told her I could read any, she would ask which ones. Then I’d be trapped because if other masters scoured the texts they’d moved out of here, Roshan would compare notes and learn the topic I claimed to have read didn’t exist in them. They might not discover my deception that day or the next. But when they did find out, they’d know I kept some of the materials for myself.

And then my plan to power up over time so I could survive and someday avenge my father would be burned. In short, it didn’t matter if I wanted to come clean or not because my original plan was the higher priority. Perhaps the guilt washing over me like a cold bath sufficed so I didn’t receive another Light point penalty for the same lie. Perhaps the goddess was reasonable. It was possible she even supported my desire to advance myself.

It’s a fine plan.

The unexpected voice in its low, droll tone caught me by surprise so my head swiveled toward Roshan.

She set her hands on her hips. “Tess?”

“I couldn’t read any of the tomes you found. Okay?” I blurted.

“Interesting word choice. The tomes I found. Were there others?”

A vulgar word passed through my mind. I’d gone and given up the truth, anyway. Maybe deception wasn’t my strong suit. But my response showed frustration was. “I found some other materials, and I hid them away.”

The goddess smiles about your honesty with her faithful servant.

You have gained five Light Points.

Current disposition: Neutral

Current Rank:

Light: -5/-250

Next Threshold: Untrusted

I expected to be admonished again, but Roshan surprised me by sitting at my feet and pulling her ankles high to cross her legs. “So, you were able to read some.”

This conclusion had come so fast, I knew I’d underestimated the priestess. I needed to stop doing that.

I let out another sigh. “Yes. But only in bits and pieces. It’s not like I learned a bunch of Shadow magic from them.”

Roshan adopted a mellow tone. “The being who used to occupy this place was a vampire.”

Vampire? Like the suckers of life force my father told me about?

Roshan continued. “He was called Währsager because of his ability to seek out magic users by the strength of their essences. Rubal has a dark history of magic suppression, and atrocities I wouldn’t repeat have been visited on people like us for ages because of this dark man’s—if you can call such an undead creature a man—doings.”

So, the man who wrote notes in the margins was a vampire?

“If you possess any of his materials, it is imperative you lead me to them.”

Pictures scrolled through my mind. The cave. The huge rock troll, who was unlike any troll I’d ever heard of. The wolf. Our battle—which nearly killed me—and how the troll had come to my rescue. After all, that’s what it had been. He hadn’t pursued me when I ran, and telling Roshan about my savior—despite what my savior was—seemed a betrayal of the lowest order.

“They are lost to us, Master Roshan.”

Roshan stood then dusted off the back of her robe. “Your conduct does not become the tradition we are trying to build here, Contessa of Millbury. If you would spirit away such dark documents for your own keeping, then you cannot be trusted. But I can’t prove, even to myself, this was your intent.”

No, I’d say she drove that hammer pretty accurately.

“Perhaps you have other reasons for your decision not to be forthcoming. But you’ve done little to gain my trust or the benefit of the doubt.” She threw the door open. “For your edification, we have Shadow students who could become susceptible to Hokrahm’s dark designs if they were to fall upon these materials without the proper resistance training. Magic requires balance. If such dark fortunes come to pass, you will be the one I seek for recompense.”

Instead of considering how others might be affected, a dark moment of narcissism swept over me when I wondered if what the priestess said meant I was susceptible to dark callings. By all accounts, my Shadow affinity was very high. An image of the ember-eyed dark demon standing in the field gazing up at my dorm room window flashed, and the sudden realization I might be in over my head had me up from my chair and following Roshan into the hallway with the intent of coming clean.

But then she spoke over her shoulder. “You will return all the materials within two days’ time, or you will be expelled from Warrington Academy. If you cannot return them, then you can tell Magister Leira where they are, and we will retrieve them.”

Maybe it was a testament to my perseverance that I saw her words as a gift of time because after she’d spoken them, I changed my footing. I curled my lips inward and followed her to the ladder in silence.

After we reached the top, Roshan slammed the grate shut. Then she focused her hard gaze upon me a final time. “Two days, Tess. If it wasn’t for the potential danger of the tomes and Master Leira’s determination to see them in the proper hands, I wouldn’t be able to give you that much time.”

“And who has the proper hands?” I asked, surprising myself.

“These are things that don’t concern students.” She held up a pair of fingers. “Two days, Contessa.”

* * *

Despite the threat of being cast out of the academy, I showed up for work at Looli’s place. A line of patrons stretched halfway across the road, but only a few people wore protective clothing or caster’s robes. It seemed flavor sold the rolls, as well.

She smiled grandly as I approached. “Oh, Tess. Thank the goddess. I’m getting low on stocks, and we might have to start selling fresh instead of leaving them to sit for a day. Hustle up, now.”

“Sure.” I slipped under the table then shuffled down the hallway and into the kitchen.

Looli’s place was already becoming a safe haven. My mind slipped into my work, and as I gained a few cooking skill points, I focused even harder on making every roll perfect. I’d gained the Apprentice rank, and soon, I would be halfway to Adept.

Your cooking skill has reached rank 14.

When I spun off the lid of a jar of fruit I hadn’t wrapped before, its scent struck a note of familiarity.

The rock troll was eating this.

I peeled then rolled the fruit, an idea forming in my head. So hard was I concentrating, I never heard the typical footfalls and squeak of a loose floorboard in the hallway before Looli appeared at the end of business.

“Well, you really achieved tonight, young lady.”

“Thanks. I like this work.”

“I’m glad because the way business is now, I don’t think I’ll survive without you.” She pulled up a chair then grabbed a rag to wipe her hands.

“Maybe someday you’ll be able to hire me for longer hours.”

She pulled the rag up the length of one finger then dropped it in her lap. “Why would you want more hours? Won’t you have to spend many practicing magic at the academy?”

“I’ve been reconsidering my time at the academy.”

Looli cocked her head. Her eyebrows knit together, then an eye twitched. She tossed the rag on the table. “Okay, Tess.” She raised both hands and flicked all the fingers toward herself as if beckoning me. “Out with it. What’s happening?”

Was I so easy to read? For someone who practiced deception for high purpose, I needed practice.

Trust no one.

It would’ve seemed strange to tell my father’s voice to shut up out loud, but I sent it away, nonetheless. “There are people at the academy who intend ill toward me.”

“Like the one you had to punch in the nose.”

I nodded. “Today his friend threw an axe on the backswing and nearly hit me. He claimed it was a mistake, but he and the one I punched locked me into a secret room the other day, and I don’t trust them.”

“Secret room? What in the world do you all get up to over there?”

“I don’t want to get up to anything!” The words burst out of my mouth. “People are just so… complicated. I’ve lived on a farm all my life. I’m not used to being around people. I don’t know how to handle it.” Irritation flooded me as tears spilled over. I swiped them away. “I don’t know who to trust. Hell, I don’t know if I can trust anyone. I trusted Shabana, and she betrayed me without a second thought. But then she apologized, and now she claims she’ll watch my back. But how do I know she’s being truthful when we’ve been friends all of three days?”

Another tear spilled over, and my throat quivered.

Looli reached across the table for my hand. Her grip was strong, reassuring, but her words were not. “And what? You’re going to let them have the better of you?”

“Huh?”

“Well, the whole point of going there is to learn magic from people suited to teach it to you, right? This is something you want? To learn magic?”

“I don’t know what I want anymore.”

“Would you like to know what I do when I feel that way?”

I nodded as I wiped away another hot tear.

“I think about what I wanted yesterday. If it’s the same desire I wanted the day before, I stick with it. This way I can trust my judgment instead of my emotions.”

I scrunched up my lips as her meaning took hold. “The day before, I was living peacefully on a farm with my father.”

“And now you’re here. Let’s try this again.” She propped her elbows on the table between jars of fruit and leaned in. “Allowing others to determine your fate is a recipe for unhappiness. People will bully. People will disagree with you. The ignorant will call you stupid.” I had the suspicion Looli might not have been talking about me at all. “But if you give them power, they will take it. Never let your guard down. Don’t give them power.”

“Trust no one, in other words?”

She shook her head. “It’s like you said. You’ve only been among people for a few days. And you can’t let such a short period in their company define your future. You told me the other day you were saved from a snowy grave by a mishon woman, right? How did she treat you?”

“Desini was wonderful. They all were.”

“Then you see, most people are decent. Don’t let a couple of brutes get in your way.” She slapped the table. “But look at me. I sell fruit from a plank of wood in front of my home. What do I know?”

I rounded the table then threw my arms around Looli. She grasped my shoulder with one hand and squeezed as she leaned into the hug from her seat.

“Just one more piece of advice.”

I released her. “Okay.”

“You’ve already given one man a good punch in the nose. Take your victories where you can, but don’t seek out trouble. Turn away from their temptations until they give you no choice.” She stood, grabbed both my shoulders, then pulled me close to gaze into my eyes. “But when they take your choices away, punch them harder and harder until they learn. Because what you’ve told me means they haven’t learned their lessons.” She grasped one of my hands. “If you want to work for me, Tess, I’ll welcome you because I see the strength of your spirit, and you’ve shown up here despite the pains you’ve endured at the academy. But it’s not what I want for you. Your gift is one I can’t imagine. Use it. Empower yourself. And let no one stand in your way.”

New tears welled in both eyes. I nodded.

“One more thing, sweets. You can trust the priestess. Roshan. She’s a constant customer, and she runs a gem shop in town if you want to meet her away from watchful eyes. It’s on the same road as the temple, about a three-minute walk south on the left.”

“If she doesn’t expel me first.”

“Roshan?”

It was then I decided that if I’d trust someone, it’d be Looli. She’d been nothing but nice to me. Supportive. Ready with solid advice. I leveled with her about the tomes. The scrolls. The conflicts. The demon who killed my father then reappeared in the field outside my dorm.

“Wow, you really have seen strange days.” She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against a hutch. “What will you do?”

“I don’t know. If I give up the tomes and scrolls, I’ll never see them again, and I’ll have to grow slowly like the rest of the students.”

“Would that be so bad? If Roshan says Shadow students are more susceptible…”

“Right. Good to know. But I have demons chasing me.”

“I see your point.” She unfolded one arm and scratched her cheek. “So, I repeat. What will you do?”

I shrugged.

Looli rolled her eyes. “Tess!” She snapped her fingers twice. “Wake up!”

My eyes shot wide open at the sudden outburst. She lowered her voice, but her tone remained firm. “What are your choices?”

“To give back the tomes or be expelled and teach myself.”

“And if you decide on the second option, how will you get past the troll?”

I eyed the rolls of orange fruit I’d jarred and a few still sitting on the table. “Would you mind if I took a few of the passionfruit rolls with me?”

“Of course not.”

Whether I decided to teach myself or not, the fruit rolls might serve a purpose. But I still needed to decide. The academy should have been a respite from the world outside its halls. I’d run into bad luck and bad people. But Looli was right. I needed to stand up for myself, and if I lost the battle there, I would win the war elsewhere. I was tired and I had two days to decide. The fact Roshan had given me any time spoke to both her patience and the value the academy put on the materials I held. I’d consider carefully before deciding.

“You have a third option.” Looli’s words dragged me from my inner narrative. “You said there are scrolls that will increase your attributes, right?”

I nodded.

“So, return the tomes and use the scrolls to advance yourself. I mean”—she double-cocked an eyebrow as if we shared in a conspiracy—“if you’re the one who benefits and that ensures they don’t fall into the wrong hands, and if these things actually belonged to someone who is now dead, you’re neither stealing nor putting others at risk. That’s how I see it.”

The weight of her meaning unfolded slowly, but when it did, excitement surged. I thanked her, then she walked me to the door. A man stood near the empty plank of wood she’d yet to rinse. He was husky, with strong shoulders and defined biceps.

“You again?” Looli asked. “You don’t give up so easily.”

“Ah, come on, Looli. Maybe we can grab a bite.” His gaze flicked to me then back to her. “Hey, who’s the cute one?”

Looli cocked her chin at me. “Tess, meet Bensin.”

I subtly winked my eyes when I nodded in greeting.

Bensin

Human

Level 39 Tanner

Disposition: Neutral

“He’s one of the ones we have to watch out for. He gets what he wants then doesn’t come back until he’s in need again.”

“Harsh,” Bensin said. “I thought you liked your independence.”

Looli chuckled. “You’ve already used that one, Bensin.” She shooed me away with one lazy hand gesture. “I have a battle to fight with this one, Tess. Get on back to the dorm.” She turned an eye on Bensin. “Or maybe a strapping man like you could escort the young lady.”

“I’ll be fine,” I interjected.

Bensin cocked his chin toward me. “Then I’ll keep an eye on ya from here.”

“Thanks. Nice to meet you.”

“Aye, and you,” he said. “Now Looli…”

Their voices trailed off as I walked up the main thoroughfare. A few stragglers from the day’s trading milled about. Some crossed the road, others passed me. I took in haggard faces, youthful gazes, skins of varying color ranging from milky white to beautiful umber. Warmth welled in the center of my chest then radiated out in all directions. My gaze was drawn to a side street. What I saw there made my heart thump in my throat.

A robed figure lurked in the shadows. As soon as he saw me pass, he stepped forward, into the moonlight.

It’s him.

The man I’d seen in the library then with Magister Leira. Heat surged through my body despite my every inclination to flee. If what Roshan said was true—that Light casters sensed a chill in the presence of strong Shadow forces, and that untrained Shadow magicians were susceptible to beings with power and dark intent—then the inviting warmth should be taken as a signal I should flee.

Although I didn’t break into a run, I lurched into long strides and kept my head low to ignore the few passersby so I could focus on the sounds of footfalls behind me. If I needed to break into a run before I reached the university guards, I would.

You’re being ridiculous. He is a master at the academy.

But if he had no ill intent, why not just catch me at the academy? What could he possibly want in the dark of night on an unpopulated thoroughfare?

“Contessa!” a grumbling voice called from behind.

From here, I could see the gates leading toward the academy’s main entrance, but I was still too far off to see the guards in the darkness. I slipped the staff off my back as I lengthened my strides.

“Contessa, I mean you no harm. Please, stop. Roshan sent me.”

Roshan?

Against the pleading of my mind and warning beats of my rapidly thumping heart, I stopped and wheeled, holding my staff across my body in a defensive position.

The man lowered his hood then nodded. “Greetings, Contessa. I am Master Dracin Welling of the Shadow Council.”

24

You have completed a Legacy Quest!

Find Dracin Welling

You found Dracin Welling.

Reward: 1,500 XP

The master’s words came unexpectedly low, unsure. “Your father was Terrashan of Seran, right?”

My father’s final words echoed in my mind.

If I fall, find Dracin Welling. He will see to your training.

“My father was Terry the farmer up until the last moments I knew him.”

Dracin nodded solemnly. “Yes, I heard of your ill tidings on campus. You have my deepest condolences.” His gaze rose past me. “Come. Roshan awaits us, and we have much to discuss.”

“Roshan? Is she the one who told you about my father’s passing?”

Welling gave a single, curt nod. His eyes drifted to the cobblestones underfoot. “Sad tidings, indeed.”

“And how did you know my father?”

“Not here. Come.”

“Where are we going? To the temple?”

“No. Roshan manages a gem shop on the outer row, just down from the chapel.”

Since Looli had mentioned the place, his words carried legitimacy. But I probed just to be sure. “Why would a Light priestess own a gem shop?”

Crow’s feet deepened at the corners of his eyes, and his lips curved. “Why not? Is a priestess not allowed to engage in commerce?” He waved me toward him, then pivoted and paced up the closest alley leading west without even looking back to see if I followed.

I gazed down the road to find Looli and Bensin moving in our direction. I threw up a hand to wave them off. They returned the gesture and turned back.

Enslaved by curiosity and my father’s last wish, I followed Dracin Welling.

“Roshan uses the profits to fund the chapel and to contribute to the academy. As you might imagine, recruiting students of all ilk to learn magic and crafting skills isn’t without its costs.”

“And a gem shop on the edge of town contributes significantly?”

Welling shook his head. “There is not a salaried master on staff. The former university worked on a stipend from the king’s coffers in exchange for the registration of magic users. It’s fortunate they were somewhat frugal with the funds and left a surplus. But other interested parties contribute.”

When he turned right at the end of the dark alley and we stepped into the moonlight, I breathed a sigh of relief. The night was chilly, and the brisk wind funneled between the buildings made the temperature feel even colder. But without the constraints of the alley creating the cross breeze, this road was more comfortable. The warmth I’d encountered when Welling appeared bloomed as I jogged forward a few steps to walk beside him.

“Who contributes? Why?”

“Just here, on the right.”

I didn’t know where else the shop would be, considering only a low wall sat on our left. But I noticed no entrance where he indicated, either. He reached for a recessed door I would’ve missed if I’d passed it in broad daylight, knocked four times, then once more.

The lock clicked, then the door swung open to reveal Roshan, her long black locks resting loosely upon her shoulders. She wore a simple but finely-spun white pullover and black trousers. Without a word, she waved us in.

Beyond a short mudroom, we passed through a kitchen area and into the dark shop. I assumed it was closed for the night, like all the other businesses. Most shuttered their windows an hour after sundown. The people of Warrington rose early. Something we had in common until I’d arrived at the academy and events brought a constant exhaustion.

“I shall never grow used to the prickles you compel,” Roshan muttered, but with a slight smile.

The priestess must have been referencing his Shadow affinity. It made sense, as I’d responded to him in the same way. While I contemplated this, I realized he was staring at me as he leaned against a counter between high chairs. When I looked away, I found Roshan’s gaze also locked on me.

She studied me, then one side of her mouth curved upward in sync with the eyebrow on the opposite side. “Why do you seem surprised, Tess? Did you think I was talking to Master Welling?”

I glared.

Roshan smiled. “Of course you did. Why wouldn’t you? But you should know when your fellow students in the Light school level up and bind themselves to the Light, they will be in a constant state of chill around you until they mature.”

“Wonderful.” I scowled.

“You have much to learn about magic. I wonder if your father raised the subject of your mana pool at all.”

The tone she used when discussing my father pinged my nerves like a mallet on lute strings. Although it might have been prudent to measure my tone considering our latest interaction, my mouth was strides ahead of my mind on the topic. “And what would you know of him?”

Dracin Welling replied. “She might know little, Contessa of Millbury, but I know what desires he held for you.”

“How would you know that? How were you even acquainted?”

His gaze flitted toward Roshan then back. “The tale might be a tad long if you wish to sleep tonight.”

He smiled, but I didn’t match it. His shoulders dropped a bit.

Roshan walked toward the kitchen. “I will make tea. Would you have some, Tess?”

I shook my head. Dracin nodded when she cast him a questioning glance. The priestess set off for the kitchen. When she was gone, I folded my arms across my chest.

“His spirit is strong in you. Come.” Dracin patted a high chair’s seat, but renewed belligerence stiffened my legs, and I shook my head. He sat then spun the top of the chair to face me. “Let me spin my tale, and your questions will be answered.”

“How will you answer my questions if you don’t know what they are?”

“You provided the first two.”

“Did I?”

“You asked how I was acquainted with your father, and how I’d know what he wanted for you. Would that suffice for a starting point?”

Since the questions had been less than a minute past my lips, and because I recalled the half-frenzied state in which I’d asked them, I felt like a real dolt. I needed to sharpen up. As this was shaping up to be a long discussion, and as I was already tired, I pried my feet from the floor then slid into a chair.

“Yes. Yes, it would suffice. How did you know my father?”

“How I knew your parents is a story for another time.”

My head jerked so hard I thought my spine might snap. “Parents? You knew my mother, too?”

“I hope you were being sincere about your willingness to lose sleep.”

“I was!”

“I know your mother, Tess.”

A lump formed in my throat.

He looked away, perhaps uncomfortable with my show of emotion. “What story did your father tell you?”

“That she died in childbirth, of course.”

“I see.” The hint of a frown creased the corners of his mouth, and in that simple motion, he sent a shockwave up and down my body that made my flesh tingle.

“Wait, so my mother did not die when she birthed me?”

“Your parents met when people across Rubal were being registered, provided they were lucky enough to avoid outright subjugation. The king mandated magic users be kept under a watchful eye. If they refused and hid their gifts, they were imprisoned.”

“My father kept so much from me.” A knot formed in my belly with the realization of just how true the words were.

Master Welling nodded. “That first moment after your binding broke must have been disorienting. Most children and young adults receive forewarning. Where were you when it happened?”

“Fleeing demons.” I waved an impatient hand. “You frowned in such a way that—”

“I’m coming to it. Be patient, Tess.” He leaned forward. “Trust me. It’s an attribute you must expand if you’re to survive in this world.”

The stony gaze sealed my lips.

“Since your mother wanted to avoid the watchful eyes of the monarch and his bastard regent, the Governor of Knall, she moved constantly after her mother died. She never knew her father, so she understood what you’d be going through.”

“She knew?” I almost slid off my chair to protest the roundabout way he was getting to business, but he pressed a hand to my knee and I stopped.

“She took up adventuring and used her magic to fight back demonkind. Since so few adventurers remained in light of the king’s laws surrounding magicians, the occupation had become uncommon. Eventually, she found your father, who’d formed a party of non-magic users. The way she tells it, they spent much of the proceeds from their battles on potions. But when your mother joined their party, they set out in search of a bonafide healer. They eventually found one in a temple up north, but that’s a story for another day.

“After years of adventuring, your parents fell in love. Then your mother got pregnant with you. They decided to take the winnings of their adventuring life and build in the northern territory, where the governor’s men didn’t patrol and the monarch hadn’t sent delegations in decades. When your father went for supplies one day, your mother left their cabin and encountered two grizzlies.”

“Bears?” My jaw dropped.

He nodded. “Towering monsters. You see, your mother used an anti-magic shield spell to hide her magic capabilities. Her mana pool would be invisible to anyone who analyzed her. She only cast when the party was underground because there were beings out there who could find people based on their spell casting. They could find anyone, really, but spell casters called out to them when they dared unleash their abilities above ground.”

I pictured the tome with notes in the margins, the study beneath the academy. “You’re talking about the scryer.”

Again, Welling nodded.

Roshan returned with a tray holding three cups. She set it on the counter where a glass top covered multicolored gems. They glowed when she approached. “I brought you some, anyway. Chamomile soothes the soul, and yours might need soothing.”

Welling continued. “The Währsager was a dark being who employed many scryers in those days. They spread out across the continent seeking out those who escaped the king’s justice—or at least, that’s the story. In truth, there were more nefarious uses of magic users which I won’t discuss tonight.

“When your mother came under attack with you resting in her belly, she reacted in the only way she knew how and laid the grizzlies to rest.”

I blew a breath through a gaping mouth. To imagine my own mother wielded power—and that my father hid it from me all my life. Then his meaning dawned. “And one of the scryers found her.”

“Yes. They Silenced her and brought her to the academy.”

“Which is where the Währsager resided under everyone’s noses,” Roshan said. “Fools couldn’t see the evil right beneath them, except for the complicit.”

Welling nodded agreement. “And the complicit were powerful. But that’s yet another story for the future.” Welling leaned back then crossed his legs. “By the time my group learned your mother had been taken into custody with child, she’d been moved to the governor’s palace.”

“My mother was in Millbury Peaks, then?”

“In the bowels of the palace. In a cell.”

“To what end?”

“We knew through our connections that the king’s subjects with barren wives would pay a pile of coin for any child, but a mana-bearing one? The child would be a symbol of their high status, a sick reflection of their own connections to the Luttrell Monarchy. That they’d be allowed to register and keep them made them appear special.”

My nose twitched. “Rubal is a much sicker place than I believed growing up.”

“Suffice it to say, my people opposed the weight of the monarch’s golden hand pressed on the necks of people like us. We put together a team, infiltrated the palace, and rescued her.” He shook his head and spoke in a lower tone. “A bloodier ordeal than we’d anticipated, I’m afraid.” One shoulder jumped then fell. His tone returned to normal. “Now that the scryers knew of her, she would never be safe. Unlike before, when she’d stayed on the move in the interest of safety, she was a known fugitive. She feared she’d have to flee on a boat to another continent to escape the king’s grasp, but we offered her an alternative.”

“Who are we?” I asked. “Who are your people?”

“We’re the descendants of magic users who stood against the king when he handed down the proclamation that all magic users would be registered or imprisoned. When the atrocities I mentioned earlier came into play in a dark communion with the underworld, my grandmother and the rest of her group rose up in bloody rebellion. But they were greatly outnumbered by the king’s forces, many of whom were magicians, subjugated or born into his allies’ families. They spread to different continents, formed small covens, and used their magic to conceal themselves.

“I was born into it and benefitted by learning the magics of a coven in northern Rubal. Then, I became an infiltrator. Like my mother before me, I ventured from town to town in eastern Rubal, making connections with sympathizers. Building a network so that one day, when the goddess saw fit to open a door for our return, we would be prepared.”

“No more being outnumbered?” I asked.

“How astute of you, Tess.”

“And now you’re here. At the academy. Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious? If we want to stand against the king, remove him from his very throne and end the Luttrell line forever, we will need the best of the best to stand with us.”

Although weighty on their own, the words suffered in comparison to the realization they brought flooding like icy water through my veins. “You’re training an army. You’re going to start a civil war.”

“To hear your bluntness, I’d think I was talking to your mother.”

Although I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer, I had to ask the question that lay beneath all this subtext. “Where is my mother?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know.”

“An anticlimactic response.” I didn’t bother suppressing my frown.

He gave a deep, slow nod until his chin pressed to his chest. “And I’m sorry for that. But your mother will find me when the time comes. Until then, she dictates her own missions for the coven.”

“You mentioned its name in the alley. What was it?”

He nodded. “We call ourselves the Shadow Coven.”

“Ominous.” My lip crooked with sarcasm.

“Contessa,” Roshan uttered in low tones.

Master Welling chuckled then waved her off. “It’s okay, priestess. I’m not so easily offended.”

“No idea where I can find her?”

“Why, would you run off tomorrow?” Welling asked. “Trudge across the continent to the east, four thousand miles over land and lake?”

I grunted. “Maybe.” A thought occurred. “How long are you willing to wait?”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s no way the students of this academy combined with the one I keep hearing about for warriors and the like up north number enough for a war.”

“Again, astute of you. Our matron has seen fit to provide us with assistance on this front.”

“Who is your matron?”

“Queen Simansia.”

“The elven queen?”

Welling smiled. “Indeed.”

“Where does she come into this?”

“For one thing, she helps to fund the work we do at the academy. Like I said, the shop in which you sit turns most of its profits to the purpose, as well. I’m sure this would be a great surprise to the man who owned it before.”

“What man?”

He waved me off, but when I pinched my lips together, he rolled his eyes and answered. “A magician named Prantu who used to be second in command at the university. He was my contact here in my business for the council. He reached out when things took a turn for the better in eastern Rubal, and told us about a—”

Roshan stopped him with a subtle shake of her head.

More secrets.

Because I knew she’d lived there once, something told me this one had something to do with the master of the foundation everyone refused to talk about.

“Prantu died before the governor was dethroned, but when we received word from him of certain events I’m obligated to keep in my lungs, I came. Roshan knew Prince Triyan Renard, so we parlayed with the queen and another special being.” His gaze flicked to Roshan.

I didn’t care anymore. I just wanted to get to the bottom of things.

“We decided to form the academy. The queen helped fund it, and to finally answer your query about the population required to form an army, she has elves scouring the east for magic users to offer them refuge and training here, then they can decide whether they’d fight for their freedom.”

“And they can leave when they like?”

He nodded. “Have no doubts about that, Tess. We are not what came before. But the people of eastern Rubal share feelings ranging from mistrust to utter fear of the Luttrell line and how they’ve managed the continent for generations. They’re ready for this. They just need to be convinced to join the cause then taught how to survive it.”

“And why would they trust the elves?”

This time, the master laughed outright. “Because they’re the by-goddess elves! Everyone loves the elves except for demons and the shade elves.” He leaned forward. “And when’s the last time you saw a shade elf in eastern Rubal?”

“Why are you telling me all this? You can’t possibly be so open about it in public. Why trust me?”

“I have my reasons. That’s all I can say for now.”

Roshan shook her head again. “Tell her the rest.” She raked her gaze over me. “Tell her how she is not so slick as she thinks. Explain to her how a level thirty-eight Priestess of the Light can detect her Shadow aura at farthest sight of her. Astute? Hmph.” She pushed off the counter and folded her arms beneath her bosom. When Welling didn’t start, she cocked her chin at him. “Well? No? Fine.” She gave the counter a light slap then rested both hands on it. The gems beneath glowed brighter. “We’re not telling you because we trust you, Tess. After all, why would we trust someone who whisked away dark treasures that didn’t belong to her? She who won’t even show herself to us?”

“Show myself?”

She snapped her fingers twice. “Come on, Tess. Wake Up!” In that moment, she reminded me of Looli an hour earlier.

“You mean the shadow you detect in me.”

Roshan nodded as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. I wasn’t sure this more abrupt version of her was my favorite. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

“Besides the location of the tomes you uncovered? I’d like to know what your affinity for Shadow magic is.”

The muscle above my lips twitched.

“I dare you to sneer at me, Contessa.” She leaned further over the counter. “Don’t mistake my chosen occupation for weakness, girl. This night, you will satisfy me or be driven from this place.”

Welling raised one hand. “Roshan.” They shared an intense look, then she crossed her arms again and stood with her back straight as a rod. Despite their fullness, her lips formed a white line as her gaze traveled the dark room. The gems in the case dimmed.

“Are you willing to tell me the number?”

My focus shifted from Roshan to the Shadow master, then back. The priestess didn’t meet my gaze, but for reasons unknown to me, I addressed her. “Will I be forced into the Shadow school?”

She finally met my gaze. Her features softened, but it wasn’t me she spoke to. “She’s never seen the world. Desini found her in the snow, almost dead. Before that, she could probably count the number of people she’s known on the fingers of both hands.”

“Fewer, actually.”

Roshan nodded understanding. “Tess, do you think you’re the only student who hides her stronger affinity from us? I hope you’ll understand I worry about your affinity because I have a friend like you. I understand the ramifications.”

“What worries you?”

Welling chimed in. “The susceptibility to Darkness cursed upon the Shadow-powered. Those unbalanced shadow casters who paid no attention to the Light have been influenced by demonkind in ways unimaginable to those unfamiliar with the stories.”

A cold wave washed over me despite Welling’s close proximity, like my blood ran hot while gooseflesh pricked up on my arms.

Welling didn’t give me time to think. “So, are you going to tell us?”

“What’s yours?” I asked, delaying.

“More games,” Roshan said, even if a bit more gently.

Welling waved her off. “No, it’s fine. My Shadow affinity is eighty-percent.”

I cocked an eyebrow and double-checked my affinities.

Magic Affinities:

Potential: 100%

Light: 25%

Shadow: 91%

Why was I so afraid of those numbers? If they wouldn’t force me to change schools, why didn’t I want to share them?

Trust no one.

My mind answered. You lied to me all your life. It’s you I shouldn’t have trusted.

I blurted the answer. “Ninety-one percent.”

Welling slipped off his stool. Roshan took a lumbering step backward and clapped a hand of splayed fingers to her chest. “What?”

Master Welling pinched his chin with his thumb and forefinger while supporting it at the elbow with his other hand. “Potential?”

I lowered my voice to a whisper. “One hundred.”

“One hundred?” Welling belched. He reached for the chair beside him and stumbled into it.

Master Leira had kept her promise not to share my potential.

Roshan leaned her arms on the counter and hid her face. “Oh, my sweet goddess. What gift have you sent to us this day?” She chuckled.

Welling joined in. Then the laughter bloomed until the two of them couldn’t stop. Their faces reddened.

Somehow, I didn’t feel the humor. It was my turn to fold my arms across my chest. “It’s funny?”

Welling soon calmed, to my relief. When he was able to form words again, he leaned in and set a hand on my shoulder. “My girl, you have the highest known Shadow affinity at Warrington Academy. And your potential couldn’t be higher.”

Roshan circled the counter and threw both arms around me. Then she kissed the side of my head. “Oh, you poor thing. You didn’t want to leave Shabana, so you hid your true self.”

And despite the earlier berating, her sudden understanding of my reason for choosing the Light School of Magic flooded me with warm respite from the fear of moments ago. And I knew I loved her.

25

Master Dracin Welling escorted me along the cobblestone path wrapping around the chapel and leading to the side door of the dorms. We walked in silence until we were inside, then he nudged me with his elbow and leaned in to speak just before we entered the library. “You know, my Shadow affinity has been at eighty percent for eleven years.”

“That’s a long time!” I covered my mouth at my outburst and peered up and down the rows of doors on either side. When none opened, I whispered. “That’s a long time.”

“Affinity grows through use, but my potential is lower than yours by more than half. If only you could understand the extent of the gifts the goddess has visited upon you. Why, even your mother’s affinity is lower.”

“Is it?”

“Much. And she’s powerful.”

“Wow. I hope she comes.” I meant it. Despite her leaving me, at least I knew she’d done it to keep me from running all my life. There was a certain elegance in that. Love, I supposed.

“I’ll see she does, one way or another.”

We passed through the library then stopped at the bottom of the spiral stairs leading to my second-floor room. Master Welling gazed at me for a long moment. Not quite long enough for me to grow uncomfortable, but close. When he was done measuring me, he bowed his head for a moment. “Have you given any thought to returning the items Roshan asked for?”

“Return them or be expelled. Yes, I’ve given it thought.”

“I think I can sweeten the offer so it’s less of an ultimatum. I could list several reasons your departure would be a sorrowful event for everyone involved, but suffice it to say I would see you survive and thrive.”

After meeting in Roshan’s gem shop and learning more about the events surrounding my birth and the political state of the region, I was all but prepared to go to the cave, pick up the tomes—except maybe one—and bring them to the priestess. So, I cut to the end. “I have no intention of leaving the academy.”

Welling allowed only the corners of his lips to rise. “I’m glad to hear it. Do you need an escort to recover the tomes?”

And there was the problem. The rock troll occupying the cave outside town might not be friendly. Although he’d saved my life, a glance over my shoulder as I fled injured and bleeding had revealed him carrying the animal over one shoulder. Like he planned to make use of it. I might have just made the job of hunting a wolf easier, and the troll might have just taken advantage of the situation. How would he respond to my return?

I couldn’t guess. But I had to try, and I only planned on waiting until right after class the next day to go. I might’ve set out as soon as Master Welling passed out of sight in the opposite direction, but one thing a farm girl from the mountains knew for sure was wolves loved to hunt at night. Although daylight didn’t promise my safety, I felt better about going then. Besides, the plan I’d formulated as we walked in silence moments before required it.

“No, I already have an escort.”

How easily you lie.

It wasn’t much of a lie, though. I planned to get one as soon as he left. “Now, you mentioned how you might make an appetizing offer.”

Again, he jumped right in. “How would you feel about private training outside your classes?”

“What kind of training?”

“The Shadow kind. And that’s all I’m telling you. You would become my apprentice. Does this interest you?”

“Hell, yes, it interests me.” I glanced up and down the hallway. “But wouldn’t other students be jealous?”

“The other students are just as out of sorts as you, Tess. They’ve left their families and their homes behind, also just like you. They’re not going to question it this early in their academic careers.”

“I know a couple who might.”

“As the Grand Master of the Shadow School of Magic, it’s my decision to make.”

“Magister Leira and Master Roshan wouldn’t object?”

“We’ve already discussed it. I sensed your aura in the library when first I saw you.”

I recalled the way his eyes had flashed as I passed the desk where he sat and the conversation he’d had with the head lady in the hallway. Had that been when they’d discussed my fate? It was strange having people discuss me outside my presence, but it was probably common in this world whose social conventions I’d yet come to understand.

“Would I still be in the Light school?”

He nodded. “Roshan would have it no other way. The dangers of being a powerful Shadow magician can be countered by familiarity with the Light, and Roshan has some experience with this.”

“But she’s just three years my senior. How does she have so much experience?”

“She’s lived a lifetime in the last two years. But these stories are hers to tell. In the meantime, the priestess plans to keep you well within her sight. It won’t be negotiable in your first year, and now that she knows your affinity and potential, it might never be.”

All I wanted to know was that I could continue to attend classes with Shabana. The past was the past, and I hoped she’d be true to her word about watching my back. If so, I’d certainly keep her interests close to my heart.

The offer to train me in Shadow while I attended Light classes seemed like a perfect way to maintain the magical balance I’d learned about in the shop. “I accept with gratitude, Master Welling. I hope I won’t disappoint you.”

He smiled. “Tess, you’d have to try to disappoint me with potential like yours. You’ll see.”

He turned up the hallway and headed back toward the library. “Return the materials tomorrow so Roshan will get out of my ear.”

“Okay. I’ll do everything I can.” Although I still wasn’t sure my lame plan would work.

I climbed the stairs, moved down the hallway, then stopped in front of Shabana’s door. I rapped gently. Footfalls were followed by the door swinging open. She twisted a knuckle against one eyelid.

“I guess I woke you.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay. Did your boss have you working late?”

I shook my head. “No. I had to make a stop to talk with a couple of the masters.”

One eyebrow cocked as the other lowered as the remnants of sleep vanished from her expression. “The masters?” She grabbed my wrist then yanked me inside. “Tell me all about it!” The door slammed without discussion. I noted her bedding had been replaced, but didn’t inquire.

“First, I need to ask you for a favor.”

She shrugged. “Anything. Name it.”

“Would you be up for a little adventure outside the walls tomorrow since it’s our free day?”

Her mouth formed an O. “Oooh. What kind of adventure?”

“The kind where you’ll want your staff and a good pair of shoes in which to run.”

“Hmm. I have only the single pair of sandals.” She waved the thought away. “But I can run barefoot. I’m fast.”

“This, I know. Just don’t leave me behind.”

Her eyelids squinted for just a flash in time. Then she lowered head in a single nod. “I never make the same mistake twice.”

I hoped that was true. “Glad to hear it.”

“Now, the masters. Tell me, tell me, tell me.”

Her wide-mouthed smile of sharp ivory teeth brought out one of my own.

* * *

Sleep evaded me as contradicting thoughts about my father flooded my mind in a repetitive loop. After Master Welling shocked me with the news that my mother lived, my silent room made for a breeding den of conflict.

On one side of my inner struggle scrolled visual images of Baba’s smiling face. The way he encouraged me when I repaired a fence for the first time without his aid, or how I applied leather repair techniques he’d taught me to sewing cloth. But the contrasting narrative proved strong, as well.

He’d lied to me. Told me my mother was dead. When I recalled how my interface rearranged itself upon his demise and how I started gaining new skill points I didn’t know existed, the extent of his deception came into focus. To go so far as to mask my mana pool until I became unbound could serve two purposes. It would keep people from seeing it and reporting me to the authorities as an unregistered magician—a danger I knew little about at the time. And it would keep my curiosity at bay, which equated to stifling my potential.

Although part of me understood why he’d done what he did, I couldn’t ignore the sickening feeling his betrayal had caused. Delusions about the man who raised me were a poisoned stalk wilting the flower of my childhood. I didn’t know the man who suddenly called magic armor from his wall and burst into the open to face the demon horde. It erased my entire perception of who he was. Actually, who he’d once been.

I rolled over in frustration too many times to count and scoured my mind for hours in search of a distraction. Finally, I thought focusing on the future might help suppress my confusion over the past. Indeed, it was much brighter than it’d been just one night before.

Roshan struck me as sincere when I revisited the encounter. Although I’d seen a dark side of the priestess—despite her Light aura—when she initially reprimanded me for hiding my true self, the way she’d embraced me and shown her understanding of my predicament and the resulting choice had filled me with warmth.

For Master Welling’s part, I was reassured by his offer to tutor me. It was a boon to be promised advancement by a man the mysterious Shadow Council trained in magic. Even more so, to have the priestess offer to protect me from the supposed dangers of being a shadow caster by training me in the Light.

I was getting the best of both realms.

26

Free Day. The first since we’d arrived at the academy. And I planned to use it risking my backside so I could recover the tomes to prove my good faith to the masters. Sometimes I wondered if my head was properly attached to my spine.

I knocked on Shabana’s door at first light, then we set out with our staves strapped on tight. In the interest of prudence, we walked to the altar when we entered the chapel to ensure the priestess hadn’t shown up yet. All I needed was for her to catch us returning to the grate and learning I’d stored the tomes outside the safety of the academy premises. It wasn’t a time to have her questioning my judgment—more than she might already.

We passed into the field outside the hidden door near the metal bars. The rising sun was at our backs, painting the rocky terrain in the distance in a soft orange glow. Specks of metal cut into the rocks reflected the daystar brilliantly. The high grass swooshed at our hips, and Shabana’s head swiveled left and right in a slow motion.

“Are you scanning for predators?”

The mishon nodded and continued to scan as she replied. “My pride had four locations in the north and migrated between them with the changing seasons. A watchful eye is best in the wild lands of tigers, grizzlies, and white lions. I suppose it’s a habit that’s hard to unlearn.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to.” I scanned our surroundings with her. “Last time I was out here, a wolf attacked me. If it hadn’t been for Roshan’s timely appearance at the top of the tube ladder, I might have passed.”

Her head stopped swiveling, and she locked her gaze on me. “You might have mentioned there were wolves out here. What level was it?”

“I don’t recall.”

She shot out a short breath. “Open your interface, then go to the Log tab. Select the combat sub-tab, and trace it to the conflict with the wolf.” She sighed. “It’s like you grew up on a farm or something.”

“Even in jest, your words prick at my self-esteem.” I scanned my interface and focused on the tabs she mentioned. When I thought the word wolf, it scrolled to the spot I sought. The goddess was a wonder.

Plains Wolf

While most wolves travel in packs, Plains Wolves are a territorial and competitive breed that often end up going it alone.

Level 9 beast

Melee Power Rating: 17

Melee Defense Rating: 7

Ranged Power Rating: 1

Ranged Defense Rating: 1

Magic Power Rating: 1

Magic Resistance Rating: 1

“The wolf was level nine.”

“Hmm. Okay. That’s not so bad with the two of us, but it could still be a stretch. We should be cautious, and if one presents itself, we should try to get on either side of it so one of us can strike while it focuses on the other. This way we can confuse and cause it to turn back and forth between us. Maybe it will decide we’re not worth the risk and move on. What I’d give for an offensive spell.” She gripped my hand. “As to your self-esteem, your words indicate your father emphasized schooling. I’m sometimes taken aback that a farm girl speaks with such eloquence, and to spare your precious ego, you should recall I, too, am a farmer. Or was.”

Although I could’ve droned on for hours about just how much my father insisted I read and learned numbers, the last thing I needed was another endless flood of conflicting thoughts to distract me while we were outside the gates and my focus was better spent on surviving. “My father didn’t raise an idiot. This is true.” I pointed a finger. “The cave is just around the lip of that jagged outcropping. We should approach with care.”

“I’m still thinking about the wolf.”

I raised a hand when we came to the outcropping and peeked around it to gaze into the dim cave. Solara’s star cast its light against the rocks to project a shadow into the mouth. Nothing Inner Illumination couldn’t remedy. My initial glance proved promising, and I waved her forward. When we reached the bend in the cave, I peered around it to spy the chair-like stone.

Empty.

“The troll’s not here. Come, let’s move.” I began to circle the stone, then stopped.

“What is it?” Shabana threw a glance over one shoulder toward the mouth of the cave. “Did you hear something?”

I hadn’t heard anything, but her words presented an opportunity. “Would you mind standing watch?”

“Good idea. In case it comes back, right?” She winked. “I’ll stand just here, at the bend.”

Maybe I hadn’t considered the endeavor thoroughly. While bringing a mishon who I’d seen swing a staff with determination and accuracy was wise, I hadn’t followed through on the planning piece. If I uncovered the tomes in front of her, she’d also see the leather-encased scrolls I’d deposited. There were eleven of them, and I had no intention of returning those.

I was aware keeping them for myself amounted to a betrayal, but Roshan and Master Welling didn’t know about the scrolls, and the knowledge they contained might be my only chance to excel faster when I reached a high enough level to meet the requirements to read them. When I uncovered the stockpile, however, I still hesitated, staring at the dusty leather cylinders.

If you give them back, someone else will gain the benefits instead of you. Why should that be so?

I pulled my lips into my mouth then nodded. My inner voice was right, once again. I’d discovered the scrolls and the tomes, and I planned to return all the volumes, save for one. The one I could read clearly. While I hoped returning them would provide opportunity for me to study them under Master Welling’s tutelage, there were no guarantees they wouldn’t burn that very night in Magister Leira’s oversized fireplace.

There’d be no parting with the scrolls.

After I’d stacked the tomes on the stone, I glared at the other treasures, then up at Shabana. Once I’d confirmed her gaze was locked on the mouth of the cave, I grabbed the two cylinders I recollected held scrolls with the lowest level requirements then stuffed them underneath my robe where the strap holding my staff secured them to my back. The way the garment flowed revealed nothing of my curves beneath, so hopefully the cylinders wouldn’t show and I could smuggle them back to my room.

When I’d stacked the volumes on the stone, I covered the remaining scrolls then stood. “Okay. Let’s get these back.”

Shabana sauntered over then eyed the stack. Her hands crossed over her chest and she rubbed her shoulders against a chill. “Wow. What are they about?”

“I can’t read them yet.”

“They must be flooded with Shadow magic. My blood freezes in my veins at their proximity.”

“Think you can suffer through it, or should I go find a Shadow student to help lug them?”

She dropped her hands. “I’ve survived the high snows of the wild lands. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She hoisted half the pile with some effort. I snatched the other half, and to see Shabana struggling under the weight of hers, I thanked Solara my father had subjected me to the kind of hard work that increased my Strength attribute. Best I could tell, the mishon was all Dexterity.

At the same time, I wished I’d owned a bag that could manage their weight. Maybe I could convert some of my earnings from Looli to buy one.

“This is going to take forever.” Shabana raised a knee to lift the books for a better grasp.

“Just be ready to drop them if you see a wolf.” I smiled.

“Dropping them won’t be a problem.”

“Oh!” I set my books on the dusty floor of the cave. “I almost forgot.” Reaching into the bag that usually held my Constitution class clothing, I grabbed the cloth in which I’d wrapped ten fruit rolls the night before. I set them on the chair then picked up the books. Shabana gazed at me questioningly when I rose. “For the troll. I saw him eating this fruit the other night before he saved me from the wolf. I wanted to find a way to thank him, even if I can’t trust he won’t snap me in half.”

Your generosity pleases the goddess.

+10 Light Points

Current disposition: Neutral

Current Rank:

Light: +5/+250

Next Threshold: Trusted

Shabana nodded. “You’re a sweet soul. Come.”

A shadow fell across her. I jerked my head up to spy a lumbering figure with huge shoulders glaring back at me.

The rock troll had returned to its cave. Although I couldn’t spy his facial features, his head swiveled as if he snatched looks at each of us in turn. Then he lurched forward.

The books in my hands tumbled to the ground.

27

The tower of books might have toppled from my grasp when the massive rock troll’s shadow passed over me, but Shabana set her pile calmly on the ground, then surprised me when she took a giant sidestep to put herself between the threat and me.

“Stay your ground,” she warned, ears flattened against her hair. “We don’t want to fight.”

I didn’t know where she garnered the courage, and I might have been even more surprised if my heart hadn’t been pounding my ribs with heavy little punches.

My mind scoffed at the idea of reaching for my staff when I took in his powerful shoulders and the boulders for biceps bulging on his arms. But then he raised his big split chin into the air and sniffed.

The fruit!

After grabbing the wraps, I stepped around Shabana. When I extended them, she gripped my shoulder. “What are you doing?”

I dipped my chin toward the fruit rolls. “Fulfilling their purpose. Saying thank you.” I raised the rolls.

The troll sniffed again and reached out with thick fingers to gently grasp a single roll. He held it to his nose, grinned, then nibbled at the edge.

Shabana’s shoulders relaxed, but I was nowhere near that point of comfort. Mine practically covered my ears as I offered the fruit.

The troll rubbed its belly with its free hand. “Mmm. Good.” His voice rumbled in his throat like distant thunder.

Shabana’s head whipped around. “Did it just say—”

“Not it.” The troll thumped a fist to his significant chest. “Brunk.”

I released a breath I hadn’t realized I’d trapped in my lungs. “Is that your name?” I didn’t wait for an answer. I pressed a hand to my chest. “Tess.” Then I pointed at my mishon companion. “Shabana.”

The troll stuffed the rest of the roll in his mouth then nodded. He thrust out a finger, and although we both jerked, he continued the motion. “Tess… Shab…”

“Shabana.” I annunciated every syllable.

“Sha-bon-uh.”

A smile crept across my face, and reverberating shivers of relief caused my shoulders to jostle. “Here,” I raised the rest of the fruit. “For saving me from the wolf.”

The rock troll's eyebrows shot up, then he pointed a thick index finger at his own chest. “Me?”

I nodded then lifted the cloth wrapping higher. The giant’s tentative reach lifted the rolls from my grasp. He twisted a tattered belt that matched his short pants so closely I hadn’t even noticed it, and a little pack slid into view. After he untied it, he tucked the wrapped remainders inside. In one smooth motion, two thick fingers touched his forehead, then his chin, then he dipped them toward me with his palm up. I interpreted it as a gesture of thanks.

I shook my head, then repeated his gesture. “No. Thank you for saving me from the wolf. I would be dead if it wasn’t for you.”

The troll’s head bowed deeply. When it came up again, it tilted to one side as his gaze wandered to the piles of books we’d dropped to the dusty cave floor. “Books.”

I nodded, then raised one and held it out. “Yes. Magic books.”

Instead of accepting the tome, he raised one hand. “Magic?” The lines in the palm of the thick hand facing me glowed yellow, then the light faded as quickly as it had come.

“Whoa.” Ill-prepared for speech, Shabana’s word came more like the croak of the tree frogs found near our farm.

In my excitement, I took a half-step forward before I realized what I was doing. “You know magic?”

The troll shook his head then held his forefinger and thumb an inch apart. “Little.” He raised two fists, then held their inner sides to his chest so his elbows jutted away from his torso. “Craft magic.” He raised one finger in the way I would’ve done if I was telling someone to wait.

I jerked when he stepped forward, but he twisted his considerable body sideways to slip past us. He strode beyond the stone chair and the place where I’d hidden the tomes, then moved a huge rock that jutted from the wall near the floor. I’d seen the stone before but thought it was part of the wall. A big leather pack appeared when he set the stone aside. He lugged the faded brown bag over, dropped himself onto the stone chair, then rifled through it. I noted four pockets on the front and a metal snap, bringing me wonder as to where he’d procured it. He lifted a tiny black rope from inside with something dangling from one end. Then he offered it up at eye level.

He tapped his chin with two fingers again, then pointed them at me. The slim rope dangled in his grasp. I drew my hands toward my chest. When I didn’t take it, he tapped his chin with both fingers again. “You.” Then he tapped the smaller pouch on his belt. “Fruit.”

Although I understood, I shook my head. “No. The fruit was a gift in return for my life. I’m already in your debt.”

His thick black eyebrows knitted together and his eyelids formed slits through which his shining orange eyes stared at me. “No.” He shook his hand twice and whatever was attached to the rope trembled in his grasp. “You. Safe.”

I blinked both eyes as I examined the rope.

Simple Idol of Physical Defense

Level 5

Type: Jewelry

Slot: Neck

Quality: Common

Durability: 30 of 30

Effect: +2 to Melee Defense

All physical attack damage reduced by 2

I gripped the rope in a gentle grasp and the troll let it slip from his fingers. The idol on one end depicted a figure with her hands drawn to her chest, much like the troll’s motion of moments ago.

“This is beautiful, Brunk. Where did you get it?”

Brunk ripped a knife from a sheath on his belt, then Shabana jumped backward and stepped in front of me for the second time.

“No!” Brunk rose then held up the palm that didn’t clutch the knife. “Look.” He rifled through his bag and presented a stick. Although he kept his distance, he reached out as far as he could to offer the stick to Shabana.

She took it, turned it sideways, and scanned it. “Oh. I see.” She turned, and held it up. A carving in its center depicted a wide-faced figure with a jutting, split chin. A rock troll, but with slimmer features. Maybe a female. I ran my fingers over its nose. “So, you made the idol?” My gaze shifted to the wide blade of his knife. “With that clumsy thing?”

He nodded. “Brunk cut.” His hand flat, he stroked it across the opposite shoulder.

Then I thought I understood. I mimicked the gesture. “Carve?”

He thumped his chest. “Brunk.” Then he sliced his hand across his shoulder again. “Carve.” Then he nodded enthusiastically.

I grinned from ear to ear. “He speaks with signs as well as words.”

Shabana shook her head in derision. “It took you this long to figure that out?”

Because she’d stepped in front of me twice when she sensed danger, I couldn’t muster a sarcastic expression in response to her quip. I offered the idol to Brunk. “It’s beautiful, but I’m already in your debt.”

Brunk turned his head up and to one side, his gaze wandering to the cave wall, then shook his head.

Shabana sighed. “You’re being rude, and you’re offending a rock troll in the process. Besides, look at him. I don’t think he needs it.”

She had a point, and the last thing I wanted to do was irritate Brunk when things were going so well. I pulled the rope over my head and the idol bounced against my breastbone. “Thank you.”

Brunk’s head came back around, then he gave a curt nod. “Welcome.” He raised a palm to his ear. Again, I repeated the gesture and the word. He nodded his approval.

Shabana smiled. “This is awesome.”

I nodded. “I, too, am in awe.” My gaze leveled on the rock troll, I winked both eyes in succession.

Brunk

Level 14 Rock Troll

Giant humanoids known for their strength, rock trolls are often used for slave labor in middle Rubal.

(No Class Selected)

Melee Power Rating: 28

Melee Defense Rating: 32

Ranged Power Rating: 6

Ranged Defense Rating: 4

Magic Power Rating: 1

Magic Resistance Rating: 5

I tucked the idol into my robe, then patted the cloth over it. “Thank you again, Brunk.” I tapped my forehead then my chin with two fingers, then stretched them toward the troll.

He raised his palm to his ear. “Welcome… Tess.”

“Now, we have to carry these books back to the academy. Will you be here for a while? Could we come back to visit?”

Although his language left something to be desired, Brunk grasped mine without difficulty. His eyelids vanished and his eyebrows raised. “Yes! Visit.” He waved one hand toward himself in a beckoning motion, but I took it to be the sign for visit instead of an actual invitation to come closer. He stepped aside, clearing the way for us to leave, but when I stooped to scoop up the books, he knelt and joined in. He stacked them evenly in Shabana’s and my arms.

When we returned to the field, I peered over my shoulder to find him standing at the mouth of the cave, watching us go.

Shabana sidled closer. “The master has this saying he likes, and I will repeat it here for it is the best representation of my sentiments.”

I nodded, although her words confused me a bit.

“Holy crap.”

“I haven’t heard that one,” I said. “An interesting utterance.”

“The right utterance. Our foundation used to come under attack by all manner of possessed minions during a conflict between the master and a demon underlord. Hmm. I’m saying more than I should. Suffice it to say, I never laid eyes on a creature such as Brunk, even then. Nor during our migrations in the north.”

When I considered the secrets I kept from her, I didn’t dare ask about the shroud her people cast over the master of their foundation, so I remained focused on Brunk. “Me, either. Such an intimidating form, but he seemed really… sweet.”

“Gentle is a better description, I think.”

I shook my head. “If you’d seen him break that wolf’s back when he saved me, you wouldn’t choose that word.”

Without looking back, Shabana lowered her voice so I could barely hear it above the rustling, high grass blowing around our robes in an easy breeze. “He’s following us.” Her words gave me a jolt, and I almost glanced over my shoulder, but the mishon stopped me. “Don’t look. He’s keeping his distance. I think he’s watching for danger because of your encounter with the wolf.”

“Oh. How could you hear him?”

“Your ears become sharp when you rely on them for survival.”

“I imagine that’s true.” I tried to picture her former life when she migrated with her tribe from camp to camp, with no place to call home. Contrasted with my sheltered life on a farm I never left, a new respect for Shabana and her people warmed my blood.

When we opened the hidden door in the outer wall, I ventured a glance over one shoulder to spy Brunk’s hulking figure trudging away in the direction of the cave.

Shabana followed my gaze. “Yep. Watching out for us while our hands were full.”

I pulled my lower lip into my mouth and gave my head a single shake. “He seems to be alone in that cave. Now he’s made a couple friends, and he wouldn’t see them come to harm so soon after we’ve made acquaintance, would he?”

Shabana hoisted her books higher. “No, I guess he wouldn’t.” She looked down at the tomes. “These things are going to be a pain to drag up that ladder.”

“To the contrary. We’ll have help.”

“Help?”

“Yes. Roshan will certainly come to our aid. She might even get Master Welling. They long for the return of these items.”

“Why do you think they’re so determined?”

“I got the impression if these fell into the wrong hands, they could be quite dangerous. Judging from what little I’ve been able to read, I understand why. In your hands, you hold pure Shadow power.”

“No wonder I can’t stop shivering.”

The inhibitions I’d had for my first couple days at the academy peeled off all at once when I remembered how Shabana’s first—and second—instinct had been to stand between the huge rock troll and me when it moved in my direction. Hiding my true nature from someone who proved her loyalty by shielding me and risking physical harm seemed uncouth. “Funny. The tomes send warmth through my body. How the goddess uses our affinities to detect risk to the Light or power for the Shadow is… interesting.”

With some struggle, I flicked the latch on the inner door then stepped into the tunnel next to the metal bars. Shabana stopped, holding the stone doorway open with her hind quarters. “What do you mean?” One eyebrow flicked so high, I thought it might reach her hairline. “Do you have Shadow affinity?”

Now a chill swept over me as I realized my secret might disappoint her. But I’d opened the door. I nodded. “I didn’t want to be on my own among strangers. You were the only person I knew.”

Relief washed over me and the chill dissipated when Shabana smiled and shook her head in dismissal. “I’ve lived among the Shadow-blessed. Your secret needs not be a secret at all, but I will keep it if that’s what you want.” The eyebrow cocked again. “How high?”

I told her.

The books tumbled from her grasp.

28

The next morning, my eyelids drooped when I pulled the quilt off and sunlight poured onto my face through the giant windows in my room. A knock at the door brought me around. I slipped it open, peeked through the crack, then groaned. “It’s like you detect the moment I come into consciousness, Shabana.” I twisted a knuckle in my eye as the door swung open then went for my robe.

“No.” She closed the door behind her. “Class is in twenty minutes, and I didn’t want you to be late.”

“I sense a new repetition in my life.” Although I was grateful, the gratitude didn’t exactly flow. Those kinds of sentiments required at least five minutes of wakefulness.

“You look exhausted.” The mishon clucked her tongue. “Looli keep you late last night?”

I shook my head. “I was up studying some notes I’d made from one of the grimoires.”

“You took notes?”

One of my cheeks tightened and, although I was sure the expression presented as childish, I didn’t care. “Of course I took notes. I’m trying to learn things, and something tells me the academy is going to drag us along slower than I’d anticipated.”

“This is why you stowed all those materials in the cave. You wanted a head start.”

“Head start. Hmm. I like this phrase.”

Shabana flashed me a sideways smile. “I don’t know why I ever got involved with you. You’re going to be trouble.”

I shrugged my frayed robe to get the seams aligned with my shoulders then gave it a quick tug. “And how would I make trouble for you?”

“Just call it an intuition.”

“I could as easily call it paranoia.”

Shabana snatched my staff from the wall behind the door then slid it into the sheath on my back. She gave my shoulder a quick squeeze, and I found I enjoyed the simple display of camaraderie.

“What rotation are we on again?”

“Today is Intro, then Stamina,” she replied.

My eyes widened. “Oooh. I like intro.”

“That,” she said as she pulled the door wider and gestured me through, “is because you are a nerd.”

“What on Solara’s plane is a nerd?”

“I sometimes forget the vernacular that traverses the foundation isn’t known to the outside.” Her shoulders dropped, then she exhaled through pursed lips. “It really is a world unto itself.”

“You said this foundation was… what was the word? You know, segmented from the rest of the world?”

Shabana’s eyebrows stitched together as her forehead assumed deep wrinkles. “Huh?” Realization waved over her features. “Ah. Instance.”

“Why that word?” Shabana fell in beside me, equaling my gait as we pressed up the hallway.

“It’s not going to be easy to understand. It took me a while.”

“Then you should be able to explain it… if you’re allowed.”

Her head twisted around, and she shot me a one-eyed glare of suspicion. “You give the sense our secrecy bothers you.”

I pinched my lips and cocked one of my eyebrows in reply.

“Okay, I could see why. Look, we trusted you with the secret, or you wouldn’t have been allowed to leave. So, it can’t hurt anything. Just don’t expect details. Fair enough?”

I nodded.

“When adventurers fight demons and beasts in dungeons, they often enter these instances.”

“So, that beautiful place is some kind of dungeon? This doesn’t make sense.”

“Are you going to let me explain?”

“Sorry.” I waved a conciliatory hand. “Please.”

Our sandals clopped down the spiral staircase at the end of the hall closest to the library entrance. Shabana’s fingers grazed the rail in contrast to my death grip. Something about the twisting stairs made me dizzy.

“There is one such place in the Plague Barrens. Desini and some others from the foundation adventured there before forming our home. You should hear the stories, but I can’t tell them. Maybe someday.” She raised one shoulder in a half-shrug, lending the impression my lack of information wasn’t so vital to her wellbeing. “Solara closes off these spaces to keep Darkness at bay. Within the confines of a dungeon instance, the demons and beasts vie for supremacy, which stifles their advancement.”

“So, an ethereal prison, of a kind?”

“You’re quick as a whip. Except, that’s not quite right. The instances are their domains. And there are many different versions of them, with mirror images of the same beasts.”

Although I knew each word on its own, the way she combined them made no sense. “Huh?”

“If you understand the concept of ethereal planes, then you should grasp this.” Her tone was near chiding. “I could enter one instance and fight the creatures there. You could gather a separate party, but if you entered, you would be in a mirror world, not where I am. You must be in the same party.”

“So, if I walked into an instance now, you could come in because we are in a party.”

Shabana nodded as we crossed the threshold into the library. “Exactly. The goddess separates the instances so parties can focus on their conquests.”

“But why? Wouldn’t greater numbers allow them to more easily conquer the dungeon?”

Shabana shook her head, then she stopped and nodded. “Yes and no. Large parties are called raids. Instances with more dangerous creatures than a simple party of four or five can handle allow for more party members. But once the number goes past five, a raid is created. Then the raid leader can sort the groups into smaller segments to work together.”

“In her mind wind—in her interface?”

Shabana smiled at my usage but didn’t mention it. “Right.”

“Does anyone know why the goddess would create copies of such places?”

“Only theories, really. You remember Guiles? The elf?”

“Yes, the one who brought me a candle the morning we came to the academy.”

“Right. The way he explains it, the Plague Barrens instance was created millennia ago to contain some of the demons who carried the blight over the ancient elven city of Ninn and sent its residents fleeing to the north. A great number, though not all, were imprisoned. And many dangerous beasts still roam the lands.”

We passed the library’s central desk, and an attendant with close cropped hair on the sides peered over a pair of spectacles at us. Shabana waved with a few loose fingers and waited until we were out of earshot to continue.

“Now, at that time, adventuring was a much more common lifestyle. When a special breed of adventurers appeared, there were more of them than there were opportunities to advance.”

My mouth dropped open with realization. “So, the goddess created these mirrors of the places to build an army to fight demon kind.”

“Something like that. Not exactly, but close enough.”

“Where did these people come from?”

“This, I cannot tell you.”

“What? Why not?”

Shabana stopped in the hallway and met my gaze. “If we are to be comrades, there are things you have to accept. One is that I cannot tell you everything you want to know. I have people to protect. People I love. People who have given our pride a home. Never will I betray them with loose lips, and I require your acknowledgment you will not pry into my head to find out. You will know what you need to know when the time comes or never. I don’t control these things. Do you understand?”

Taken aback, I peered both directions then nodded. “Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be annoying.”

“I’m just setting expectations, Tess.”

“Can you tell me what you call these people who flooded the countryside in search of adventure?”

“I don’t suppose that could hurt. They were called Shénhuà, or Mythics. But that’s all I will say.”

I made a quick note in my interface to search the library for Shénhuà then nodded. “Thank you, Shabana. I’m glad you’re here to tell me these things.”

To my utter surprise, she wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulled me in, then kissed my temple. “You’re welcome. Now, let’s go nerd out.”

“Nerd out?”

She sighed as we stepped across the classroom’s threshold. “Let it go.”

Shabana took the lead, but she stopped about halfway up the stairs, and I almost bumped into her. I followed her gaze to find two figures sitting in the seats adjacent to the ones we used before.

Johin Tir wore a stony expression, his piercing eyes locked so hard on Shabana, one might think she’d punched him in the nose. When Elren Xen saw me peek around Shabana, his lips creased into a smile that revealed no teeth.

The mishon turned. “Come. We’ll sit somewhere else.”

I clenched my back teeth, but let my expression flatten. “Hokrahm’s Hell we will.” I stomped past her and up the stairs. “Looks like our seats are open.”

“Are you sure?”

I answered by trudging one thumping step at a time to our seats.

“You got my key?” Johin asked.

I played coy. “Key? What key?” When he didn’t respond, I continued. “Oh, that key. Nope. Still rusting in the elements north of town. It hadn’t even occurred to me you’d be here, so thrilled was I by a day of your absence, you slipped my mind.”

“You shouldn’t annoy your betters.” He tried to goad me with his presumption of superiority, but the way he crossed his arms and rubbed them for warmth contradicted his bravado.

Elren repeated the gesture. “Chilly in here.”

Shabana shot me a knowing gaze, then smiled. “Unaccustomed are they to—”

I shook my head in nearly imperceptible quakes. They didn’t need to know about my Shadow affinity or anything more about me than they already did. As far as I was concerned, Elren and Johin hadn’t earned the privilege.

Johin dropped his hands into his lap then leaned toward me to whisper. “Just so you know, I will have the key at whatever cost Master Welling deems necessary. You crossed the wrong man.”

Master Welling?

My mentor-to-be was the owner of the key? What did that mean? Had I somehow misjudged him? I shook my head and cleared the thought. Master Welling would’ve given Johin the key to the basement no sooner than he would’ve given it to a child. But if Johin wanted to play games…

“Then I will take the key to Master Welling.”

Johin jerked. His head whipped around, then he leaned in again wearing a toothy expression indicating his intent to growl. But then Master Mizwel Durring lurched into the room. A cane tapped the floor before each pair of sliding steps. I wondered how old he was.

Johin retreated, his lips pinched into a thin white line. “You know not who you trifle with.”

I didn’t know if he referenced himself or Master Welling, but somehow I felt safer with the latter. After all, the Shadow magician knew my potential and embraced it. But Johin Tir didn’t know that, and my mind suddenly wandered into thought about how I could use that to my advantage.

“But I do know it isn’t Master Welling.”

Master Durring greeted us. “Good morning.” The class muttered replies in a chorus. “Please open your interfaces but not your texts. Today’s lessons will be practical in nature.”

I brought up my mind window and stared at the tabs across the top, wondering where he’d take us.

“First, let’s view the information on your Home tab. Next to the real-time picture of yourselves I know you all adore are your primary stats and a short readout of any occupational skills you’ve learned.

I viewed the page.

Contessa of Millbury

Level 5 Human

(No Class Selected)

Attributes:

Strength: 14

Dexterity: 3

Intelligence: 7 (1)

Wisdom: 2

Constitution: 20

Charisma: 6

Combat Skills:

Melee Attack: 4

Melee Defense: 6 (2)

Weapon Skills:

Staff: 10

Occupational Skills:

Augmentation: 1

Carpentry: 6

Rune Crafting: 11

General Skills:

Survival: 4

Locate Traps: 3

Magic Schools:

Light Magic: 2

Shadow Magic: 0

Nature Magic: 0

Status Effects:

Affinities

Languages:

All Neutral and Lawful

Learned Languages:

Common

Elven

Magic Affinities:

Potential: 100%

Light: 25%

Shadow: 91%

I noted the increase to Melee Defense from the charm worn around my neck, as well as the increase in my Light affinity—which I assumed resulted from my use of Inner Illumination. When taken in the context of all these other statistics, the whole seemed overwhelming. Maybe the scrolls could only do so much if I wanted to achieve a truly rounded advancement. Then again, maybe rounded wasn’t the way to go, If I focused on the powers that best suited my affinities, I’d likely excel.

Master Durring interlocked his fingers at his waist. “Today, we’ll discuss the primary attributes and what we’ve learned about each over the ages.” Collective groans filled the room. Master Durring smiled. “Please raise your hand if you were unbound from those who raised you within the last month.”

Hands shot up, and I was surprised to find every student raised them save for a blonde young woman near the front. Master Durring nodded as if he’d anticipated this.

“The goddess saw fit to limit your advancement in this world until you came of an age to be responsible for it. In return for her wisdom, you groaners adopt the position that you know all you need to about your attributes.” He raised one finger. “But you overlook the most important aspect of life at the academy, an aspect you must understand in order to achieve high marks and advancement.” He paused, perhaps for dramatic effect. “You know nothing!”

A few jerked at his harsh utterance, and his voice reverberated around the sprawling space.

“You were selected to be the first class at Warrington Academy because you were still bound when we found you. Any skills you learned were wiped clean when you became unbound, but luckily, your proficiency in them will earn you additional skill points when you relearn the occupations or associated combat methodologies.”

“Why would the goddess take what we’ve learned as children from us?” a girl asked. “What sense does this make?”

Master Durring raised his shoulders and lifted his hands so his palms faced the slanted ceiling. “Why don’t you ask her then see what answer comes?” He stared at her for a long moment, but his expression was soft. Relaxed. “We should all be thankful only our skill points and not our attributes reset.”

“Now that we’ve got that bit of realization into your heads, shall we learn something, or would you rather debate Solara’s wisdom?” When no one answered he gave a single, curt nod. “While you’ll see not every attribute has clear-cut statistics, we’ve designed our curriculum to focus on what we do know and pass that knowledge on to you.” He paced the length of the wide counter as he spoke, then turned to pace the other way when he reached the end.

“For our purposes, you can set eyes on your interface and reduce the readout to only your primary attributes. Do this now.”

I did.

Attributes:

Strength: 14

Dexterity: 3

Intelligence: 6

Wisdom: 4 (2)

Constitution: 20

Charisma: 6

I wondered why my father bothered with my education if it only resulted in an Intelligence of six. That seemed low, but I had nothing to compare it with. Instead of taking a moment to think about it, I blurted a question.

“When we analyze our compatriots, why do we only see power rankings and the like instead of attributes and skills?”

Master Durring raised one hand, but continued pacing. “A fine question we will come to when we discuss Wisdom.”

Wisdom? Why not intellect?

I decided not to voice those questions out loud.

Despite a Wisdom score of two, his next words proved I hadn’t miscalculated by keeping them to myself. “Again, class. The first portion of instruction is a lecture. Save your questions for the twenty minutes at the end, and you will find many have been answered.

“We will spend most of our time discussing the attributes most affecting magicians, although I’m sure the Templar’s academy up north takes a different approach. But we won’t ignore the less-critical attributes, either. It’s imperative you leave this class at the end of a semester understanding how each attribute can affect you in combat situations.

“So, let’s start at the top, shall we?” He stopped and levitated onto the center of the counter. “Everyone in this room was born with one point in every attribute. When you received your second Strength point, you were able to deadlift five pounds. While the calculations surrounding many functions of the various attributes are inexact, this is one of which we’re certain.

“For each added point of Strength, one can lift about twelve additional pounds. But at rank twenty, each point allots only five additional pounds. Now, let’s put those minds to work. You’re welcome to use your interfaces to figure this, but who can tell me the maximum deadlift weight of someone with a Strength attribute of twenty?”

My mind raced to form the calculation.

No poundage at birth. Five pounds at rank 2, then add seventeen ranks times 12 pounds per to reach the total at rank nineteen. That’s 209. The diminishing return at rank 20 was five pounds per attribute point.

“Two hundred and fourteen pounds,” I said.

Master Durring raised his crooked finger again. “Correct!”

Elren covered his mouth with one hand and muttered, “Boot licker.”

It seemed I’d been demoted from boot shiner. I pinched my lips together but didn’t respond and ensured my focus remained locked on our teacher.

“But just because you can deadlift a heavy pack doesn’t mean you should. For each pound over half your maximum lifting potential, you receive an encumbrance penalty of 1% per minute. When that penalty totals 50%, you will lose 10 Stamina per minute. This is a single reason one of three classes you attend is dedicated to this vital secondary attribute.”

At first, it struck me as odd that he’d call something so important ‘secondary,’ but when I remembered Stamina was most influenced by one’s Constitution—at a rate of eight Stamina per Constitution point earned or spent—it made sense.

“Strength also reduces the damage inflicted by melee attacks when mitigated by using a shield. Who can tell me why it’s important that student in the Light School of Magic would want to understand the effects of Strength and Constitution?”

The blonde elven woman up front responded. “It’s critical as a healer to understand the limitations of those you heal. Since our tanks will more often than not rely primarily on Strength and Constitution, a better comprehension of these attributes will serve us in serving them.”

“My. I have a sharp contingent before me, today. Very good.” He gave his curt nod. “While I’d argue Constitution and Stamina are more important for your understanding of your frontline fighter’s abilities and hinderances, you will inevitably find yourself trying to decide whether to heal another party member based on whether or not your fighter can hold an enemy at bay for a few seconds.” He scanned the room, waiting for nods of understanding, then continued.

“Next is Dexterity. Please note the following so we can push through. Each point increases ranged attack power and ranged accuracy with non-magical weapons, as well as the chance to dodge. At skill level 2, dodge chance is one-percent. But for each additional point, dodge is increased by half a percent. Even then, the skill is diminished when fighting higher level enemies. We will not go into the math there during this term, as it's largely dependent on the level gap between combatants and many other factors. This isn't actually a mathematics class, and your speed with arithmetic won’t benefit you in the intense throes of combat.” He winked an eye. “You should also know that classes in the Assassin progression line receive damage bonuses per point of Dexterity in the way frontline fighters benefit per point of Strength. Hopefully, you’ll spend less time healing them.”

Master Durring went on to cover the other attributes, but it took longer than expected. No one dared interrupt to ask questions.

Until Elren Xen did. To his credit, he raised a hand. When I contrasted him with the blunter personality his friend displayed, I knew Johin would’ve just blurted it out.

“In regard to Intelligence, how does it affect the ability to weave?”

Master Durring’s expression slackened. His shoulders rose, held for a moment, then dropped. Then his facial muscles tightened into a forced smile. “Intelligence can help any crafter to hone their skills, but somehow I don’t believe you’re asking about sewing garments.”

I allowed my head the slightest swivel, just enough to see the knowing expression on Elren’s face. I sensed his pleasure that the instructor didn’t want to discuss the topic, but I didn’t understand why that was so.

“Mana Weaving is not a topic of our curriculum. And for good reason. It’s an ancient practice given little credibility, and what’s more, only Shadow casters of the highest affinities could venture attempts at commanding such power.”

“But why hide it from us if it’s something we might face someday?” Johin asked in support of his friend’s query.

“The implication I shroud anything from you is unappreciated, young Johin. Despite your paternity, you should endeavor to mind your tone.”

“A little touchy about it, aren’t you?”

Master Durring cast his levitation spell and settled softly onto his sandals. He strode to the right-hand column of stairs then peered up at us. In that moment, I wished I’d listened to Shabana and taken other seats so we weren’t considered pariahs by our proximity to the young men on either side of us.

“Mister Tir, what is your Shadow Magic affinity?”

“What? Why do you—”

Master Durring barked, “Answer!”

Johin lowered his voice. “Four.”

Durring raised a hand to one ear even though he’d already illustrated his strong sense of hearing in our first class. “Speak up so all can hear.”

“Four!”

“Ah. I fear there will be no Mana Weaving for you, Mister Tir.”

Rumbles of laughter filled the class. Johin’s face swelled as blood filled his cheeks. He bit his next words. “But that has no bearing on how we might someday face such a magician on the opposite side of the fighting line.”

“You forgot my words. Ancient practice? Little credibility? Besides, you miss the more crucial point.” Durring crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yeah?” Johin pressed. “And what’s that?”

“If you ever come into contact with one so powerful they can tap into the lava lines deep in the earth to cast in real-time, there is only one viable contrasting tactic.”

“Yeah?” Johin echoed himself. “And what is that, Master Durring.”

I couldn’t believe the nerve on the half-boy sitting there with a proud smirk on his face, and the sudden urge to knock it off with one end of my staff because of how he disrespected our master brought me to dig my fingernails into my palms.

But Master Durring’s next words drained the tension away. “Should you ever have the misfortune to come across a being of such outrageous Shadow magic affinity—of whom I know none—your choice is simple.” He paused and gave a slow scan of the other students until a few leaned forward in their chairs, anticipating the sage advice to come. Master Durring’s bushy eyebrows furrowed and deep wrinkles creased his forehead. “Run like Hokrahm himself aims to set your ass on fire, boy.”

29

After his performance in class, I’d decided it was time to remove any reason for Johin Tir to associate with me. So I rushed toward my dormitory room after promising to meet up with Shabana in time for our Stamina class. The sooner that key was out of my possession, the better. And considering the study in the bowels beneath the academy had been cleared of the tomes and scrolls, there was no harm in returning it. Although I wondered about his assertion Master Welling was they key’s owner, and I was tempted to return the key to him myself to test it, I was ready to be done with it. Johin would be in my next class, and the problem would be instantly solved.

Who knew? Maybe his stress over the item would teach him not to play tricks on others. But I doubted it.

As I crossed through the library, I reviewed the entries I’d added to my Notes tab as Master Durring had progressed through his lecture. I was amazed at what gifts our interfaces were. I wondered what life might be like without them.

Not worth living, I’m sure.

With the key in hand, I hustled back down the hall, down the staircase, through the library to its back doors, then into the open field where my fellow students gathered. Four wooden posts with a pair of cross beams stood there like the scarecrows in our fields back home.

Why would they have those?

The bases of the objects disappeared into the grassy soil. I focused on one.

Training Target

These solid oak targets are used for combat training. Slits in the middle allow them to spin when the arms are struck.

Shabana appeared next to me and I cocked a chin toward one of the dummies. “That’s neat. They spin so when you strike them, the arms come back around and you can practice blocking. They must be great for coordination.”

She raised her shoulder in a half-shrug. “I’ve never used this kind. The ones at the foundation barracks are stationary. Mayhap I’ll mention them to our master-at-arms. If they function like you suggest, I’m sure he’d find them useful for solo practice.”

Loud clicks and clacks brought my head around, and I spied Elren and Johin striking the high arms of the targets. I squinted to focus. Elren struck fiercely at one arm then it spun in a blur. In response, Johin clutched his staff vertically and swung it across his body so the wooden beam struck between his hands and recoiled.

“You have not been given permission to strike those targets!” a voice bellowed from behind the onlookers. Master Joren Renard pushed through the students. “Pardon me.” Then he approached the boys. He gazed at each of them in turn. “Join your classmates.” Although Elren’s expression didn’t change, Johin sneered when his back was turned to the instructor. Our eyes met for the briefest glimpse. I tapped the key in the pocket of my robe.

“Welcome back to Constitutional Development.” The lanky elf’s hands settled on his hips, and the way he talked with absolutely no use of them struck me as strange. Most of the people I’d experienced since leaving the farm used their hands for emphasis, but neither he nor the one who’d brought me the candle, Prince Guiles, had. A memory of Brunk’s constant hand movements to accentuate the grunts that passed for the common tongue brought a brief smile to my lips. Master Renard’s hand swung out. “Everyone will run six laps to warm up. The sooner you get started, the sooner we can proceed. Secure your weapons and move.”

After collective sighs, we set off. Shabana passed up the opportunity to jog with our professor, instead limiting her pace and striding next to me. Elren and Johin jogged up beside us, but she waved them forward. “Keep moving. You cannot intimidate us.” Elren shot her a toothy smile then jogged ahead.

Johin jogged closer. “When you return my key, perhaps we’ll leave you be.”

“Perhaps?” I growled.

He spoke easily, his breathing steady as he ran. “There are no guarantees in this life, and everyone could see from day one that you’re trouble. You think I don’t know why I shiver when I’m close to you?” He jogged next to me, awaiting a response, but I adopted a stony gaze and jogged on. “If you want to keep your little secret, you’ll return the key.”

I’d about had enough of his bullying. “Your key will do you little good since they’ve cleared out the study.”

“Study?” His head cocked back as he ran. “Why do you call it a study?”

Could it be word of the tomes and scrolls hadn’t reached him? For what other purpose could he want the key if he wasn’t aware of the contents? If Master Welling was the true owner, did that mean Johin had stolen it?

“Tell me. If Master Welling owns this key, how did you come to possess it?”

The gaunt boy who’d introduced himself as Harbon jogged past. He cast me a warning glance then continued on, although I could see he strained with the effort by the way his chest rose and fell.

Johin’s lips pinched into a tight white line. When he spoke, his words came in a low grumble. “That’s none of your concern, farm girl. Unless you want your secret Shadow affinity getting out and increasing the suspicion already surrounding you, you will return the key. Continue to play games with me, and I’ll make you wish you left the academy. Perhaps I’ll have you expelled.”

“Your delusions are remarkable.” I sprinted ahead, the key thumping against my hip. Shabana kept pace as easily as I expected. When Johin jogged forward, we sped up until the three of us passed Elren in a full-on sprint. My Stamina bar dipped ten percent in just a few heartbeats, but I wasn’t about to slow my pace.

Moments later, the master lapped us. He cast a suspicious glance back at Johin then me but continued forward without a word. The elven student I’d noted running with him before carried her pace to match his.

When my Stamina dropped to twenty percent and the yellow bar blinked red, I slowed my jog. Johin dropped back and jogged next to Elren. His gaze burned into the back of my sweating neck, but I didn’t venture a glance. Intimidation was the man-boy’s default, and I’d had enough of it.

Master Joren called us toward the training targets. We formed a semicircle around him. Most clutched their knees with their hands.

He scanned the crowd. “Breathe deeply. So many of you are in such poor condition, you couldn’t run across a battlefield, much less fight. Maintaining your Stamina is imperative to your survival in conflict, and you never know when one of Rubal’s dangers will rise to challenge you. We live in tumultuous times, class, and building up your Stamina takes time and effort. So, today, you’ll learn how to fight when you’re tired.”

He twisted to gesture at the dummies lined up near the shed. “Five combat targets stand before you. Much like Elren and Johin, you will team up in pairs and strike them together.” He slipped the staff off his back and went to one of the dummies. “Miss Shen, will you assist me?”

“Yes, Master Renard.” The elven woman with the tight blonde braids jogged toward him, unsheathing her staff in an easy motion while striding. She stood with her back rod straight as she faced the opposite side of the target. Master Renard struck the upper arm. “First you strike high then your partner blocks the arm while you strike low.” He swung at the low arm, and Shen blocked the high arm. She brought her staff toward her as she made contact so the arm came to a dead stop. “Your partner will block the lower arm, bring it to a stop, and you will attack the upper arm in the opposite direction.” She stopped the low arm with the section of staff beneath her bottom hand while he struck the top again. “Repeat until you gain an attribute or skill point of any kind, then step out and let someone take your place. At that time, your partner will switch from attacking to blocking. Any questions?” When none came, he waved an open hand toward the row of targets. “Pick your own partner then line up in pairs.”

Shabana gripped my hand and dragged me toward one of the targets. “Let’s get it done. You will gain more Stamina if you work while you’re tired. Trust me.” Although my chest still rose and fell desperately as I gulped shallow breaths of air, I followed her lead. She struck the top arm, then I brought my staff up in a two-handed grip and made contact. But when my weapon struck wood, the pole shimmied and slowly spun back toward my partner.

Master Renard stepped forward and shooed me to the side. Then he stopped the lower arm Shabana had struck. “You must bring the weapon toward yourself to allow for recoil. Although it seems counterintuitive, pivoting your body out of the way of an attack is much more effective than trying to block a stronger opponent’s.” He nodded toward Shabana, and she struck the top pole. It swung around, then the elf stepped to the side and gave a little as the arm came around. It came to an almost dead stop. He repeated on the lower arm by sliding the staff down in his grip, planting it in the grass, then leaning it slightly to one side. Although the lower arm shimmied, it recoiled less. “It’s not a perfect art, but we’re trying to build your Stamina and Dexterity. If you’re lucky, you’ll even receive a point of Strength now and again.”

He stepped back, then I resumed my place. We swung. High, then low. Over and again, I failed to bring the arm to a stop, but the instructor spoke words of encouragement. Soon, the higher arm stopped as intended. Then I focused on the strange coordination required for me to repeat it on the lower arm. A white light glowed through my pores and a system message appeared. I expected to see a Stamina increase, but was pleasantly surprised instead.

Your Dexterity attribute has been increased by 1.

Your Dexterity attribute has increased to rank 4.

Your Dodge chance has increased to 1.5%.

“Very nice, Contessa of Millbury. Now step away and let someone else have your position.”

I slipped away, giddy with the excitement that washed over me, but the sensation cooled when Johin stepped past me and lined up on the other side of the target. I shot a warning glance at Shabana, but I didn’t know why. She shrugged it off, and after I’d seen her swinging the staff in duel combat with me, I understood why. Shabana could take care of herself.

The two beat at the dummy in slow, steady motions, with Johin acting as striker, and Shabana blocking. The arm recoiled as it had with me, but she quickly adapted. Soon, she was bringing the poles to dead stops, both high and low. Johin sped his pace, striking high and low, faster and faster. “Come on, keep up.”

I sneered.

Shabana blocked high, then thrust her staff down to block the lower arm. The pace was now frenetic, and bringing it to a stop proved impossible. She grunted, and sweat poured from her forehead. Although I hadn’t considered it before, the high Stamina evident by the way she ran so easily and fast would make it more difficult for her to gain an attribute or Stamina rank. But I took solace in how her breaths still came long and deep.

Master Renard stepped in. “Stop.” The two stood straight. “You will not learn proper form by rushing through the exercise. Mister Tir, slow your attacks. Be purposeful.” He shot Johin a warning glare. “Unless there’s something going on here that requires mediation, then we can meet after class and run some more. Do either of you desire that outcome?” He glanced between them, but I knew his words were directed at the attacker. Shabana had done nothing wrong. “Good. Now, practice.”

Johin slammed the arm of the target with the high end of his staff, then swung low. Shabana blocked both, then her flesh flashed. The master pointed toward the line of waiting students and the mishon exited, casting a final glare at her training partner.

More than an hour later, the last person in the class received an upgrade. Then the master told us to form a wide circle so the fingertips of our outstretched arms could touch the shoulder of the person beside us.

“Now that you’ve warmed up, it’s time to apply what you’ve learned.”

“Warmed up?” I mouthed at Shabana. Her shoulders jostled with a silent giggle.

The collective sound this time came as a groan and Master Renard smiled. “If you’re discouraged, we must be doing it right. I have created a list of students so I can pick your pairings at random.” His eyes shot left and right as he read his interface.

I leaned toward Shabana. “You can do that in your mind window?”

Shabana rolled her eyes. “My goodness. I forget how little you know.”

“I’m not sure I like the way you delivered those words.”

“Sorry. I’ll show you later.”

Whether by fate or folly, Master Renard chose Elren Xen and me to pair up first. He stepped into the center of the circle then turned his gaze on me. A smile swept across his features as he lowered his chin and stared up at me from just beneath his eyebrows. Then the smile vanished as quickly as it had come.

Elren Xen spun his staff over his hand, swept it behind his back as it twirled in a blur, then completed the motion with rolls over the opposite hand. Then the staff stopped dead across his chest.

I recognized the way he rolled his staff with easy motions as an attempt at intimidation, and if I had to admit its effect out loud, I would’ve been embarrassed. But I refused to show it. I slid my staff out of its sheath and struggled to keep it from trembling.

Master Renard stood equidistant from us and off to one side. “The rules are as follows. You will swing your weapons in the same manner as when you practiced on the targets. You may attack either shoulder and either knee, and you can do so in any order. As we learn new strikes, they will be incorporated into your practice. For now, focus on what your muscles remember. You may forfeit at any time, and anyone breaking the rules and using unsanctioned strikes will be forced to forfeit.”

I analyzed Elren with successive winks.

Elren Xen

Level 7 Human

(No Class Selected)

Melee Power Rating: 13

Melee Defense Rating: 11

Ranged Power Rating: 2

Ranged Defense Rating: 7

Magic Power Rating: 3

Magic Defense Rating: 7

The numbers might as well have been high-level elven runes for what little practical knowledge I could decipher. Without a fair source of comparison, they’d remain a mystery to me. Since my stats didn’t appear the same as the ones I saw when I analyzed others, I was left confused.

But then realization occurred that anything I’d tried to do when arranging my interface to my liking had worked so far. So I conjured a thought as I stared at my own stats.

Convert.

My stats converted instantly shifted from:

Strength: 14

Dexterity: 4

Intelligence: 6

Wisdom: 4 (2)

Constitution: 20

Charisma: 6

To:

Melee Power Rating: 18

Melee Defense Rating: 8

Ranged Power Rating: 2

Ranged Defense Rating: 3

Magic Power Rating: 19

Magic Defense Rating: 23

I scanned the comparison in a hurry. I was likely the stronger of us. But we wielded staves, and that might not be as helpful when his started twirling his too fast for me to follow. My Magic Power and Magic Defense Ratings forced me to suppress an eyelids flare. Why were they so much higher than his?

The answer came as quickly as the question.

Your affinity. Remember how surprised Roshan and Master Welling were by your potential, as well.

I didn’t have time to figure out how my defense rating applied, and the rest of the stats were equally confusing without adequate time to analyze them in a quiet room.

But what I could do was compare them to his, then try to use what knowledge that lent to fight him off.

Our elven master dipped his chin. “Elren, you may offer the challenge.”

Elren Xen has challenged you to a duel.

Do you accept?

Yes/No

I was about to focus on Yes when another message appeared on parchment to the side.

You are being offered a quest.

Defeat Elren

Win a duel against Elren Xen.

Reward: 1,000 XP

You will be awarded a runic scroll that will allow you to learn a random class-agnostic spell.

Do you accept this quest?

Yes/No

A spell? Free magic?

I paused, considering both questions in my interface. Before I accepted either, I set the little bar filled with red liquid representing my health on the top left side of my interface. Then I detached my stat window, became pleasantly surprised when I learned I could shrink it with a simple thought, and pushed it beneath the meter. I added my remaining health at the bottom so I could track it in real time.

Constitution: 20

Hit Points: 232

After that, I accepted the duel. Circles of orange light painted the ground beneath our feet, just like when I’d dueled Shabana days before. I accepted the quest.

When I matched my gaze with Elren’s, there was no sign of the smile he’d worn before. His jaw ticked, indicating he clenched his back teeth. Before I could set my weight onto my back foot, he engaged.

His hands clutched his weapon about a foot apart near the center. He stepped to the side and began pacing around me, his eyes locked on mine. I struggled to match his gaze, and the unnatural movement made me aware he wanted to put me off kilter. Set me on my back foot. After half a revolution, I stopped turning and stepped to the side to block his path.

Elren’s staff came around in a blur and struck my right shoulder before I had time to respond. Pain erupted up the side of my neck as I thrusted my own weapon in my defense and whiffed the air.

Elren strikes with his Acolyte’s Staff.

Hit!

-11 HP

221 HP remaining.

The next strike whipped around from the other end of his weapon, but when I went to protect that shoulder, it swept low and struck the side of my knee with a hollow clank. I cried out and hopped on the other leg. But when he came around for another strike on the opposite side, his shoulder dipped, telegraphing a low strike. I leapt into the air and his weapon passed under me. When I landed, the knee he’d struck throbbed. Out of instinct to protect that side I brought my staff around and popped Elren in the shoulder before he could raise his staff from its errant path to defend himself. It clanked against a bone atop his shoulder then his arm went limp.

You strike Elren with your Acolyte’s Staff.

Elren Xen

-11 HP

229 HP remaining

You Staff skill has reached rank 11.

In our previous class, I’d come to understand the first point of Constitution equated to 80 HP, and each additional point added 8. If my Constitution was 20 and that awarded me 232 HP, and I struck to remove 11 of Elren’s leaving him with 229…

My interface answered the calculation no sooner than the thought had traversed my brain space.

The answer is 21.

So, now I knew Elren Xen’s Constitution was one point higher than mine, and although I wondered what he’d done to earn it, the blur of his staff coming around for another strike sent the thoughts packing. Knowing I’d never duck the blow, I rolled to the ground. Although I’d intended to let my momentum bring me back to my feet, I was anything but practiced in the tumbling arts and soon found myself on my duff. Elren pressed his advantage.

Charging to stand over me, he whipped the staff around. Out of pure luck, I thrust out my own and blocked the shoulder shot while wondering why our instructor hadn’t stopped the exercise since I was no longer on my feet.

I brought my staff around with all the might I could muster from the ground and a hollow thunk sounded when it made impact with the side of Elren’s knee. He lost 14 HP, and I realized I’d done more damage than with my previous attack.

Note to self, knees are good.

When he dipped to favor the knee, I brought the other side of my staff around and struck the other. Nine more HP. Elren retreated, limping backward. I used the respite to gain my feet, then pursued. A heat rose in my neck as I pressed a flurry of attacks, planning to use my Melee Power advantage against him and have this done.

I struck a shoulder with a short swing.

You strike Elren with your Acolyte’s Staff.

Elren Xen

-15 HP

214 HP remaining

Your Staff Skill has reached rank 12.

I recovered four HP as I pressed forward, striking high on one side, low on the other. Elren’s eyes widened with focus and he blocked the incoming strikes, but I considered every step he took backward a victory. The heat in my neck bloomed. I half-swung my staff, and when he drew his to block, I reversed the attack and caught him hard in one knee.

You strike Elren with your Acolyte’s Staff.

Elren Xen

-11 HP

203 HP remaining

You have learned a new Combat Skill!

Feint

Fake an attack in one direction to draw your enemy’s defense, then reverse the motion and strike for 1.5 times normal damage.

Chance of Critical Hit increased by 2% when successfully using Feint.

Your Staff skill has reached rank 13.

I barely had time to scan the message if I wanted to press my advantage further, and I’d just become aware of a sudden surge of hot energy flowing through my arms with each successive swing. It burned bright in me, and my attacks became smoother yet more violent. Elren blocked desperately, fighting me off, until he reached the line of students behind him and had nowhere to run. He slipped to one side, but I stepped to block him. Shock arrested his face as I brought my staff back and swung with all my might.

But when that end of my weapon rose into my view, a glowing red tracer followed its arc across the air. When Elren blocked, it flashed.

Your Staff skill has reached rank 14.

Your Staff skill has reached rank 15.

Your Staff skill has reached rank 16.

“What the—” He twisted, leveled his weapon over one shoulder, then slammed the tip into the bridge of my nose.

A bright white flash accompanied a warm gush of crimson streaming down my face. I reeled then folded to the ground. The heat rushed from my arms, leaving a chill in its wake, then a violent shiver erupted at the base of my spine and crept to my neck, sending a shockwave of electric tendrils across my back.

“Halt!” Master Renard called. He adopted a level tone. “Mister Xen, you will forfeit the duel.”

“But she cheated! She used magic!”

“Tess used the approved strikes throughout the conflict. You used one I haven’t allowed. Staff punches are illegal. You will forfeit.”

The bridge of my nose shrieked in persistent spasms as blood flowed through my fingers. Master Renard gripped my bicep then effortlessly hauled me to my feet. My eyes blinked involuntary tears, and his blurry features appeared before me as he pulled me close then reached for my hand. I resisted at first, then let him move it so he could assess the damage. “Tess, you’ve completed class for the day and are excused.”

Elren Xen has forfeited your duel.

You have completed a quest!

Defeat Elren

Win a duel against Elren Xen.

Reward: 1,000 XP

A golden flash of light surrounded me then funneled into the sky. A matching number 6 exploded into view before my eyes then zipped into the distance until it shrunk to nothing.

Congratulations!

You have reached level 6!

Since you have not chosen a class, your attribute points are assigned to Constitution.

+ 2 Constitution

You are awarded one elective attribute point.

You have five elective points to spend.

You must visit an attributes trainer to spend these attribute points.

You have learned—

The pain in my nose ceased, leaving only ghosts of the torment behind, then the wound sewed together in a split second. I pulled out my exercise shirt and peered down only to find sweat and no trace of the blood that should have pooled there. I wondered if my clothing lacked the remnants because I’d leveled or because the injury had been sustained in a duel. I suspected the latter.

Shabana grabbed my arm. “You leveled!”

“You saw it?”

“We are still in a party. Besides, when you’re in a town, everyone can see.”

I peered over my shoulder to find the whole class lined up, staring back at me, one or two pointing.

“Guess I don’t need to go see Roshan.”

Johin and Elren stood near the back of the group, and although I couldn’t make out their expressions at this distance, the low way their heads hung so as to hide their faces spoke volumes. Even with my limited exposure to people when I lived on the farm, I could read their expressions. And they didn’t reflect dejection. Anger flowed through their veins, and I would have to watch my back like never before.

Shabana followed my gaze. “What was with your staff glowing like that?”

“I have no idea.”

She stared at me until I brought my head around and matched her gaze. The straight line of her lips seemed foreign on her face when compared to their natural upward tilt at the corners. Shabana glanced back at the crowd, but I knew her focus had gone to the same subjects I’d watched a moment earlier. “Something tells me you’d better figure it out.” She pressed the back of one hand to my face. “You’re burning up again.”

30

Before I donned the clothes Roshan had given me, I bathed in cool water and waited for the strange heat coursing through my body to dissipate. My hands trembled as I slipped into the tub.

I decided to report to Looli’s early, and she welcomed me. A long line of patrons queued across the road so passersby had to squeeze through. It wasn’t lost on me that the time spent here concocting meals that buffed stats served a purpose many benefitted from. But the appearance of the line snaking its way across the thoroughfare brought a new revelation.

Things are getting bad.

Was there a growth in the number of renegades who’d left the former governor’s mansion after his dethroning and formed bands to pillage the country? Or were demons like the ones who sought out our farm the root cause of people taking up arms and returning to the once-declining profession of adventuring?

Something told me I’d find out soon enough. I slipped beneath the table and, to my surprise, Looli drew me in with one arm and gave me a quick, firm hug. Warmth coursed through my veins as I returned the embrace. I stepped inside. It wasn’t until I’d cleansed my hands with the crystal she kept by her basin and slipped into my chair that I returned my focus to the interface message Shabana had interrupted when I leveled.

You have learned a new agnostic spell.

Flame Bindings

Draw on the fire of Enora to ensnare up to two enemies with fiery tendrils that burst from the ground.

Type: Shadow Spell

Cost: 50 Mana

Duration: 7 Seconds

Cooldown: 15 Seconds

This spell has diminishing returns when cast against the same target in one-minute cycles.

My jaw dropped at the implications. I’d learned a spell! But how did I use it? I glanced around the room as if I’d find a target to practice upon, then I shook my head in derision. Something about the word Flame negated my momentary lapse of reason.

“Idiot,” I muttered.

When the work was done, I walked in the dark of night back toward the academy. While I wondered if I might spy master Welling in the same side alley where we’d first met, the lack of warmth as I passed by rendered the need to look moot. The way his aura touched me was unmistakable.

When my head came up and I spied the gates ahead, I reconsidered returning to my room. After the event in the field, I didn’t want to cross paths with my classmates. I didn’t know how I would deal with the apprehension when it was time to return to Foundations of Magic or Constitutional Development, but the next day promised only Carpentry for Combatants, and there were fewer students from the Light school in there.

And Elren had been banished because of his poor axe-wielding skills.

After the briefest glance at the temple, I circled back around the main building to the field where it’d all happened. When my worst fears of people teaming up on me in the wake of the day’s events came into play, I was drawn here.

I walked over to the practice targets and spun an arm with two fingers. It whirled in a blur. Then I kicked the lower pole. I repeated the gestures low and high. Then, I slipped the staff off my back, sized up my enemy, and went to work.

The staff clanked, then the top arm spun. I slipped one hand down to change my grip, then brought the arm to a stop. My accuracy tightened up as I repeated the gesture, focusing only on the high spinning arm. Soon, I was striking the pole on one side, then reversing and bringing it to a near stop.

Your staff skill has reached rank 17.

Nice!

Soon, I was lost in the activity. I switched to the low arm. It proved much more difficult to stop effectively, but I learned how to sweep the staff back in such a way as to reduce its recoil without changing my stance. For my efforts, I received 5 more ranks to the staff skill and even picked up a point to my Melee Attack Rating, bringing it to five. I studied my interface in wonderment. Would other melee weapons increase my attack rating more efficiently so it would keep pace with my staff skill?

My thoughts were interrupted when a throat cleared behind me.

I wheeled to find Master Roshan behind me. She wore a green and gold robe and held a short scepter with a globe at the tip set in shining metal. “Hello, Tess.”

“Um, hi, Master Roshan.” I bowed.

She smiled in response and gave a half-bow of her own. “I see you’re practicing. Any skill points?”

I nodded.

“You know Master Renard is likely not to credit them toward your passing score.”

“The way I understood it, staff skills have nothing to do with my passing score. Maybe you can explain to me why it’s called Constitutional Development when fifty Stamina are required to pass? No matter how he tries to explain it, I can’t make sense of the nomenclature.”

“Hmm. Perhaps because Constitution is the parent attribute of the Stamina pool? Or perhaps it’s because Constitutional Development sounds more interesting than Stamina Development. Professors are a heavy bunch.” She shrugged. “I wasn’t in the meeting.” A broad smile crossed her features, and although it might have lit the night when it reached her eyes, it never did. I sensed a motive for her visit. My theory proved out when the smile faded. “Your staff echoes off the targets and can be heard halfway across campus.”

“Oh.” Warmth flooded my face. I sheathed my staff, then looked around. A shadowy figure stood near high bushes at the base of the stairs behind the library. I quickly returned my gaze to Roshan. “Apologies. I’ll stop doing it at night.”

“Fine. But that’s not my only reason for coming.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“I wonder if you’d join me in the chapel.” She turned then gestured with a hand crossing her body at the waist. Somehow, I didn’t think I had a choice.

Our sandals clapped against the cobblestones as she walked next to me in silence. When we reached the building, she opened the door. We stepped into the small room in the rear of the chapel. Low chattering echoed from the front as we passed quietly through the short hallway. A few robed figures in the front pew stood when we emerged near the altar. Most of the candles throughout the chapel were extinguished, leaving only those around the altar to cast light into the front pews.

My knees quaked.

Master Renard stood, the hood of his lily robe draped over his back. “Ah, here she is.” He raised a finger to beckon me over. Master Welling’s lips tightened in one corner, reminding me of how my father would look when I’d spilled water I carried from the well to the kitchen. It was only the third time I’d lain eyes on Magister Leira, but I hadn’t seen her hair down before, and pure white streaks laced through her otherwise obsidian mane. Another woman who could’ve been her twin stood at the end of the pew in a lilac robe with white trim. The one who’d escorted me to my dorm room the day we arrived.

Mora.

My Constitution mentor gestured toward the center of the pew, so I sat there. The masters sat on either side, save for Roshan, who circled and leaned on the altar to gaze at me.

Master Leira cleared her throat. “Congratulations on level six, Contessa.”

My hands trembled, so I shoved them beneath my legs then lowered my head in a nod. “Thank you.”

“Did you learn anything new?”

My gaze danced from face to face, then I nodded again. “A spell of binding.”

Master Welling uttered a single word. “Which?”

“Flame Bindings.”

His eyebrows joined in a high arch above his eyes. “What?” He shot glances at the other masters. Each shook their heads in response. “Can you read it to me?”

My voice quivered when I tried to speak, so I swallowed and started again. “Draw on the fire of Enora to ensnare up to two enemies with fiery tendrils that burst from the ground.”

“See?” Master Renard thrust an accusatory finger toward me. “It is as I said. The red glow.”

It was clear he referenced the aura surrounding my staff with the final strike against Elren Xen.

“That’s a bit of a leap,” Magister Leira interjected. “She’s only level six.”

“She was level five at the time,” Master Renard said. He scratched the tip of one of his elven ears and turned his gaze away from the group to stare at a paneled wall.

“Which is even more proof your theory is flawed.”

The elf stood and wheeled around. “Pardon me, Magister Leira, but which of us has access to the elven archives and spent most his life reading the lore of ancient spells?”

Magister Leira’s ears twitched with the pull of her sudden, toothy smile. Her eyes shone despite the low light. “Master elf, I’ve spent the last decades in Brumhill dealing in rare magic tomes. I assure you, I’m not so ignorant as you imply.” She turned a hand over in her lap. “My implication is based on my own experience. I’ve never heard of someone of such low level with no casting experience doing what you claim she’s doing.”

“Nor have I,” he grumbled. “But something is amiss in this one.” I noted how he glanced at everyone in the room, even turning his head to include Roshan, but avoided my gaze.

The last thing I wanted was to make trouble for myself. I’d spent too many of my moments since arriving in Warrington doing exactly that, but the way they talked around me was beginning to grate on my nerves, and my knees would never stop shaking if I didn’t relieve myself of the tension. “Have I offended in some way? I didn’t mean to do anything—”

“Tess,” Master Welling said, “you’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Unless she knew what she was doing,” said the younger woman with features similar to Magister Leira’s. She cocked her chin toward me. “Did you? Know what you were doing?”

“On the field? During the duel?”

She nodded.

“I’m sorry. I still don’t know what I’ve done. So, no.”

Master Welling stood. He towered over the elven instructor. “The child is trembling in her robe. This is not the way.” He gestured with his hand, so I would grasp it. “Come.”

Roshan perked up. “Where do you think you’re taking her?”

Welling looked around the room. “It’s apparent to me those schooled in the Light have prejudged Contessa, and I would not see her suffer for what she doesn’t yet control.”

Roshan nodded, but her words contradicted the motion. “I have rendered no judgment against her, nor have I changed my orientation. I want only what’s best for Tess.”

“Ha!” Welling shot a glare toward Master Renard. “I wish I could say that for everyone. He’s been in here wailing about—” He cut his words short. “Come, Tess. We will gather your things and prepare for our journey.”

Magister Leira’s voice boomed. “I am the magister of this academy. Contessa of Millbury is my student, and you aren’t taking her anywhere!” She rose, pointed at the pew, then allowed a deep breath to expel through her lips. “Now, all of you cease your dramatic protestations against one another and sit.”

Roshan stepped down from the altar and slipped onto the pew with the others as they took their seats.

Magister Leira set an arm on my shoulder. “Tess, I wonder if you’d be willing to do an experiment with me.”

Roshan shook her head. “Not in this place of the Light.”

Leira shot a breath through her nose. “And you claim you’ve passed no judgment.” The women locked gazes for a long moment, but Roshan finally looked away. It was the first time I’d seen her back down from anything, which made me wonder at the extent of Magister Leira’s authority. “What better place than one influenced by the Light, after all?”

“What do you want me to do?”

Leira waved a hand toward Master Welling. “You’re the representative of the Shadow Council here, so this part is your domain. Please.”

Although he remained seated, Master Welling cocked his head to one side, signaling Leira to move away. She took a giant step to the side. “Tess, equip your staff.” I slid the weapon from my shoulder and clutched it like Master Renard had illustrated during class. “Now, open your interface to view your new spell.”

I did.

Flame Bindings

Draw on the fire of Enora to ensnare up to two enemies with fiery tendrils that burst from the ground.

Type: Shadow Spell

Cost: 50 Mana

Damage: 3-5 HP per second

Duration: 7 Seconds

Cooldown: 15 Seconds

This spell has diminishing returns when cast against the same target in periods of less than one minute.

The image of a woman in a brown robe twisting her hands at chin level then releasing orange energy from them appeared in the pane next to the spell. I focused as she repeated the gestures, then I nodded. “I have it.”

Master Welling has challenged you to a duel.

Accept?

Yes/No

My knees knocked together as if the ground shook, but I accepted.

“Good. Focus on the icon next to its name.” He pushed up from the pew then walked to the wall, away from the other masters. “Focus on me through it.”

The circular icon depicted glowing orange ropes with yellow edges. When my gaze switched from the icon to Master Welling, the icon blurred then became transparent. Through it, he came into focus. I mimicked the gestures with my hands. Warm heat rushed from my shoulders then down to my fingers with such force, it was like the blood in my veins would burst from their tips. Roots of fire exploded from the temple floor and encircled the robed master’s legs.

You cast Flame Bindings.

Your Shadow Magic skill has reached rank 2.

The encumbrances slipped back into the floor, leaving its surface flat and pristine.

Dracin Welling resists Flame Bindings.

“Did you see it?” Master Renard asked.

Roshan nodded. Leira Nodded.

“See what?” I asked.

Master Welling’s face stretched into a grin. “Your mana bar didn’t move.”

“He looks happy,” Roshan cast a scowl at Magister Leira. “Why does the grand master of the Shadow School look so elated? Doesn’t this mean—”

Master Welling preempted the rest. “Yes. It means this young woman before us is tapping into The Source.” Although I wouldn’t have imagined his smile could stretch any wider, the creases in his cheeks deepened. “And she doesn’t even know it.”

Dracin Welling has forfeited the duel.

You have defeated Dracin Welling in a duel.

Magister Leira slid down in her pew. A loose accent slipped past her lips when she spoke. “All my life I try to tap into The Source, and this one just reaches down and channels it through her weapon. Unbelievable.”

Roshan scanned the crowd. “Am I the only one who takes this seriously?”

Master Renard shook his head. “No. I’m with you, priestess. This situation will need to be remedied.”

“Remedied? No. It must be mitigated!” She clapped her hands, and everyone in the room jerked.

I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Could someone tell me what this Source is?”

The masters shared strange looks, as if searching for the proper authority to address my question. Then Magister Leira nodded at Master Welling.

“Tess, have you ever heard of ley lines?”

“Yes. Only recently. But I can’t claim any authority on the subject.”

Roshan butted in. “They carry the blessed energy of the goddess and are fed by the waypoints across Enora.” Her words came with the authority of expertise but made little sense to me.

“I thought waypoints were map indicators.”

“True, but there are also powerful sources of ley energy that take the form of trees throughout Enora. They wield such power, they have immortal guardians selected by the goddess herself. When adventurers level their combat classes to twenty, they can tap into these ley lines to replenish their spirit pools every twenty-four hours.”

I scanned my interface. “I don’t have a spirit pool.”

“You are not level twenty.” Roshan shook her head. “Thank goodness for that!”

Master Welling cleared his throat. “Tess, the lava lines are a different source of power, entirely. Less ethereal in nature, their heat produces a different kind of energy that can be drawn on only by those with high affinities in Shadow magic.”

“Like who?”

Roshan shared a glance with him and gave a short, quick shake of her head.

Master Welling nodded. “I’ve only heard of one in Rubal who can wield the power.”

“One? Who?”

“Who is not important,” Roshan blurted.

Welling sighed. “There was once a magister of this place when it was a university. She was a magician of awesome power, and her name was Delphine. She is no longer with us, obviously, but during her tenure, dark forces influenced her, and she ended up in a poor state. That’s all I will say on that topic, but you should heed my tale as a warning. It’s imperative you train and learn to control your power. And you must work with Roshan every day to keep Darkness at bay.”

“You people talk like storybooks.”

“Contessa,” Magister Leira warned. “You’d do better to mind your tone.”

My back teeth clenched. These people I’d known only for days were discussing my fate, and the great leader of the academy fretted over my tone?

Leira squinted. “I’ve frustrated you. Good. Now, how will you handle your anger?”

My head jerked back. “What?”

She set her hands on the pew and pushed herself to her feet. Although she stood at least four inches shorter, she glared up as if she held some physical advantage. “You heard me, girl. Will you let your frustration flow? Will you let it feed your power and lash out?”

I took a step back, my focus darting face to face. “What? No. I would never. I…” My gaze dropped to the floor. Although my heart thumped against my ribs in a rapid tempo, I recognized every tingling sensation rippling through the muscles of my arms and legs as fear. The dread that I might end up alone again surged.

The magister stepped closer. “Good.” She set a hand on my shoulder, leaned in, then peered up at my downturned face until I looked her in the eye. Then she straightened, and I raised my head. “You were called here for a reason, Contessa. You grasp a power wielded by powerful creatures who would cast this entire continent in blight. While it’s not my intent to scare you, this will make your recruitment of the utmost importance to them. Do you understand?”

I didn’t understand. There was no basis for comparison. Still, I nodded.

“Masters Roshan and Welling told me they planned to meet with you regularly.”

I nodded.

“Because of your high magic potential and Shadow affinity, Roshan wanted to ensure your emotional needs were being met. She understands what you’ve lost, and the priestess lives to serve people like you. On this, you have my word.”

I shifted my gaze to Roshan. The priestess closed her eyes and gave a slow nod of reinforcement.

Leira squeezed my shoulder. “Master Welling’s role would be to help you tap into your mana efficiently so you get the most from your affinity.” She dropped her hand, then sidled up next to me and faced the others. “Now, I see no other option. If Tess is to thrive, we must all agree as to the best course. I cannot make this decision without your approval.”

Master Renard crossed his arms and slouched. Roshan and Master Welling nodded their consent.

Master Mora stood. “How do we proceed?”

Magister Leira drew in a deep breath and let it go. “Master Renard, it’s your desire Contessa stop attending your class?”

Joren Renard stood and lined up with the rest of the group. “I’m sorry, Tess. But it is. I will help you in any other way, but until you can control this strange power foreign even to my ancient race, I can’t risk harm coming to my other students.”

“But they can’t be harmed in a duel, can they?”

Renard smiled, taking me totally by surprise. It subtracted twenty years from his features. “You have no grasp of your potential, child. This is not a personal affront on my part. You must trust your teachers in this.” He walked forward then up the three stairs leading to the altar. “Most important of all, we agree word of this strange turn of events be kept to this circle.”

Magister Leira nodded her agreement. “The students of the Light School will be told Contessa moved to the Shadow School. I propose in the interest of continuity that Tess continue to attend her elective class, where members of both schools are present.”

Roshan nodded her approval. “Although deceit is not my favorite way to solve a problem, this pretense will serve our purposes. She will need to move out of her dorm and into my quarters in the temple.”

“All due respect, Master Roshan,” Mora said, “I’m a Shadow magician. If it suits, I’d have her move into my suite. I have a spare room, and she’ll have a private entrance.”

Roshan half-bowed. “As long as she visits me daily, I have no objection.”

“Visit you daily? Live with Mora?” Everything was changing, as if I hadn’t gone through enough. My hands trembled.

Leira tilted her head to one side and raised a shoulder toward it. “Of course, Tess, you have the option of leaving.”

Roshan shook her head. “They would not welcome her at the foundation, yet. I would not put her into the wilds.”

I could’ve mentioned that, if I had such overwhelming potential, I might teach myself magic and go live how I desired, but something told me it was exactly the kind of thinking that might cause them to jump out of their footwear. Worse, they might take me up on it.

Despite the release of tension during the last few moments as the masters moved into planning mode, I knew the potential for its return burned just below the surface. Besides, my potential would be better realized here, among these people who seemed willing to make special accommodations for me. And if what Roshan said was true, I didn’t want to be out there where dark beings would aim to recruit me.

The obsidian shell of the dark demon standing in the field flashed in my memories, and I shivered visibly.

“Tess?”

“No, Magister Leira. I have no desire to leave the academy. But how will I be trained?”

“I was just coming to that.” Leira cleared her throat. “Masters Welling and Roshan discussed their plans with me before Master Renard reported what he saw in class today. We will execute that plan, with minor modifications. Instead of reporting to class, you will report to Master Welling each morning at the same time. He will teach you what Master Durring would have covered in Foundations of Magic, as well as see to your physical training. After lunch you will report to Roshan here. She will see to your spiritual guidance. Are we all in agreement?”

All the masters nodded, including Master Renard, which granted overwhelming relief. I liked him, and I didn’t want any animosity painting our interactions. His suggestion that they keep the plan quiet reflected his support, and that was what I needed.

“Good. If curious minds inquire about Contessa, dismiss them immediately. We are the authorities here, and we need not engage.”

“Won’t that raise suspicions?” Renard asked.

“I don’t care. I’m too old and impatient for witless children’s wonderings.”

Witless? What a questionable choice to lead an academy.

Roshan raised a finger. “There is just one issue, if I may.”

Leira nodded for her to continue.

“Shabana.”

An unexpected tear welled in one eye, then the other flooded. Roshan tilted her head in curiosity.

“What is it?” Leira asked.

“They’re friends,” Roshan said. “Neighbors.”

I sucked back the quivering in my throat. “She can be trusted. We can’t keep this from her.”

Roshan interlocked her fingers behind her back and paced. Leira watched her, waited.

“Shabana is from the Fowler Foundation,” Roshan said. “So, she is like family. I agree she can be trusted, but”—she stopped pacing and raised a finger so it pointed skyward—“it will be me who broaches the subject. Agreed?” She set her sienna eyes on me.

“Yes, Master Roshan. I have one more request.”

“Ask it,” Renard said, and his tone delivered the sense he was ready to be done with this meeting.

“I want to keep my job with Looli Graples.”

Leira shook her head dismissively. “And why would we care? Go to work, don’t go to work. Just show up to learn from Roshan and Dracin every day, and go to your blasted carpentry class.” She waved a hand. “Now, I’m hungry. The meeting’s over.” She slapped my shoulder. “Come by if you need to talk. Otherwise, you’re dismissed.”

Master Welling peered around the group to make sure no one was watching, then shot me a hard look coupled with a discreet shake of his head. He cocked it toward the front doors.

I nodded understanding as the rest of the masters—save for Roshan—exited through the back.

Once they were gone, Roshan nodded at Master Welling. “My shop.”

He nodded. “Now that the administrative drivel is finished, come with us so we can tell you the whole story.”

31

Roshan led us into the shop, then Master Welling threw up both hands. Flames burst to life inside the hanging lanterns situated along the walls. Crystals of every color I could imagine pulsed as if they breathed as we passed their cases en route to the front counter. Mixed energies eased my breathing while simultaneously weighing on my shoulders as they had when I left the shop the first time.

“Why do they affect me?” I asked, breaking the long silence of our trek down the street from the temple.

Without turning or stopping, Roshan raised her left hand and passed it over a case. The gems inside glowed brighter. “These are crystals bathed in the essence of the Light.” She raised the opposite hand, and darker crystals of deep reds and purples pulsed. Her hand trembled before she dropped it. “And these, of the Shadow.”

Master Welling took an interest. “Tell me, how do they affect you, Tess?”

I halted then turned. “Why? Don’t they affect you?”

“They do, but at my level, the Light gems present a whisper compared to the discomfort I would’ve felt when I was a boy.”

“And the Shadow crystals?” I drew a deep, easy breath as I passed those Roshan had indicated when her hand shook.

“They feed my essence, but in the same whisper.”

The vague answer tapped a well of impatience in my chest. “What is their purpose?”

We cleared the cases then stepped into a small room in the back. A basin with three cleansing crystals stood in one corner, and a clean, simple wooden countertop was covered with tomes. I recognized them as the tomes I’d brought from the cave, the ones I’d discovered in The Below. Roshan gestured at cushioned chairs parked beneath a round table.

The priestess interlocked her fingers as she rested her arms on the table. “The crystals are socketed into weapons and armor to provide attribute bonuses and other advantages, like the runes you discovered when carving them into your staff.”

“You know about that?”

Roshan flashed Dracin Welling a knowing smile. “Despite your unique situation and our desires to keep it close to our robes, the masters and the people of the Fowler Foundation keep no secrets from one another.”

“None of relevance, anyway,” Welling added.

Roshan chuckled. “Damned Shadow lovers with their secrets and underhandedness.”

“Are we bad?” I asked, recalling how they’d said I was more susceptible to Darkness’s draw with an affinity like mine.

Roshan lay her hand on mine. “I was joking, Tess. Master Welling is one of the most decent and gentle men I’ve met.” Her eyes adopted a distant gaze targeted somewhere over my shoulder. “Until recently, I’d associated the Shadow practice with demons, but when I was… brought to Rubal, my perspective changed. You see, I was raised in a village in Lau, where magic suppression was also common. The war chiefs were just much better at it. So, I knew little other than what my master taught me in secret.”

Once again, Roshan illustrated how I’d underestimated her. Somehow, my father had always lent me the impression that priestesses were pious creatures who never did wrong. Were never deceitful. Until our farm had been invaded, I suspected he’d hoped I’d one day become one, but he always kept talk about my future short. Non-committal.

Welling cocked an eyebrow to half-mast. “So, shall we get to it?”

Roshan leaned back in her chair, but her arms remained resting on the table. “Tess, I have been in touch with my adopted family back at the foundation. There I have a council of my own, of sorts. In the wake of your visit, there was much talk. Your attempts to hide your dominant affinity didn’t go unnoticed.”

Warmth rushed to my face. I lowered my head and dropped my hands into my lap. “I’m afraid my lack of control was apparent. I’m sorry.”

She waved the sentiment away. “A trifle. As Dracin pointed out, we all have our secrets, and besides, I know why you kept it to yourself. It was new to you.”

Master Welling had a different take, even if to the same end. “Never lower your head in shame in my presence again. Do you understand?” Although his features weren’t wrinkled in anger, the stony expressionless gaze he set on me communicated clearly enough.

“Yes, Master.”

“You will call me Dracin when we’re away from the other masters.”

Roshan nodded. “And I am now Roshan to you. This is acceptable even in their presence, as I am the spiritual advisor for the academy, and I insisted from the beginning the young men and women feel comfortable with me.”

“Well, I do.”

“I’m pleased to know this. We are close to the same age, Tess. This is not lost on me. But you should be mindful that I am your guide, and although I would happily come to call you sister someday, this will be earned. Do you understand?”

“I think so.”

“Good. Now, I’ve talked with the master of the Fowler Foundation. His wife is a caster with high affinity in Shadow magic, like you, except higher.”

Dracin Welling’s head whipped around. “Higher? You never told me—”

Roshan shot him a glare.

“Right. Got it.”

“When I spoke with the master and his betrothed, they insisted you be kept here until you’ve honed your skills. But in time, they would welcome you, if you choose a life of adventure. They share interests with the academy and helped us restructure it. The master is one of our patrons and is very generous.”

“He sounds wonderful.”

“When he’s not acting like a total noob, he is.”

“Noob?”

She waved her dismissive hand a second time. “A word from my culture meaning a young adventurer lacking common sense. It’s not important.”

I gave a false nod of understanding. How could someone so generous and who oversaw such a wondrous place as the instanced foundation be so lacking?

Master Welling misinterpreted my expression. “If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t made his acquaintance yet, either.” He flashed Roshan a look that wasn’t entirely devoid of humor. “These people keep secrets like demons.”

“Never compare my people to demons,” Roshan said. Then she cleared her throat. “Now. Where was I? Oh! It’s important that you focus on your training, Tess. While there are many promising students at the academy, someone like you could be of great aid to all magic users throughout the countryside of eastern Rubal.”

“How so?”

Master Welling drummed his fingers on the table. “For starters, you could be an example. Convincing people to give up their children for a higher calling isn’t an easy choice.”

“You would want me to recruit magic users for the academy?”

He nodded. “Perhaps. But your purposes could be many beyond that.”

Roshan slid the palms of her hands across the table in wide swaths, as if testing the smoothness of the grain. “Turmoil surrounds us, Tess. It goes far beyond the politics with the king. The bands of mercenaries have gained footholds in towns to the north. Even though the demons retreated to the Plague Barrens in the wake of a recent conflict of great Darkness, packs have risen from the depths to snatch children from their parents. We don’t know why.”

A great flash of realization slammed into my consciousness like I’d fallen from my horse. “What if I could tell you why?”

Roshan’s eyebrows knitted together. “How would you?”

“Demons killed my father. They burned our home to the ground and pursued me. If what you say is true, and they would be attracted to those with high Shadow affinities—”

“You would stick out like a giant crystal spire!” Welling slapped the table. “Of course!”

Roshan clamped her temples with the thumb and middle finger of one hand. “How did I not think of this?”

“You’ve had a lot on your mind,” Welling said. “Our focus on Tess was for different reasons.”

“Perhaps, but I should be attentive.” She snapped her fingers then leveled the index finger on me. “As should you. The masters can say what they like, and I respect that Leira was brought north to be the interim leader of the academy, but we must have your word you will follow our every instruction.”

I nodded.

She shook her head. “No. You don’t have a full understanding yet. It is imperative, Tess, that you obey every command. You must come to me every day after your training so we might increase your Light affinity as well. Your Shadow power is undeniable, but with your potential, we have the opportunity to raise your Light affinity and create balance. One need not contradict the other.”

“You mean they don’t… cancel each other out?”

“We don’t know, Tess.”

“You don’t know?” My jaw dropped. “How will you create this balance if you don’t know it’s possible?”

“The balance is possible,” Dracin said. “It’s just that, with your high potential, there’s always the likelihood that increasing your Light affinity could affect your Shadow power.”

“It could?”

“You’re not listening,” Roshan said. “We don’t know anything for certain. But in light of what happened to you at the foundation during the invasion, we must act.”

I lowered my voice to a mutter. “Great.”

“But be heartened. I am powerful in the Light, and Dracin is unrivaled at the academy in the Shadow Arts.”

Master Welling swept his hand over his lips then dipped his chin. “Except by Tess.”

I gave a nervous chuckle.

Roshan laughed. “But she doesn’t command your knowledge of magic, and that’s why we’re here.”

Dracin raised his chin. “So, what do you say, Tess? Might this life intrigue you?”

I nodded so hard, something popped in my neck.

Roshan pulled out the third high chair then sat at my side opposite Welling. “Now, if it pleases Dracin, I would illuminate you.”

Dracin nodded.

I didn’t. “What do you mean, illuminate me?”

“In order to find then maintain the balance between magic disciplines, you must understand what you contend with. There must be a foundation upon which you can build. Do you understand?”

“I think so.”

“Close enough. Recall the event at the foundation, when the demon encroached upon you and Shabana.”

I grunted. “If I have to.”

“You have to.” She patted my shoulder. “That it’s a dark memory is a good sign. I understand you lost time, is that right?” When I nodded, she shared a short glance with Dracin before continuing. “Describe what happened.”

“The demon appeared behind us as we entered the cave. It raised its hand and cast some kind of fire spell.” I paused. “It gets a little foggy there.”

Roshan nodded understanding. “Try closing your eyes. Breathe. Focus.”

I closed my eyelids then drew a deep breath into my lungs as I imagined the grassy landscape of the foundation’s raised plateau, next Shabana, then the demon’s flaming hand. I spoke as I conjured the scene. “His hand burst into flame. A strange reddish hue engulfed my vision. Heat surged throughout my body. I shoved Shabana to the side when he waved the fiery hand toward her.” The image faded to black. “That’s when it all goes dark. When I came to, it was as if I’d slept for a moment, but without the grogginess that usually comes at first light. That’s when Shabana dragged me into the cave.”

Master Welling spoke from the other side as my eyes fluttered open. “And when you came to, the demon was gone. You’d vanquished it?”

“That’s what Shabana says.”

Dracin nodded. “Well, that definitely confirms our suspicions. She was channeling the energy from below. The power overwhelmed her.”

Roshan nodded agreement, but then shrugged.

I took it to mean the happenings didn’t fall into the realm of her expertise.

Dracin continued. “When you dueled against the young man in Master Renard’s class, did your vision adopt this hue you mentioned? Did your heat rise?”

Again I closed my eyes. “Yes. But it didn’t overwhelm me that time.”

“Did you do anything to suppress it?”

I shook my head. “No. I was consumed in the moment. I pressed the attack.”

Roshan leaned in. “Perhaps because the duel limits the damage one can receive, the Darkness didn’t fully present its power?”

Dracin tilted his chin toward his chest then shook his head. “Priestess, with all due respect, I fear your bias toward the Light confuses the issue. It’s not the Darkness upon which she draws, it is the Shadow. Darkness is the antithesis of the Light. Although it draws upon Shadow for power, its use of it is not exclusive.”

“Do not presume to preach to me the differences between the Light and Darkness.”

Despite the priestess’s low growl, Welling maintained a calm tone. “Then do not confuse the power that feeds my magic with the evil intent that is the other. There is great difference between Darkness and Shadow.”

Roshan’s mouth dropped open, her eyes flitted between us, then her shoulders dropped. “Apologies, Dracin. My words were ill-conceived. I do not equate you with Darkness.”

Dracin waved a dismissive hand. “I know you don’t, Roshan. We wouldn’t be here if you did.”

The priestess nodded agreement.

He uncrossed his legs to rest his elbows on his knees. “It’s a good lesson for our new acolyte. Tess, you have to understand these differences to know your power. Is my meaning clear?”

I nodded. “Very clear. Darkness draws upon Shadow for its power, but that doesn’t make Shadow evil in nature. And thank goodness for that.”

Dracin chortled. “Agreed. Otherwise I’d likely grow horns.”

Roshan cackled. “I was just imagining you with horns. They wouldn’t suit.”

He chuckled. I joined in.

Roshan calmed, then turned in her chair. Her eyes fixed on the glowing crystals closest to her. “Although Light is a powerful source of magic, and the ley lines feed its users with great energy, it requires discipline to wield it with efficiency. As I’ve been made to understand, evil chooses Shadow because it is more easily wielded.”

“Are you saying Shadow is more powerful?” I tilted my head.

Roshan shook hers. “I presume nothing. It’s easier to access, is all. I’ve seen powerful casters channel Shadow magic in ways I’d never imagined when I came to Rubal.”

“The mere assertion,” Dracin grumbled. “Like it’s a shallow well to be drawn from.”

I ignored him. “Like the mistress of the Fowler Foundation?”

She nodded. “That’s exactly who I had in mind. And she drew the power to herself with fury such that it left me in utter surprise. A Light caster of low level wouldn’t have been capable of such force.”

“So, that’s why you want me to understand the difference. Because the heat I sensed, the way the world went dark…”

Dracin nodded. “Yes. Even though I’ve never tapped The Source—I didn’t even know if it truly existed—Master Renard’s elven tomes claim an inexperienced caster who does so could be consumed by its power. I derive from his protestations, his fear of this is why he doesn’t want you to return to class. I theorize the reason you don’t recall this expression of your power is it overwhelmed you.”

“So, summarizing all you’ve said, The Source is the actual energy created by the heat of the lava lines far below us, but drawing upon it could overwhelm not only the caster’s enemies, but the caster, herself.”

He nodded. “I can simplify it for you further. It’s the hot energy that communes with mana to express Shadow magic into the world.”

Congratulations!

You have completed a Legacy Quest!

The Source

You learned that The Source’s power is fed by the heat of the lava lines deep in the crust of Enora.

Reward: 3,000 XP

You have learned a new agnostic offensive spell from the Shadow Arts:

Chained Fire

Tap into The Source to cast molten rays at your enemy. These rays bounce to additional enemies up to three times, degrading 50% in power with each jump.

Type: Shadow Arts Spell

Level: N/A

Cost: 100 Mana per two seconds

Damage: 23-30 on impact. 5-10 HP per second while channeling

Discipline: Shadow

Duration: Channeled

Cooldown: N/A

Prerequisites:

90% or higher affinity in Shadow

90% or higher Magic Potential

Note: Shadow Arts spells are a rare breed available only to those of exceptionally high affinities in Shadow magic. While they provide the advantage of high power, overcasting will prove dangerous, and even fatal, to the untrained caster.

A golden flash cast a bright halo around me then funneled into the air. Triumphant music filled my ears. A bold, golden seven appeared before my eyes then zipped into the distance until it became so small it vanished.

Congratulations!

You have reached level 7!

Since you have not chosen a class, your attribute points are assigned to Constitution.

+ 2 Constitution

You are awarded one elective attribute point.

You have four elective points to spend.

You must visit an attributes trainer to spend these attribute points.

Your Stamina has increased.

Your Hit Points have increased.

“How did you level?” Roshan asked.

“Something called a Legacy Quest. I had to learn about The Source.” I bowed toward Master Welling despite my seated position. “Thank you, Master Welling.”

He nodded. “Congratulations, Tess.”

“The goddess blesses you, Contessa,” Roshan added. “May you forever be happy and contented in the Light.”

“Thank you.”

Dracin squinted an eye. “As much as I’d love to revel in this advancement, my mind still pricks at me about the event at the foundation.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Did the heat remain when you came to?”

I nodded. “It burned hot, but wasn’t painful. I soaked in a pool in the cave. It dissipated after a time.”

He nodded as if I’d filled in a missing piece of a puzzle. “I suspect your inability to channel the magic fully kept it from dispersing. What came of this demon, according to Shabana?”

“I kicked it across the plateau. It tumbled down the natural stairs there.”

“How far is that?”

“If I had to guess, seventy-five yards.”

Welling glanced at Roshan, who nodded agreement. Then he shook his head. “All that expression of the Shadow, and still its power remained after.”

“Is that good? Bad?”

“I have no idea. But I must admit, I’m taken aback.”

Roshan cleared her throat. “If she channels such power as you imply, does it mean she must cast with such intent that it clears from her?”

“I can only assume so, but I can’t say with any authority.”

“And does that mean the expression of her power would’ve been even greater if she’d known how to channel the Shadow?”

Dracin stared at me for about five heartbeats. Something in the way his expression slackened led me to believe he debated whether to say the words that flooded his mind. But he eventually did. “That I can say almost with certainty. We must teach Tess to cast from her mana pool. She must learn Shadow magic. Spells. She must practice regularly. Then she must raise her Light affinity to see if it counteracts the negative effect she described. Only then can she learn to control the other.”

“The other? Sounds so ominous.”

Roshan interjected. “If Tess channels this power without tapping her mana pool, what does this mean?”

“I suspect she tapped her mana pool,” Dracin said simply. “Tess, open your combat sub-tab then bring up the text from our duel in the chapel.”

After navigating to the specified tab, I scanned to the point where I cast my binding spell. “I see it.”

“Now, you can imagine the word expanded for more detail. Read the result to us.”

You cast Flame Bindings.

-50 mana

Dracin Welling resists Flame Bindings.

You recover 16 Mana (Wisdom score 4 x 4 mana per tick).

Bonus Effect: Mana funnel. Drawing on the power of the lava lines, your mana recovery rate is tripled.

+48 mana

Dracin cupped his temples with one hand then drew his thumb and forefinger toward each other across his forehead.

“What’s it mean?” I asked.

Roshan muttered, “Amazing. I’ve never heard of it.”

I glanced at her, but her focus remained on the glowing crystals. I turned my gaze on Dracin, but he stared at the floor.

“Are you going to keep me in the dark?” I looked back and forth between the two of them. “What’s it mean?”

Roshan finally set her sienna eyes on me. “This is good practice for you. Learn patience.”

I swallowed, faced the shop door, then waited.

From the corner of my eye, Roshan nodded. “Good.”

Welling’s head came up. “The lava lines empowered your mana recovery. Even though you spent mana to cast the spell like any of us, your rate of recovery was so fast, no one saw your bar move.”

“Is that good?”

The two masters shared a long gaze. Welling smiled, then Roshan chuckled and raised one shoulder in a half-shrug.

In unison, they said, “Yes.”

* * *

It was Roshan who escorted me back to the dormitory this time. Although she’d always moved with such even strides and matching determination to appear as if she floated everywhere, this time the strides were shorter and slower. Questions flooded my mind, but I didn’t ask them. She seemed deep in thought, and I thought it might be a good idea to practice my patience instead of rattling off queries like a curious child.

Before we reached the chapel en route to the dorms, she finally broke the silence. Her words came as if we’d been in the middle of a discussion, or as if she continued the thoughts traversing her mind aloud. “Darkness is trickery. The purest evil you can imagine. It shrouds itself in deceit. Even impersonates the Light. My Master—Mitwah was his name—warned me each day of how it could pervade our lives without our knowledge. Only through our firm resolve and loyalty to the goddess could we shield ourselves from its influence. I hung on every word, like a good pupil. Then I carried Solara’s divine presence with me through a dungeon in the Plague Barrens, to the hinterlands of the north, and into a dark place I care not to recall. I even wielded her Light in defense of Trowlsby and faced the demon hordes from on a high wall.

“But just when I think I’ve grasped the depths of its power, you come along.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. Trepidation raised goose pimples on my arms.

Roshan noticed. “Good. You should be wary. I wouldn’t use words Master Welling might interpret as discouraging, and I won’t try to sway you from your path. Because in your potential lies our own.”

“What do you mean?”

She stopped on the far side of the temple, and I turned to face her.

“I’ve seen Shadow power wielded to the ends of the greater good, so I know it holds much potential in our continuing struggles against the Darkness in this world.”

“You mean like the demons who invaded my farm? The men who pillage the countryside?”

“Yes, but you see only the tip of the spear. If I’ve learned anything in these last months, it’s that I was stupid. I underestimated the extents of evil in this world. Dark beings who mask their attributes so as to gain the advantage of their enemies’ underestimations. Scrying for magic users, kidnapping, then enslaving them. Or worse.”

“What’s worse than slavery?”

“Torture?” She lowered her voice almost to a whisper. “Lavation.”

“What’s lavation?”

She shook her head. “You have so much to learn, Tess. And among the things you must grasp is that sometimes it’s best to remain silent. So, what I tell you now is best left between us, lest others repeat the errors of the past. Agreed?”

I nodded, but shivers burst between my shoulders and neck in waves.

“Lavation is an alchemic process. Its potions wipe away the memories and advancements of those who imbibe them.”

“What?” I splayed fingers against my chest. “They remember nothing of who they are?”

She nodded. “An evil thing, indeed. But an effective way to control the powerful.”

“I would assume so.”

“Power is a curse as much as a gift, Tess. You must decide, here and now, which will it be.”

The frustrations of the last two days flooded my mind. I blurted my answer with intensity. “The demon who murdered my father appears to me in yon field, Priestess. I would see him cast into the depths of Hokrahm’s domain to never return. I would see people like you protected so that we might bring more into our fold and fight off the evils you speak of.”

Although her eyes burst wide at first, she quickly recovered then leveled them on me at half-mast. “And how far would you go to enforce the goddess’s will?”

A lump formed in my throat. I searched for an answer the priestess might want to hear, then it occurred that dishonesty would serve no one. I’d spouted off like a kid, despite my earlier inward sentiments about maintaining a level, patient disposition. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

Roshan grabbed my collar then pulled me close. “I care not about your damned apologies. I care about your life!” She dipped her face inches from mine. “Do you understand?”

A blanket of heat swept up my legs, then engulfed the rest of my body as my vision flooded red.

You have been Empowered.

Roshan released me then stepped away as if my clothes had caught fire while in her grasp. Her voice came softly. “Tess, your face floods red.” She reached out, hesitated, then pressed the back of her hand to my cheek. “You are burning up. Is it happening here, directing itself at me?”

My stance shifted involuntarily from foot to foot as I teetered.

She gripped my collar again.

I clenched my fists, forcing them against my hips.

The droll voice uttered in my ears but from inside my head. Yes! Release the energy. Let your power go lest it consume you, child! Kill her!

Beads of sweat popped out on my forehead then streamed down my cheeks. I blinked away a salty warm river.

Let your power become unleashed.

Roshan’s eyes brimmed with concern. She reached for me, drew her hands back, reached again.

Such weakness. Is this the one you’d have teach you to survive?

A red glow surrounded me, then dissipated.

Wizen the Cruel casts Charm on you.

You have been Charmed.

My fists unfurled at my hips. My fingers formed claws as my arms rose against my will. The muscles quivered as I resisted, but I found myself powerless to the draw. Then my mind joined in.

Weak bitch. Die, weak bitch.

This time, the inner voice was mine, yet I didn’t recognize it. Though unspoken, its growl radiated behind my eyes.

“You…” My arms raised higher while more sweat formed on my forehead. “You… must… run.”

Roshan threw up her arms, twirled them before her so blue halos surrounded them then created majestic tracers against the backdrop of night. A translucent shield popped into existence around her, humming with energy. She winked her eyes in succession as she stared into mine.

“You must resist, Tess.”

The aura surrounding my clawed hands deepened, transitioning from red to mulberry. The heat swarmed across my skin as the energy flooded from my shoulders toward my fingers.

Roshan swept her hands across her chest, then pushed them toward me.

Roshan casts Rebuke.

You are no longer Charmed.

My hands dropped. I spun in a circle, searching. My gaze shifted to the field then to the chapel, as I sought the source I knew was close. I blinked away a new stream of sweat.

Roshan’s words became a whisper. Her lips moved, but no sound came. The priestess closed her eyes, muttered silent words, maybe of prayer, but I couldn’t have cared less.

I could’ve killed her.

The words she’d spoke moments before broke through.

Darkness is trickery. The purest evil you can imagine. It shrouds itself in deceit. Even impersonates the Light.

She clutched my shoulders after I spun away. The heat bloomed into outright fire as I twisted free of her grasp then turned toward the field. Bold gold lettering filled the top-center of my mind window.

Legacy Challenge!

Complete this challenge to build your legacy!

Destroy or repel the demon invasion.

Reward: 4,500 XP

+50 Reputation with the citizens of Warrington

I cast the message away as hatred burned inside. My own voice came distant, removed. “Where are you, bastard demon!” I sped off, consumed by my hatred for the obsidian-skinned bastard who’d taken the only family I’d ever known. “Come and face me!”

Two tiny embers of glowing orange bloomed in the distance. I charged toward them, the fire in me radiating so hot, an orange halo bloomed from my body. When I thrust my hands out, they glowed red with a purple halo. The soil beneath me might have melted the bottom of my sandals for the new surge of heat.

The demon was a translucent ghost, then it solidified. He raised his arms and clumps burst from the ground. Glowing orange hands stretched from the pits, clutched the ground, then demons raised themselves into view. Their eyes burned like those of their dark master.

Energy burst from my hands in blinding red rays that slammed into a minion, disintegrating it before jumping to another and slicing it in half. A third blew backward as the wrath of my fury bounced again.

You cast Chained Fire.

Critical Hit!

Bonus Effect: Empowered

Lower Demon

-122 HP

(-23 HP + 69 HP (Critical) + 30 HP (Empowered))

You have defeated a level 9 Lower Demon

Your Shadow Magic skill has reached rank 3.

Your Shadow Magic skill has reached rank 4.

+321 XP

(241 +25% (+80 XP) for defeating opponents two levels higher)

Chained Fire bounces to Lower Demon

Critical Hit!

-50% damage

Bonus Effect: Empowered

Lower Demon

-61 HP

(-12 HP + 34 HP (Critical) + 15 HP (Empowered))

You have defeated a level 5 Lower Demon.

+227 XP

Your Shadow Magic skill has reached rank 5.

Your Shadow Magic skill has reached rank 6.

Your Shadow Magic skill has reached rank 7.

Chained Fire bounces to Lower Demon.

Critical Hit!

-50% damage

Bonus Effect: Empowered

Lower Demon

-61 HP

(-12 HP + 34 HP (Critical) + 15 HP (Empowered))

You have defeated a level 5 Lower Demon.

+224 XP

Your Shadow Magic skill has reached rank 8.

Your Shadow Magic skill has reached rank 9.

Fingers quivering, I pointed at the tall demon. It wore an obsidian crown that matched the armor I’d mistaken for stony skin. The energy bursting from my hands cut a swath across two more demons before reaching him.

You are impacted by Lava Surge.

- 10 HP doubling each second channeling continues.

The demon ducked, then rolled under the beam which halved another low minion behind him. A golden flash surrounded me. Triumphant music played in my ears.

Still, I charged forward with my arms outstretched. “Die, all of you! Die!”

A golden 8 popped into my field of vision then swooped away.

Congratulations!

You have reached level 8!

Two more demons met their fiery ends as I reacquired my target and shifted my aim. The congratulatory text swept aside.

Warning: 50% health remaining.

My knees trembled, and I came to a stop. The only way to keep my feet against the exhausting fever coursing through my body was to lock them. The heat surging through me cooled then recycled itself from my feet up.

Warning: 35% health remaining

“Back to the depths with you, demon bastard!” I thrust my hands forward and the fiery source cooperated, sending the energy through me, but before I could unleash a torrent of hatred into the existing beam, a blue light split the day before me then bloomed into a portal.

Dracin Welling stepped through.

He raised his hands, flashing his palms toward me. They glowed purple, but my focus returned to the demon. Heat siphoned up my form as I readied to unleash my newfound love and take my vengeance.

Your Shadow Magic skill has reached rank 10.

Your Shadow Magic skill has reached rank 11.

A cold flash swarmed over my body.

Roshan casts Flash Heal 2

+160 HP

252 HP (95%) Remaining

Good. Time to reload. You will all DIE!

Pock holes appeared in the ground, then the lower demons dropped out of existence. Their leader raised a glassy glove and aimed two fingers in my direction.

“Now you see, Contessa of Millbury.” The soil opened beneath the demon as he threw his arms in a V.

Booming laughter filled my ears.

You are no longer Empowered.

Rage consumed me as I brought my fire to bear. “No, you coward!” This time, thinner rays burst from the tips of my fingers instead of the centers of my palms. I mentally clawed for more energy from below despite the sweat engulfing me from head to toe. I pushed through the pain in my heaving chest. “You… must… die…”

Your Shadow Magic skill has reached rank 12.

I fired long after the demon dropped into the soil, pushing all the heat I could muster. My fury burned white hot, as my life drained away.

Twirling snakes of energy wrapped in a halo of purple shot from Dracin Welling’s hands then slammed into me. Weightlessness ensued. My feet levitated from the ground like Master Durring’s when he cast a Levitate spell. My eyes drooped, then an overwhelming shroud of sleepiness crept into them.

“No!” I screamed as I focused my energy on the vanishing black demon. “No! It must die!”

Then the world faded to black.

32

My eyes fluttered open. Blurry figures lounged around an unfamiliar room. Sun streamed in through a wall of windows, backlighting them and casting their faces in shadow. A wet cloth covered my forehead, and an uncomfortable warmth filled my body despite the lack of a blanket or quilt.

When I raised one hand to shade my face from the assault of the goddess’s star, the people rose and stepped closer. Dracin Welling, Magister Leira, and Roshan stared down at me. A familiar-looking woman stood to one side, gazing out the windows. Her straight hair was green at the roots then transitioned into black as it fell to her shoulders. I’d seen her somewhere before but couldn’t put my finger on it.

Dracin Welling said, “You’re awake.”

The woman with the strange hair dye turned, stared at me, then raised one hand. Her fingers glowed lilac. A halo of the same tint engulfed my body then faded.

You have been Silenced.

I questioned the message out loud. “Why?”

Dracin wore a stony expression when he answered. “I used my sleep spell when it became apparent Roshan’s healing couldn’t keep up with the rate you were losing health. At first, I couldn’t be certain, but when your wild casting coincided with the emptying of your life force, you left me little choice.”

Magister Leira sat again and propped her elbows on her knees. “He saved your life. You should be grateful.”

Although the contempt in her tone was miles short of subtle, I nodded. “I understand what he did.” I looked at Dracin. “And I do appreciate what you did. But I was asking why that woman is Silencing me.”

She stepped forward, the sides of her mouth turned slightly up. “You’ve forgotten me already?” She closed her eyes and performed a slow half-bow. “I am Yin. Master Durring’s assistant from your Foundations of Magic Class.” Recognition must have dawned on my features because she nodded then continued. “We Silence you for your protection.”

“My protection?”

Dracin nodded. “Although our combined years of theoretical knowledge about The Source equates to quite the sum, your expression of it is the first any of us have witnessed. We have no experience to draw upon, and since you seemed either unwilling or unable to control it, we’re playing it safe. Maybe you could illuminate us, then we can decide together if Yin’s services are still required.”

I pushed myself up on the narrow cot. “Where am I?”

A voice from behind caused my shoulders to jerk. “In my suite.” Master Mora stepped into view. The persistent gray under her eyes lent age to what otherwise was an unblemished face. “You are welcome to recover here.”

“I’m fine.”

Roshan’s mouth pinched into a smirk. “Are you?” She marched over, chin high, then pulled the rag from my forehead. She set the back of her hand against my flesh then clicked her tongue. “Still clammy, still warm. Better, but not recovered fully.”

Dracin nodded as if he understood perfectly, then asked a question that defied the gesture. “Do you still feel it? To draw from the Source such brutal energy that disintegrates demons must come with recognizable sensations, yes?”

I nodded. “It rises from my feet. A numbing heat that surges through me.”

“Does its surge remain?”

I swung my legs over the edge of the cot then shook my head. “No. I just feel a bit warm.”

The green-haired one—Yin, I reminded myself—answered. “But she is Silenced. Wasn’t that the whole point?”

Welling tapped his index finger on his lips. “In theory, yes. But for all we know, the Source involves a different set of rules. Perhaps a test?”

Magister Leira shot up from her chair. “Absolutely not! Do you want to burn everything to ashes, including us?”

Chastised or not, Dracin smiled. “I suppose not.”

“You’re damned right, not!” She twisted her face into a particularly unattractive canvas of wrinkles then paced back and forth before the windows.

“How did you do it?” Dracin asked.

Roshan shook her head. “That’s not the important query.” She turned her anger on me. “And I must know the truth.” She thrusted a finger in my direction. “Did the demon control you? Were you so angry when I grabbed your shirt this Source took over?”

The glowing eyes of my demon enemy surfaced in my mind. I clenched my teeth as frustration over my failure to end his dark existence surged. But the question lingered in the air. How might admitting my susceptibility to the demon’s influence affect my standing with all present? If they knew he’d Charmed me, would they cast me out to protect the other students? Although Magister Leira had been referred to as the interim magister, she seemed to take her work seriously. How would she treat me if I admitted my weakness?

My father’s voice came, as if in answer.

Trust no one.

But hadn’t Roshan healed me despite my actions? And didn’t Dracin’s spell save me when my inability to control this Source shone through?

“She’s not so accomplished at hiding her deliberations,” Leira said. “The question was simple enough, girl.”

Whether or not I was unsure about the magister’s motivations, I trusted Roshan and Dracin. They’d taken me under their wings. Confided in me. Saved my backside.

“The demon charmed me. Only by way of Roshan’s spell—what was it called?”

“Rebuke,” the priestess answered.

“Yes. Only by that was the Charm broken.”

Your honesty has earned you five points toward your Light disposition.

Current disposition: Neutral

Current Rank:

Light: +10/+250

Next Threshold: Light +250

Next Rank: Esteemed

All that Light power will stifle your growth in the Shadow, Charmed one.

A shiver snaked its way up my spine and my attention shot toward the window. I longed to bolt from the cot and search the field for the demon bastard again invading my thoughts.

Leira annihilated the urge when she stopped pacing and answered. “So Roshan broke the Charm, then you cut swaths of destruction across the exercise field with reckless disregard for whomever you struck.”

Dracin shook his head. “You weren’t even there.”

Yin twirled a lock of her hair. “But I saw, and I find the magister’s description apt.” She cast me a mournful gaze. “It’s nothing personal, you understand. Just how I saw it. What I wouldn’t give to command that kind of power.” She pinched her lips together then rolled her eyes toward the ceiling as if her thoughts had taken her somewhere else.

“And she leveled,” Magister Leira said.

“Twice,” Dracin smiled, but when Leira turned her gaze on him, he flattened his features.

Twice?

I searched my interface for system messages while Magister Leira spoke.

“Exactly. We’re supposed to control this kind of thing. We can’t have her running off”—she fanned her hands wildly—“outranking the rest of the studentry. It won’t do.”

“I’m not allowed to level?” I furrowed my brow. “How will we defend the academy and the people of Rubal if we don’t level?”

Leira huffed with frustration. “We control this kind of thing. You aren’t supposed to start leveling until second semester, and then, only under our direct supervision.”

The text I sought flooded my screen.

You completed a Legacy Challenge!

The demon minions were driven back.

Reward: 4,500 XP

+50 Reputation with the citizens of Warrington

Congratulations!

You have reached level 9!

Since you have not chosen a class, your attribute points are assigned to Constitution.

+ 2 Constitution

You are awarded one elective attribute point.

You have seven elective points to spend.

You must visit an attributes trainer to spend these attribute points.

Leira snapped her fingers. “Are you listening, Tess?”

I brought my chin up. “Yes, Magister Leira.”

“May I ask how you leveled twice? You didn’t kill that many demons.”

“The goddess sent me a legacy challenge. Apparently, I completed it despite Master Welling’s putting me to sleep.”

Yin snapped out of her daze. “A… legacy challenge? But, you were only… what? Level six at the time?”

I raised my shoulder in a half-shrug. “Yes.”

Master Durring’s assistant threw her hands up then let them drop to her sides. “Yes.” Her head turned toward the ceiling. “As if it’s an everyday occurrence for a… a…”

“Noob?” Roshan asked.

Yin’s eyebrows furrowed then her head tilted. “Huh?”

“A youngling. A low level.”

“Ah. Yes. A noob.”

Roshan rolled her eyes. “Don’t even try to pronounce it. You Rubalians speak my tongue like barking dogs.”

“Could we please focus on the issue at hand?” Leira’s frustration with the chatter seemed to grow louder with each utterance.

“We could if you focused on the right issue,” Dracin said. Then he added, “Magister.”

“Oh, and please enlighten us, Grand Master Welling. What issue should I focus on?”

His eyes rolled slowly in my direction. When we locked gazes, I detected a slight tilt upward of one side of his mouth.

I suppressed a smile.

He looked at Leira again. “How does Tess learn to control this power so she might bring it to bear in support of our goals?”

“This is no longer my problem.” She waved a hand. “I must protect the students.”

“What?” I shot up from the cot. “You plan to cast me out?”

Yin raised her hand, it glowed, then I received a message.

Yin casts Silence.

You have been Silenced.

Leira took a step backward. “Are you going to disintegrate me, now?”

Despite her contempt, I found relief when my body temperature stayed level despite my sudden anger. Then I recalled the spell Yin had cast.

“No, the Silencing seems to be doing its job.”

Magister Leira dipped her chin toward her chest and glared at me from beneath her upper eyelashes. She growled her words in an unfamiliar accent, and the sudden change set me ill at ease. “Are you hinting that if you weren’t silenced you might behave differently?”

I shoved down my anger and forced a level tone. “You all brought me here to learn control. Now, you threaten to cast me out. It was you who implied I would disintegrate you, but I leveraged no threats, I’m just… concerned. Am I to end up alone?”

“Not as long as I serve the academy,” Dracin said, stepping between Leira and me. He faced the magister. “I’m certain we can come to a solution, considering what we all stand to gain… including Contessa.”

A new voice entered the fray. “She can stay with me.” All heads swiveled toward Master Mora, who’d taken up residency in the corner behind the door. “As I said before, we can move a bed in here.”

Magister Leira’s mouth formed an O before she found her voice. “Mora, why would you take responsibility for this?”

The mage folded her arms across her chest. “Because unlike the rest of you, I was a staff member here before. I’ve seen what power placed in the wrong hands can do. I experienced the constant shroud of the Währsager’s evil aura and was attacked by a demon once in this very room.” She stepped toward me then faced the magister as she set an arm across my shoulder. “Aside from the Mythic, I’ve never heard of a being who was offered legacy quests at low levels and wielded such power. Turning her out now would be nothing short of stupid.”

“Your tongue is sharp,” Leira said.

“And your contempt is unbecoming. I know you didn’t want this job, Leira. But you accepted it, and now you must do it.”

Leira’s lips parted as if she’d speak, but Mora raised one hand to stave off her reply. “Let me finish!”

The magister slammed her mouth closed, but her jaw ticked as she ground her back teeth.

“I could think of no better teachers than Masters Welling and Roshan. You have a devout priestess of the Light who was called to serve the Shénhuà.”

Roshan’s shot a warning glare at Mora, but she pressed on.

I wondered what that was about. Mythics. Shénhuà. I was lost.

“On the other, nothing less than the leader of a Shadow Council coven who I firmly believe will do everything he can to help her harness this power.”

“A power about which he knows nothing.”

Dracin shook his head. “Master Renard has promised to share with me many elven tomes referencing The Source from ancient times. I will study them, and Tess and I will learn together.”

That the instructor who expelled me from his class offered his sacred texts in my interest caught me by surprise. My heart thumped.

Magister Leira let silence bloom for a minute before she responded. “She can live in town.”

Mora shook her head. “I wouldn’t have her live in a shack. No. Cast her out, and I’m going with her.”

“You underestimate my resolve,” Leira replied.

Welling interjected. “This is too important, Leira. We all want to protect the students, but I am with Mora. I go where Tess goes.”

“Yes, but you have different motivations.”

“What motivations?” I asked.

Dracin waved a dismissive hand. “A conversation for later Tess, and I assure you it will be had.”

“Take her to the Fowler Foundation,” Leira suggested.

Roshan shook her head. “The master wanted her to come here. The people there saw what Tess can do, and while they might welcome her someday, that day hasn’t come.”

“I have a solution,” Dracin said.

“Oh, by all means,” Leira said. “Let’s have it.”

The strange accent persisted, and I wondered where she’d come from, but it didn’t seem the right time to ask.

“I will bind her.”

Everybody in the room jerked.

“Bind her?” Leira asked. “Seriously?”

“Only if she agrees.” Dracin turned his gaze on me. “What better way to keep tabs?”

“Bind me, like my father had done? Would I lose sight of my mana? Stop advancing?”

Dracin shook his head. “No. Of course not. That would betray our intent to train you. No. I would merely receive updates in my interface if you came to danger, cast a spell, things of that nature.”

“Oh.” Although I wasn’t sure about giving up my privacy, Leira’s persistent scowl left little doubt as to my limited choices. But I had questions. “And could I choose to be unbound?”

Dracin shook his head. “If it was that easy, it wouldn’t be much consolation to the magister, now would it? No. I would have to release you.” He raised an index finger. “But if you’ll offer me your trust, I will provide assurances. If you choose to be unbound, I will break the bond.” He directed a single nod toward the magister. “With the understanding that you will leave the academy and never return.”

Leira twisted her lips to one side. “Mmm. And she must agree to live here, with Mora. She cannot attend classes, and the private training will take place away from academy grounds.”

“A generous concession, magister.” Roshan bowed.

But Leira wasn’t finished. “And if we have any further occurrences on the academy grounds, you will take responsibility and see that she is sent somewhere far away.”

I suppressed the urge to smirk.

“It is agreed,” Dracin said.

Leira shot me a warning glare. “Do not test me, Contessa of Millbury. Although I hold no ill will toward you, I contend this power is beyond you. Give your word to be diligent in exercising it with control, to learn from Masters Welling and Roshan, and I will give you my leave to reside with Master Mora.” Her expression softened. “And, if you agree, perhaps there will be a place for you here at a later time. One with power such as yours—one who learns to control it—could be an asset to our future students. Do you find the terms fair?”

“More than fair,” I answered without hesitation. Then I bowed, as Roshan had before me.

“Good.” Magister Leira turned, crossed the room, then swung open the door. “I have business.” Her gaze shot to Yin, then to me, then back again. “See that she’s Silenced until this… heat passes.”

When she was gone, Roshan returned to her chair. “Now, we will have to figure out how to suppress this Source. No small undertaking, I’m sure.”

Dracin nodded. “Tess, were you aware of your health loss as you channeled that strange beam spell?”

“It’s called Chained Fire and, yes. I was warned. But that demon killed my father and destroyed my home. I didn’t care.”

Yin leaned on the long windowsill. “Hmm. I didn’t know that. I might have reacted the same way.”

Roshan pressed her lips into a white line. “We saw what her thirst for vengeance nearly achieved.”

Dracin sighed. “It nearly killed that demon.”

“It nearly killed Tess. We must do better.” Roshan shot her gaze at each person in the room except for me. It was the same expression my father had used when daring me to challenge him. When no one dared contest her, Roshan continued. “My master once taught me that Wisdom and Intellect are the wells of a caster’s power. Perhaps as Tess ranks up the attributes, she can better mitigate the damage herself.”

Dracin tapped his chin. “While I don’t disagree, priestess, the spell affected her health. She should focus on increasing her Constitution, which happens naturally through leveling. But I will research the elven tomes on this to see what impact Wisdom and Intellect have.”

My mind drew images of the scrolls hidden in the troll’s cave. Then the bottom drawer of my dresser where I’d stuffed the couple I’d hidden from Shabana as we returned from there. Maybe I didn’t have to settle for the increases to my stats that leveling provided.

Yin shook her head. “First things first. The binding.”

Dracin nodded. “Fine.”

Although he spoke only a single syllable, I wondered if I didn’t hear a tinge a regret.

You have been offered binding to Master Dracin Welling.

If you accept, Dracin Welling will be granted the ability to spend your attribute points, track your movements, and receive certain system alerts.

Warning: Binding is not to be taken lightly. This bond can only be broken by the binder, either by choice or by the death of either party.

Do you agree to be bound to Dracin Welling?

Yes/No

New images of pure red energy firing from my hands as I charged the demon who’d murdered my father sent shudders through my shoulders. I focused on Yes before I had time to change my mind.

Dracin nodded at Yin. “It’s done.”

“Fine. Now she’s your problem.”

I finally unleashed a full-mouthed smirk. “Thank you for your display of confidence.”

“It’s nothing personal, love.” She winked. “But you’re kind of a monster. Count yourself lucky the magister didn’t have you chained and suppressed.” She raised her hand and Silenced me again, even though the spell hadn’t worn off.

“Agreed,” Mora said. Then she smiled. “But a monster of the best kind.”

33

When we were certain the after-effects of The Source had passed, Yin left, slamming the door behind her. Mora, Roshan, and Dracin all dropped their shoulders like a suppressing force had been lifted from the room.

“Finally,” Mora said. “I thought she’d never leave.”

Roshan folded her arms across her chest. “I will not comment, as verbalizing my feelings about Master Durring’s assistant wouldn’t lend grace to the goddess’s name.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “She seemed a little sympathetic when I explained who the demon was. What he had done.”

Dracin nodded. “You’re more forgiving than I.”

Roshan’s bottom lip pushed forward. “But your sentiment expresses your capacity for forgiveness. This is good. It shows you’re capable of patience.”

Mora sat on the edge of the cot and patted it. I dropped next to her. “I can have your bed moved in and properly prepare the room by tomorrow evening. You should pack whatever belongings you brought.” She nudged me with one elbow. “But don’t worry. I have no designs on monitoring you. Your binding to Master Welling is excuse enough to allow you some freedom.”

“All the same,” Dracin said, “we can take steps now to help her resist should the demon try to Charm her again.” He stood then paced over to the cot. “Tess, I’m going to lay my hand on your forehead. Just relax.”

“Wait,” Roshan said. “Are you teaching her spells?”

“Yes, but you’re missing the important piece. Now that she’s bound to me, I can spend her attribute points. If you’re right about increasing her Intellect and Wisdom ranks, then we should do it.”

Mora nodded. “Agreed. And you might as well let her choose a class.”

“A class?” Roshan asked. “But isn’t that—”

“What?” Mora interrupted. “Against the rules?” She coughed a single laugh. “Make no mistake, priestess. Even though she’ll slumber here, the magister was clear she can’t even practice her crafts on campus. For all intents, Leira just expelled her from the academy.”

A wide smile spread across Dracin’s face. “Which means the rules no longer apply. I like the way you think, Mora. How about that, Tess? Would you like to choose a class?”

Tingles of excitement radiated through my arms. A class! Like a real adventurer from Baba’s stories! Although I’d barely had time to give it much thought, the reaction coursing through me was unexpected. “I would like very much to choose a class.”

“Good. Let’s see what your options are.” Dracin flashed Roshan the smile. The priestess dipped her head and half-closed her eyes in that way she did when consenting.

Dracin reached toward one corner of the room, and I spied my staff leaning there. Roshan snatched it then handed it over. He presented it to me, in turn.

“Clutch it with both hands.” His eyes flicked back and forth as he read his interface. “It’s been ages since I had a Companions Tab. Let’s see here. Ah, there it is.” He raised two fingers into the air at eye level, then swept them toward me.

Dracin Welling wishes to share:

Contessa of Millbury: Advancement

Do you accept?

Yes/No

I nodded then text filled a square in the center of my interface.

Contessa of Millbury has equipped:

Acolyte’s Staff

Level 5 (Augmented)

Type: Two-handed staff

Slot: Weapon

Quality: Uncommon

Durability: 50 of 50

4-9 Melee Damage

Augmentation: +2 Wisdom

I noted how the description of the staff listed the Wisdom bonus as an augmentation. Previously, it’d just given the bonus information. I suspected the new text was for Dracin Welling’s benefit. That way he knew his bound companion had augmented her weapon. The goddess thought of everything. But the text that followed adapted so it spoke directly to me.

By equipping the Acolyte’s Staff, you may choose from the following starter classes:

Shadow Mage

Versed in the elemental powers of Enora, Shadow mages use lightning, fire, wind, and ice damage to vanquish their foes.

At level 20, Shadow Mages may select from direct damage combat professions like Black Mage.

Thaumaturge

Although thaumaturges produce less damage than other Shadow magic classes, they are able to summon lesser spirits to boost their damage and cast spells of their own. Unlike other Shadow classes, Thaumaturges receive melee combat abilities that replenish their resource pools.

At level 20, Thaumaturge may select from offensive support combat professions like Shadow Summoner.

Lesser Witch

Witches swap their mana for offensive potions of fire and poison. Although incapable of raising humanoids like the level 30 specialty class, Necromancer, they can raise the bones of fallen beasts to fight by their sides for a short period.

At level 20, Lesser Witches can select from combat professions like Witch.

Arcanist

Arcanists use ethereal tomes to read incantations that draw on the power of Shadow to inflict damage.

At level 20, Arcanists can select from combat professions like Shadow Spiritualist.

Warning: Choose your starter class wisely. Once you have selected, you may not change classes and your class options at higher levels will be limited.

After allowing me just enough time to read through the choices, Dracin Welling cleared his throat. “What do you think, Tess? Any of those choices particularly exciting to you?”

“Hmm, I don’t know.”

Roshan stepped forward. “If not, we could always equip you with a weapon bathed in the Light. You would receive entirely different classes, like Mage of the Light.”

“You jest,” Welling said. “The girl is bathed in Shadow.”

Roshan shrugged and adopted a mischievous smile. “You can’t blame a servant of Solara for trying, can you?”

Dracin chuckled. “I very well could. Especially in this case.”

“Bah. Fine.”

“What are the choices?” Mora asked from beside me. “It’s been so long since I chose Shadow Mage, I can’t remember.” Welling swept a hand toward her.

While she read the options, I scanned them again. Then again.

“Hmph,” Mora muttered. “I was never offered Thaumaturge.”

“That might be a good choice,” Dracin said.

I tilted my head. “But it does less damage.”

“Less direct damage. But you could summon spirits to fight alongside you. And they would also buff your Shadow abilities. Besides, with the power you’ve already displayed, I’m not too concerned about your DPS.”

“DPS?” I asked.

“Damage Per Second.”

“Oh, I see.” I flipped over to the supplemental log in my interface then dropped the acronym in a new note. Something told me I was going to be inundated with acronyms.

To their credit, the three remained silent while I perused the options again and again. I focused not only on the starter classes, but what options would be available to me later. I found myself leaning toward Thaumaturge, so I focused on it then more information flooded the box.

Combat Professions for Thaumaturges

Note: Combat Professions are available at level 20. A class trainer or bound master is required to select a CP.

Shadow Summoner

With the ability to Summon greater spirits to fight at their side and buff parties, Shadow Summoners have historically been sought out by parties venturing into combat against demonkind.

Role: DPS

Armor: Cloth

Weapon: Staff, Wand, Hand-scythe

Primary Attribute: Intellect

Attribute Bonus: Shadow Summoners receive +20% mana regeneration when in combat. This effect stacks with other buffs.

Secondary Attribute: Wisdom

Special Abilities: Summon Greater Fire Spirit, Summon Greater Ice Spirit, Summon Greater Wind Spirit, Shockwave II, Dark Siphon (Drain Life II).

Ability Pool: Shadow Mana

Spirit Ability: Must be learned through meditation. Unique per individual.

Although the special abilities listed drew my interest, my attention then focused on the last line. “What is a spirit ability?”

Roshan tapped Dracin’s shoulder. He nodded and stepped to one side. She knelt so our eyes were level. “This is what we discussed in my shop. When you reach level twenty, you receive a new pool, like mana and health. It’s called spirit. Everyone’s spirit ability is different. You can use it once per day, but you must meditate in order to refill the pool so that it might be used again.”

Dracin interjected. “I noticed you performed an augmentation on your staff. When you reach level 20 and have capped your skill rank for that level, you’ll have to learn your spirit ability to use the Beginner’s Stone of Augmentation. Goddess only knows why.”

“Do not question the goddess in this way when in my presence,” Roshan said.

“Apologies, priestess.” I took his droll tone to mean he’d just as soon get back to business as open debate about Solara’s will with a devout priestess of the Light.

I decided to help push things forward. “What’s your spirit ability, Roshan?”

“I can heal my entire party—or raid members up to a maximum of ten—to full health.”

“Wow! That sounds useful!”

She nodded, but didn’t reply. I would have been more excited.

I read the other combat profession options, but was most enticed by the potential of Shadow Summoner. Since its predecessor was Thaumaturge and the idea of conjuring a spirit to aid me in battle pleased me, I decided. “I would like to choose Thaumaturge.”

“Are you sure?” Dracin asked. “You can only choose once, and it will affect both your level twenty CP and your Specialty Class at level thirty.”

I scanned the choices a final time, took Dracin’s word about my current damage into consideration—no matter how shooting rays of death out of my hands scared me—then nodded. “Yes. Thaumaturge.”

He gave a single nod.

Mora rubbed her hands together. “This is kind of exciting.”

Congratulations!

You are now a level 8 Thaumaturge.

Strength: 14

Dexterity: 4

Intelligence: 6 (1)

Wisdom 4

Constitution: 26

Charisma: 6

Combat Skills:

Melee Attack: 5

Melee Defense: 6 (2)

Weapon Skills:

Staves: 22

Occupational Skills:

Augmentation: 1

Carpentry: 6

Rune Crafting: 11

General Skills:

Survival: 4

Locate Traps: 5

Magic Schools:

Light Magic: 3

Shadow Magic: 12

Nature Magic: 0

Status Effects:

None

Affinities

Languages:

Common

Elven

Magic Affinities:

Potential: 100%

Light: 25%

Shadow: 91%

You have seven elective attribute points to spend.

You have learned the following spells:

Summon Lesser Fire Spirit

Summon a spirit empowered by Fire magic to your side.

Type: Summoning Spell

Cost: 100 Mana

Damage: N/A

Casting Time: 3 seconds

Cooldown: N/A

Summon Lesser Ice Spirit

Summon a spirit empowered by Wind magic to your side.

Type: Summoning Spell

Cost: 100 Mana

Damage: N/A

Cooldown: N/A

Casting Time: 3 seconds

Dark Communion

Commune with your summoned spirit to replenish 20% health and mana.

Bonus effect: Boost mana and health regeneration by 15% for seven seconds.

Type: Spell

Cost: N/A

Damage: N/A

Cooldown: 1 minute

Sacrifice

Type: Spell

Cost: 50 Mana

Damage: N/A

Cooldown: N/A

Requires: summoned spirit

Sacrifice your summoned spirit to recover 50% mana and 25% health.

Incurs a cooldown penalty so spirits cannot be summoned for thirty seconds.

Drain Life

Drain 20 HP per second from enemies with less than 50% health remaining.

Type: Channeled Spell

Cost: 10 mana per second

Damage: 20 HP per second

Life Replenishment Rate: 20 HP per two seconds

Cooldown: 1 Minute

You have learned the following combat abilities:

Charged Punch

Charge up your staff with Shadow energy and use one end to punch your enemy.

Type: Melee Attack

Damage: 10-19 (+Strength bonus)

Cost: 10 Mana

Cooldown: 10 seconds

Flurry of Fire

Swing your staff in successive attacks from left to right or high to low.

Type: Melee Magic Attack

Damage: 5 HP per strike, up to five strikes.

Cost: 15 mana

Cooldown: 10 Seconds

Master Welling broke his spacey gaze. “Well, that was an eyeful.”

“What?” I asked.

“Your stats. The new spells.” He read the confusion on my face. “I’m able to see what you see now that we’re bound.”

“That makes sense.”

“We’ll have to find a place for you to practice those spells, but in the meantime, you should go and rest.”

Mora nodded. “And pack your things. I’ll have the room ready tomorrow.”

I stood but didn’t move toward the door. “If I bound myself to Dracin so he can keep a watchful eye, why do I need to move?”

Mora leaned back on the cot and set her hands down to support her. “Because Leira doesn’t want you in the dormitories with the other students.”

“Why? Does she think I’ll set them ablaze?” I waved my hands in short circular gestures.

Roshan shook her head in derision. “Now she’s funny.”

Mora ignored the priestess. “I suspect it’s as much for your own protection. Word will inevitably have travelled.” She scanned my features as my lower lip jutted out. “Is it so bad? To room with an old mage?”

“For one thing, you’re not old.”

In her all-too-common ability to read me like an interface document, Roshan revealed the truth. “She worries about her neighbor. Many students know they’re friends.” She turned her comments toward me. “But don’t worry. Shabana can take care of herself. And apparently, of you.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because she went to Looli Graples’s place to let her know you wouldn’t be working today.”

I sighed. “She’s a good friend, after all.”

Roshan continued. “So, Looli put her to work on a temporary basis.” She raised and dropped a shoulder. “Seems she keeps busy.”

I nodded. “She does.” If Looli had been anyone else, I might’ve wondered if she’d want me back when rumors of the day’s events traveled to the southern side of town, but I was sure she’d shrug them off. How nice it was to have friends you could rely on.

Even if just a few.

“Would you like an escort?” Roshan asked.

Again, a chain of still images of fiery energy bursting from my hands zipped through my mind. Due to the Sleep spell Dracin Welling had cast upon me and the slumber resulting from the energy drain, it all seemed like yesterday. But it would be fresh in the other students’ minds, and somehow I doubted they’d come near me. Besides, if I let the priestess escort me, she might invite herself in then help me pack what little I owned. All of a torn robe, the clothes she’d given me, and the exercise clothes I’d never use in class again.

Most important of all, I had plans for a few items I’d stowed away. “No, I’ll be fine. I’m certain Dracin will come running if he detects anything foul.”

Dracin stood and pressed his hands down his black robe to smooth the wrinkles. “You can wager on it.” He paused.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Would you trust me to spend these elective points once you’ve returned to your room? Spending this many at once can cause a short moment of wooziness.”

I gestured toward the bed from which I’d risen. “I could just sit there.”

He gave his head a quick shake. “I wanted to think it over. If you’re going to your room to rest, that should be plenty of time.”

I scanned his features. There was something familiar about the shape of his eyes. The way his chin narrowed in a sudden curve to round out at the bottom. I couldn’t put my finger on why. “Okay. Spend the points in about twenty minutes?”

He nodded. “I thank you for your trust.”

When I stepped into the hallway, Roshan slipped out behind me.

Dammit. She’s going to come anyway.

“Tess,” she leaned close then whispered, “I have something for you.” She extended one fist, turned it over, then unfolded her fingers. A golden ring with simple curved black lines carved into the band lay there. I winked my eyes in succession.

Ring of Recovery

Level 5

In the event of death, this ring allows the wearer to return to life with 50% health and 50% of their primary resource pool refilled. Although the level requirement is low, only goldsmiths of high level can craft the Ring of Recovery.

Type: Ring

Slot: Finger

Quality: Very Rare

Durability: 100 of 100

My mouth gaped. “For me?”

Roshan nodded. She smiled only with her lips. “Although we rid this place of a dark presence, the demon’s appearance tells me our work at the academy isn’t done. I would see you protected, but ask one favor in return.”

“Anything.”

“If it activates, you will not face down the threat that felled you. Come for me or reach out to Master Welling. Do you agree?”

I gently took the ring from her palm. “This is so kind of you, Roshan. But what if something happens to you?”

“I am bound to the master of the foundation.” She peered up the hallway in both directions. “What I tell you now is to be held in the strictest confidence, as he has adopted secretive inclinations of late.”

No kidding.

“I would tell no one your secrets, Roshan.” I slipped the ring onto the third finger of my right hand and found it fit snug.

“Our master is not of this world. He comes from a place he calls Earth.”

Another world? Who are these people?

“The goddess brought him here to open the way for others of his kind to return to Enora. This is why we keep his secrets close. In a way, his potential is limitless, like yours. But if the history of this continent tells us anything, it’s that the powerful subjugate those with the ability to threaten their power. Now, he has gained the attention of the king in the east. Although he doesn’t expect anything to happen in the short term…”

I finished her thought. “The tax man always comes for his master’s claim.”

She nodded. “Close enough.” She gripped my hand and ran her thumb over the ring. “If I fall, I will return to his bind point at the foundation. He gave me the ring so I could remain in battle to heal my allies should trouble come to the academy, but I’d see you wear it, since I can easily have Liatra open a portal to my bind point at the chapel.” She waved a hand. “Of course, when he learns I’ve given it to you, he’ll seek out another. His love is pure in that way.”

“Love?” I double-cocked an eyebrow.

She playfully shoved three fingers against my shoulder so it fell back then recoiled. “I have taken vows, idiot. We share not those kinds of bonds.”

I chuckled. Roshan’s lips quivered as if she’d join in, but instead she cleared her throat, adopted a soft gaze, then pointed down the hall. “Now, go. Rest. Pack.”

“Yes, Master Roshan.”

“And stop calling me master unless students are around. I stomach it in the interest of discipline among their ranks, but find I dislike it as much as… well, just go.”

34

Chatter fell to whispers as I reached the top of the spiral stairs. Groups of two, three, and four students meandered at intervals, and I imagined what stories their hushed tones told. I spied Elren Xen at the opposite end beyond the clusters of gossipers in a group of three, but his friend Johin was nowhere to be seen. I focused straight ahead as I passed each group, offering them not so much as a glance, but when I arrived at my room, I found the frail boy I’d met on the exercise field rapping softly on my door.

“Harbon? What are you doing here?”

He turned, smiled, and then the rest of his features relaxed in something akin to relief. “Oh, good. You’re breathing.”

“I am.”

He lowered his gaze then picked the fingernails of one hand with the other. “I worried you might have fallen when I saw Master Welling carry you off the field.”

Although I found his concern touching, his words brought wonderment. “And yet you knock at my door.”

He half-shrugged. “What better way to find out if you lived? I stopped at the infirmary, but you weren’t there. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Well, thank you for your concern.” My attention shifted to Elren’s group. The others there diverted their gazes, but Elren made no effort to hide his conspiratorial expression.

Harbon of Millbury followed my line of sight. “Let’s go inside. We have to leave the door open, but there are no rules against my being there. Is that okay?”

I imagined the drawer of my simple dresser holding the scrolls I’d smuggled. How I longed to use them. But Harbon had come out of concern for me where others whispered behind my back. “Fine. Yes. Come in.”

After unlocking the door, I ushered Harbon inside. He flashed a hard glare down the hall in Elren Xen’s direction before his features softened and he crossed the threshold. As he cocked his chin toward the window, he said, “Come have a look.”

We stared out onto the barren green field. Three wide gashes of blackened soil cut through the grass to cross one another.

I sighed. “Don’t remind me.”

“Just wait a minute. Watch.”

“What am I looking for?”

“Shh.” He pressed a finger to his lips.

A moment later, two figures adorned in white plate armor with gold trim crossed into view. They stood tall and walked across the field side by side. Their coverings gave the impression of broad shoulders, although I couldn’t really tell.

“Who are they?”

“Templars. They came through the portal room an hour ago. About a dozen of them. They met up with their commander on the front lawn before splitting into pairs. Then the patrols began.”

“Right. But who are they?”

“They’re an order of warriors whose stronghold is far in the northern mountains. The Hall of Templars, I believe they call it.”

“Are they a religious sect?”

“You could say that. They dispatched one soldier to the chapel. He’s been circling it since he arrived. That seems to imply some level of respect for holy places.” He cocked his chin again, this time in the soldiers’ direction. “But look at those weapons. I wouldn’t want to cross paths with them.”

I eyed the massive wrapped hilt of a long sword sheathed and bouncing on one man’s back. The other’s weapon was an axe with a head of such breadth, it could only be wielded by two strong hands. I probably couldn’t heft its blade off the ground if I tried. My focus waned when my mind wandered to the cave where so many scrolls hid beneath the soil behind a rock. Even if I read the ones tucked in my dresser, I doubted I’d rank up enough to channel The Source safely, and a trip to the cave to study the runes I’d seen in the remaining tome was going to prove a challenge if I couldn’t get into the chapel.

Harbon broke the stream of my thoughts. “You still in there?”

“What? Oh. Yeah. Just thinking.”

“It’s not your fault, you know. You didn’t ask them to come here.”

“The demons, you mean? Well, there are things you don’t know.”

“Probably. But my ears are at your service, if you want to talk about it.”

When the soldiers passed out of my sightline on the opposite side from which they entered, I turned my attention to Harbon. His cheeks were concave with little whiskers popping out at the disparate intervals of a young man who could only grow a patchy beard, at best. Although his flesh was somewhat pale, his gray eyes shone with a bright alertness. A line of gray colored his otherwise auburn hair where it parted on one side. A narrow cleft chin rounded out his features.

“Don’t feel obligated. I’m just letting you know I’m here if you want to talk.”

“I don’t feel that way. I just wouldn’t know where to start. The last few days seem like weeks when compared to the slow pace of farm life. I’ve nearly died a few times.” I leaned my head back and stared up at the ceiling. “Now that the words escape my lips, I wonder why I’m still here.”

“A few times?”

Warmth rushed to my face, and I shrugged one shoulder in an attempt to counteract its effect. Then I tilted my head toward the field. “Demons like these burned our farm and murdered my father. They chased me on my horse—who I had to abandon—then the snow nearly killed me. Oh, and I shouldn’t discount my conflict with a wolf.”

One eyebrow jumped twice. “Did you burn it?”

A fresh recollection of Brunk raising the wolf overhead and cracking its back on his knee washed across my mind. Although Harbon seemed harmless, and even kind of nice, I wasn’t ready to reveal the presence of my new friend to anyone. If Johin called Shabana a beast our first morning of classes, I could imagine what others with similar dispositions at the academy might do if they learned about the rock troll sheltering in a cave outside town.

I nodded. “Something like that.”

“So, it’s all true.” His gaze shifted to the scorched soil. “You did all that.”

I hesitated, but there was no denying it. There’d been witnesses. “Considering the whispers when I came up the stairs, I think word has traveled and you already know the answer to that question.”

“I didn’t mean to pry. But you can’t blame them for being a little in awe of you. I mean, no disrespect, but you aren’t level fifty, yet you wield such power. No one understands how you do it.”

While I could have confided in him my suspicions that the demon’s Empowerment spell accounted for the majority of the power I’d wielded, and that he’d given it to me hoping I’d kill Roshan, I squinted with suspicion instead. “And what? You want to understand?”

He flashed both palms and waved them. “Not at all. If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to. I mean, you barely know me. I’m thrilled you even let me in your room.”

My muscles relaxed. “You showed the good taste of distrusting Johin the first day of class. Anyone with such refined judgment is welcome.” I chuckled.

His expression hardened. “That one is not to be trusted.”

“What’s the source of your ire with him, exactly?”

“He’s a bully. Latched onto me the day I walked onto campus. His loose lips hurl insults without regard. He’s the entitled son of a powerful man in Trowlsby. The high chancellor of the council there. And he makes little effort to hide it. But I don’t have to tell you. Didn’t he lock you in a room in The Below or something?”

I nodded. “Guess word really does travel around here.”

“Small minds gossip. I’m sure you know that.”

“Actually, I don’t. Or I didn’t. Outside of the occasional traveling zealot or tax collector, I didn’t cross paths with many people until just days ago.”

He folded his arms across his chest then turned his body toward the window, where he tracked a wispy line of clouds painted orange by the setting sun. “You probably want to go back to the farm, then.”

“I don’t think there’s anything left. I’ve met a few people who seem nice. My employer is wonderful. Shabana has been a boon.” I nudged his arm with my elbow. “You don’t seem so bad.”

“Thanks. I’m glad my nosiness doesn’t offend.”

“Cast away the thought.” The patrol appeared again. This time they strolled into view from the opposite direction along the edge of the field, closer to us. Their heads turned constantly from side to side as they scanned for trouble.

We stood in companionable silence for a minute. From the corner of my eye, I caught the subtle turn of his head. His gaze lingered on me for a long moment.

“Is there a bug in my ear?”

“W-What?” he stuttered. “No. I was just— “ He reached up and I jerked. A slow smile crossed his lips as his hand paused in midair. “Trust me?”

I considered for a moment, then nodded.

He pinched a thin strand of my hair and pulled it toward him. A strange warmth passed over my body, although I didn’t find his gaunt features attractive. “It suits you, but I don’t think it was like this before.”

My eyes widened as I reached for the strand and held it out. It was white as the snow in which I’d nearly frozen to death. “What in the world?”

He shrugged.

I dropped the strand then yanked handfuls of hair forward to check them. “Is there more?”

He shook his head, chuckling. “No. Just that bit.”

I thought of Mora and Magister Leira. They had strands of gray like that. Then my eyes jumped to Harbon’s line of gray along the part in his own hair.

He shook his head. “My father has the same gray line. An unfortunate gift he passed down. I suspect your casting earlier caused yours.” It was like he’d read my mind.

“Is it common?” I recalled Roshan’s shining raven hair. “Does shadow magic cause this?”

He shrugged both shoulders. “I’d be the last to know. I joined the Light school for a reason.”

The patrol passed out of sight again, which brought an idea. “I wonder if you’d do me a favor.”

Harbon replied without hesitation. “Just ask it.”

“I need to go to the chapel tomorrow, but I’d like to avoid being seen.”

His eyebrows knit together. “Wanting to visit the altar for a blessing, are you?”

“A blessing?”

He nodded. “Roshan can cast buffs upon people at the altar. They last a full day. You know, Stamina and the like.”

“She can choose the buff?”

He shook his head. “It’s random. Her goddess decides.”

“Her goddess? Do I sense a shortfall of piety, Master Harbon?”

He chuckled. “I don’t find my fate is changed either way by prayer. When I was alone in the world, starving, the goddess didn’t send bread.”

“How did you survive?”

“Like I told you. I went to Millbury, where I met a man who knew what the faculty were doing here. Since I had a mana pool, he saw me fed then brought here.”

“Oh. That’s right.”

He gazed at me in silence, as if waiting for a response. Since my intentions had nothing to do with the altar or the priestess, and I didn’t want to give away my intent to leave town, I didn’t answer. He finally broke the silence. “So, if you want, I’ll watch the guard and let you know when it’s clear, but you might want to wait until tomorrow morning. Since there are no classes, I expect the others students will sleep in. If you’re up early, you could be in and out before they return. I imagine working a farm all your years leaves you no stranger to an early rise.”

“You imagine correctly.”

“I’ll knock on your door tomorrow, then. Should I also watch for Master Roshan?”

“It would be nice to know if she’s around.”

That seemed to satisfy his curiosity. Or at least tamp it down. He nodded and stepped away from the window. “You coming for the late meal?”

“You’re going to find out soon enough, so I’ll just tell you. I’m not a student anymore. I’ll be moving to the Master’s Dormitory tomorrow. So, I doubt I’ll be eating my meals in the dining hall.”

“Oh.” One side of his nose twitched. “Too bad. I would’ve enjoyed a little company. But hey, the masters probably eat well, and if you end up dining with them, you might pick up some tricks.” He paused. His forehead wrinkled. “Or will you be giving up magic?”

“No, I plan on learning magic. Let’s just say arrangements are being made.”

“Ah, I see.” But his tone left understandable doubt. “Well, I’m going to eat. Can I sneak you something?”

“A very kind offer, thanks. But no. I have some food stashed away from work. It’ll sustain me.”

“I’ll take your leave, then.” When Harbon left, he closed the door behind him. Then I rushed over and turned the lock as if someone might come rushing in the second he was gone.

A moment later, I was yanking open my dresser, shoving aside my few clothing items, then withdrew the scrolls. I flipped the cap off the first cylinder, dumped the parchment onto the bed, then carefully unrolled the dry paper lest I tear it. At first, the runes appeared as scribbles, then they shifted before my eyes to form readable letters.

Lesser Scroll of Intellect

Permanently adds two Intellect to the reader’s attributes.

Type: Magic Scroll

Level Requirement: N/A

Requires Runecrafting skill of rank 10.

Required Language: Elven

With a Runecrafting rank of 11, I barely fit the bill. I imagined what Baba called nosy nags pressing their ears to my door as I eyed the lettering, then I read the scroll in a voice I hoped was too low to hear. “Manta Bupestra Scintala Rashay.”

My skin glowed then golden rays shot through my pores. An instant later, the light was gone. I eyed the crack under my door in wonderment as to whether it could’ve been seen by others.

Stop being so darned paranoid!

A message box popped up on the left side of my interface.

Congratulations!

You have read:

Lesser Scroll of Intellect.

You have gained two points of Intellect.

+16 Mana

Your Runecrafting skill has reached rank 12.

Another pleasant surprise. Gaining a skill point when I hadn’t actually drawn a rune. I balled a fist, pumped it in victory, then switched to the main tab in my interface. It displayed only the stats I wanted to see instead of the longer form, for which I was thankful.

Contessa of Millbury

Human

Level 9 Thaumaturge

Strength: 14

Dexterity: 4

Intelligence: 8 (1)

Wisdom 4

Constitution: 27

Charisma: 6

The scroll disintegrated into shimmering motes that drifted then evaporated into thin air. It made sense such an item would only be usable once if the goddess desired the balance among beings in Enora.

I dumped the next scroll out then unrolled it. The runes on this one seemed simpler, with fewer lines and symbols. Although I didn’t know why, blurring my vision as I stared at them caused them to slither across the page and unfold into text faster than the last.

Lesser Scroll of Wisdom

Permanently adds two Wisdom to the reader’s attributes.

Type: Magic Scroll

Level Requirement: N/A

Requires Runecrafting skill rank 10.

Required Language: Elven

The same fanfare involving my glowing pores and a sense of power rushing through my blood followed when I read.

Congratulations!

You have read:

Lesser Scroll of Wisdom.

You have gained one point of Wisdom.

+2 mana recovery per second while in combat

+4 mana recovery per tick while out of combat

Your Runecrafting skill has reached rank 13.

My mind wandered to my friend working across town at Looli’s in my stead. I found myself longing to share these achievements with her. I’d have considered sharing the scrolls if it hadn’t been for the events of recent days suggesting I’d need every advantage I could get if was I going to survive. A certain demon had dared expose himself on the academy grounds, and I inferred from his brazenness that a conflict lingered in my future.

And when you kill him, what then?

I shook my head at my inner voice. I’d deal with that wild boar when I came to it.

Perched on the edge of my bed staring out the window, I planned the next day. If I got out of town early enough, if I remained undetected, and if I could read the pile of scrolls or some subset of them before I returned, then I might be better prepared for Wizen the Cruel.

Or you could serve at my side and harness power you’ve never imagined.

“You killed my father. You tried to force me to kill Roshan.” I stood and stared out the window. The sun had just dipped below the mountains. “If you think I would help you in any way, you’re delusional.”

You will come of your own accord or by force. It makes no difference to me, Contessa of Millbury.

“How do you penetrate my mind, demon?” My fists balled up until my fingernails dug into my palms’ flesh. I closed my eyes and focused hard, trying to force him out of my head. Then, his words ceased.

Had I locked him out of my mind? It was impossible to say. But I didn’t speak to him again, and Wizen didn’t respond.

The room gave a harsh tilt, and I clutched the quilt atop my mattress hoping to steady myself. When the moment passed, my senses seemed to sharpen. The world around me became clearer.

Dracin Welling has spent eight attribute points on your behalf.

You have gained 5 points of Intellect.

You have gained 3 points of Wisdom.

Although the interaction with Wizen the Cruel dampened the experience, I took solace that my binding to an ally like Dracin Welling presented these boons. My new mentor would empower me so one day I could burn my mortal enemy to ashes. And that was something to be thankful for.

35

Raps upon my door yanked me from my slumber. When I came to, the outside was awash in black, and I realized I’d nodded off. An image of my father’s coarse, whiskery face evaporated, so I knew I’d been dreaming about him, but the image slipped away as quickly as the circumstances in my sleep stories. I grunted as I kicked off the quilt then crossed the room.

My hand shot out for the curved bronze door handle then stopped as memories of yesterday piled high. Wizen the Cruel. Roshan’s horrified features when she detected my fever. The magister’s distrust. The Shadow caster who’d silenced me. But the abundance of caution came predominantly from the last still image of the other students whispering in the hall.

Why had they been there, if not to witness my return? Elren didn’t even reside on the top floor. They’d gathered to see me, and that fact sent warning chills through me.

“Tess?”

I cracked open the door, peeked, then swung it wide. “Shabana. Thank the goddess.”

She held out a folded cloth, its black sheen divided by velvety trim. “I come bearing gifts. May I come in?”

“What in Enora?” I eyed the robe as I waved her in, then I closed and latched the door. Rules that applied to students of the opposite sex sharing space in a private setting surely didn’t apply to students of the same sex, but I hadn’t cared before, and I certainly didn’t now as I wiped the remaining sleep from my untended eye.

“Did I catch you slumbering?” Shabana set down the clothing, straightened my quilt, then sat at the bottom of my bed. Although she’d caught me sleeping, her posture didn’t indicate any intent to let me return to it. Somehow, her entitlement brought half a smile to my lips, and I found I had no desire to hide it. Her single betrayal lingered far behind us.

“Yes, I turned in early. How was Looli’s?”

Her chin dropped. “If I didn’t know how challenged you were, I’d count you the luckiest woman in Warrington. How did you manage to land such a sweet employer? She came to the kitchen and with fresh queries about you every time she whittled down the line out front. What did you do to so endear her?”

“Are you implying I don’t endear you to me thusly?”

“Bite me, Tess.”

“I would never.”

“It’s an expression.”

“Quite a strange one. Another foundation thing?”

She nodded. “Don’t try to change the subject. I don’t know what you did, but I doubt your charisma score is high enough to have made Looli so concerned for you. What is it about you that draws our love?”

I jerked. “Is it love, then?”

“Again, with the subject change.”

“Bite me, Shabana.”

“More proof of how quickly you adapt. Since you don’t endeavor to answer, I’ll change the subject to one of my choosing.”

“When I don’t follow your social etiquette, you make new rules?”

She tapped her nose. “Exactly.”

I didn’t question the gesture this time.

Shabana grabbed the robe then snapped it in front of her. After it unfurled, she held it up for examination. “I got my tailoring up to skill rank twenty before I left the foundation, so it’s capped until I reach level ten in combat ranking. The weaving master let me work on this after hours the night before last. I figured you’re going to need it.”

“It’s for me?” My heart thumped against my ribs with excitement as I winked my eyes in succession.

Acolyte’s Robe of Magic Resistance

Level 7

Type: Robe

Slot: Torso

Quality: Uncommon

Durability: 50 of 50

+2 Damage inflicted with Shadow spells

Magic attack damage reduced by 15%

Movement impairing effect duration cut by 50%

+.05% movement speed

“But its attributes. They’re for…”

She cocked one eyebrow and pressed her lips together. “What? For Shadow casters?” She tilted her head back and laughed. When she did, the robe jostled in her grip and she dragged it toward her heaving bosom where it quaked with her. “Oh, Tess. You’re so naive.” Her laughter receded to a chuckle, then she trained her eyes on me. “You think you’re so slick, don’t you? So amusing. But we’re in the school of Light. Don’t you think people detected you the moment you came into class? And besides, I was there when you cast that demon all the way across the plateau at the foundation. Have you ever heard of Light magic that does that?”

I projected the humorous sensations lifting my spirits through an exaggerated sideways twist of my lips. “I lack the perspective to know either way.”

She tossed me the robe. “Try it on. I couldn’t get it to pop Intellect, but you might be able to use your augmentation stone on it.”

Pop intellect?

I ran my thumbs over the robe then turned my gaze on Shabana.

She read me with ease… again. “You have nothing I’ve never seen, Tess. Would you like me to turn my back?”

“Of course not.” A lie, but she didn’t detect it, and I didn’t want to seem like some strange prude. I pulled the exercise shirt in which I slept over my head then slipped into the robe. Once I clasped all the clips down the front, I stretched my arms to display her creation. A warming sensation passed over me, and not just because of the thickness of the robe. “I love it, Shabana.” I threw my arms around her.

She hesitated, as if she hadn’t expected the embrace, then relaxed into it, holding me tightly. She whispered into my ear, “This is what friends do. Would you like to Augment it?”

I nodded with my face pressed into her shoulder.

Although she held it for me and I tried my best to steady my jumping hand, the level 7 robe proved a difficult subject when paired against my novice hands. I did gain a rank in augmentation regardless of the failure but found the process unforgiving.

Augmentation failed.

You may not try to augment this item again until your Augmentation skill has reached rank 5.

Shabana read the disappointment in my features. She gave my back two firm claps. “Well, at least I know you fail at something.”

“I fail at everything.”

She shook her head and then smirked. “Go to sleep Tess. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As she turned toward the door, I snatched her wrist then pulled her toward me to kiss her cheek. It was much smoother than Baba’s had been. “Thank you, Shabana. You’re a good friend.”

Her face colored a little, then her head bobbed almost imperceptibly. “It was the least I could do. Now, back to sleep. You must be exhausted after today. We’ll catch up tomorrow.”

“I’ll be gone in the morning, but I’ll come get you in the afternoon.”

“Where are you going?”

I didn’t want to draw her into my temporary escape when so many things could go wrong. I could be caught leaving, or worse, and she would be associated with my misdeeds. So, I shook my head. “Some secrets I must also keep.” I shooed her with both hands. “Go. Go, go, go.”

* * *

When the first hint of light graced the field behind the dormitory the next morning, I lingered at my window in wonderment about a new pair elven guards patrolling. I was inside what had been described as an instance, which I’d understood to mean a place set aside from the outside world. Just when the concept started to take root, the silence of the predawn morning allowed for contemplation, and any understanding I’d gained was washed away.

If the interior of the academy was a magical space separated from the outside world, how was it I could see the leather-clad elves pacing across the field outside? Was my window real, or some portal through which I viewed the outside world?

From the day I’d fled the farm, my mind window had bloomed into this incredible tool that read my thoughts, showed me what I wanted to see in an instant, and displayed much more than I’d ever imagined possible. Then there were the combat ranks. The spells. The occupational information. It was an ever-expanding source of information that tracked my progress through life.

Did the goddess protect our innocence by binding us to our parents at birth? Did other peoples’ sires prepare them for the day they’d be unbound? How many remained bound for longer than seventeen years? Could it be that non-combatant, rural people like me often spent their whole lives without the added knowledge?

No. Then their parent would die, they’d become unbound, and they might be quite old themselves. None of it made any sense. I’d just have to operate within the context of what I knew then try to learn more. Baba was gone, which meant I’d never get the answers I really wanted. But it would’ve been nice to know what a strange world I’d actually lived in all that time I was pulling weeds.

As they crossed the field, the leather-clad guard raised his torch. His partner, a white-haired woman with braids reaching halfway down her back, waved a hand and extinguished the fire in an instant. The first opened a small bag on his hip then stuck the head of the torch inside. I watched, bemused. It would never fit. But then the torch vanished!

“What in the utter—”

A tap so quiet I wondered if I’d actually heard it came at my door. I cracked it, spied Harbon shifting his gaze in either direction, then poked my head out.

His voice came in a low whisper. “Good, you’re dressed. New robe?”

“Yes. A gift from a friend.”

“I guess Shabana’s quite the weaver.” He cocked an eyebrow then cast his gaze to the right. “Roshan left the temple and is on her way down the street. Don’t know where she’s going. The guards changed a little while ago, but if you time your entry through the back while the new one is patrolling toward the gate in front, you should be able to slip by. But you also have to keep an eye out for the two who patrol the fields. They’re pacing a wide arc around the dormitories, to the back of the chapel, then turning back. So, you’ll have to watch both directions.”

It warmed my heart that he’d not only watched for an opening but also tracked their movements to my benefit. “This is so nice of you. How long did you watch?”

He shrugged. “Just for a little while last night, then a bit this morning. Since they’ve asked the students to stay inside the academy until we’re sure the demons are gone, it proved a little tricky. “ He threw his arms to the side. “I kind of stand out. But I kept to the shadows and evaded notice.”

“Stealthy, are you?”

“I’ve been known to keep a low profile. When you’re on your own in the wilderness, it suits. But enough of that. If you’re going, this is the time. You can watch the guard from the side door of the western dormitory. When he wraps around the chapel, keep a keen eye to the right for the patrol. I tested the path and checked the door to ensure it was unlocked. You should be fine.”

“Why are you helping me, Harbon?”

Again, he shrugged, but this time with only one shoulder and less effort. “Because you’ve had a hard time of it lately, and I know how that feels. Your gratitude is appreciated, but you should cast it off so you can focus on your task. I don’t know where you’re going or what you’re up to, but I would appreciate your assurances that you’ll be careful.” He picked at a fingernail. “I don’t have many friends here, and it’d suit me if you come back in one piece.”

I was suddenly so elated to have another person to trust, I decided to display it. I reached into my dresser and retrieved the key to the Währsager’s Study. “If anything happens to me, will you please see that Master Welling gets this?”

“Oh. Um, yes.” The lines of his forehead deepened. “I’ll see to it.”

Without thinking, I pressed my lips to his cheek. A surge of warmth washed over me, but I forced it away. “Thank you.”

His lips twisted into a surprised smile. “You’re welcome. Now, go.”

I reached up to touch the end of the staff strapped to my back and wondered if I was mistaken to feel a sense of security from its presence. After all, I wasn’t exactly proficient in its wielding. Harbon stepped away from my door and pattered in the opposite direction as I turned right, headed for the stairs at the other end of the landing.

At the end downstairs hallway, I peeked into the library. No one manned the desk, and I didn’t spy any early risers occupying the long tables, so I sped across the space. When I reached the other end, another quick glance confirmed the hallway was empty. My heart pounded in my chest as the door leading outside seemed to creep further away. But I closed the distance, and when I finally arrived, I peeked through the windows.

An elf in full white plate circled the back of the chapel. My heart skipped a beat as I hid behind the door. When I knew I’d evaded detection, my pulse resumed the lesser, though still accelerated, thumping.

The elf circled the chapel, then stopped. His head whipped around.

I ducked. As I crouched behind the door with my head below the little windows, I imagined a student popping into the hallway and seeing me—the girl who cut swaths of hellfire through the field and drew demons to the academy—hiding like the little wretch she was.

When I summoned the courage, I raised my head just enough to peek out. The chapel guard was speaking to the two I’d seen in the field. A silent curse that didn’t honor the goddess skittered through my mind.

Just my luck. Move on, people.

Just a few moments later, they returned to their routes. When I was certain they’d have rounded the corners that would block their sightline of the cobblestone walkway, I yanked open the door, slipped through, held it so it closed silently, then skipped every other stair as I sped toward the chapel.

My head swiveling in both directions, I dashed for the door. It felt like it took four days to get there. When I slipped inside, I expected to see Roshan waiting for me. Although bathed in the Light, something about that woman put the creeps in me. Like she possessed a sensor to detect mischievous young people. Maybe because she knew I was one.

But the room was barren, and I slipped into the side room without problems. I cast Inner Illumination in the dim space, then made haste down the stairs.

Your Light Magic skill has reached rank 3.

I had a fleeting thought about the strange world nestled beneath the simple one in which I was raised, then the sight of the grate at the bottom of the stairs whipped it away. Johin had struggled to raise the thick, iron dome that day they’d trapped me in the Währsager’s study.

Could I do it? I bent at my knees, grasped the handle with both hands, then heaved.

It didn’t budge.

I grunted with effort as I tried again. Then I noted the latch on one side that held the grate in place. I flipped the obstruction away. It squeaked, and the sound echoed through the narrow space. I swept my gaze toward the stairs behind me, but no one was there. Of course no one was there.

Calm down.

But no matter how I tried, I couldn’t calm the thumping in my chest. There’d be no relaxing until I was safely back in my room.

So I might as well get on with it.

This time, the grate eased back with little struggle. I relished the knowledge of how weak Johin was as I stepped onto the ladder, reached for the handle on the underside, then pulled the grate down before descending. Last time, I’d left it open, and after the wolf had attacked me, I’d looked up to find Roshan staring down through the opening. I didn’t want to draw her suspicions if she just happened to check the area like she had that day.

When I reached the bottom, I sped up the circular channel running under the academy until I reached the metal barring it from the outside. After a quick glance into the open field for any signs of demons, I pushed open the secret door and dashed into the field.

A snake bit me.

36

Although the robe was a perfect fit and its lower hem nearly swept the ground, it rose up my leg with each step, just enough for the serpent to strike. Pain shot from my ankle up to my shin. I might have jumped on top of the city wall with shock of the sudden attack. My legs only carried me a few feet away as I wheeled to find the culprit.

At least six feet long, its dull black coat of scales rendered it nearly invisible in the low morning light. It raised its head then swayed it in a circle as its gaze held mine. I’d learned enough about my interface at this point to expect a message alerting me that I’d been poisoned, but it never came. Moist warmth flowed from my ankle where the beast struck.

Fieldsnake uses Bite

Hit!

-16 HP

The snake’s head rose higher.

Then something inside me snapped. The constant rapping of my heart against my ribs pumped harder. I ground my back teeth. As I raised my arm to grasp my staff, I winked my eyes in succession to measure my challenge.

Fieldsnake

Level 7 reptile

Although non-venomous, these snakes possess long fangs known to puncture vital organs and cause long bleeding effects.

Melee Power Rating: 12

Melee Defense Rating: 8

Ranged Power Rating: 1

Ranged Defense Rating: 9

Magic Power Rating: 1

Magic Defense Rating: 1

I counted myself lucky it’d only struck my ankle, but the way its head rose to my waist level accentuated my interface’s warning.

The snake’s head snapped forward.

I twirled my staff, and it jerked back. “You’re not my first snake, and you probably won’t be my last.” While gauging the potential of a staff strike against an agile target, I recalled the sensation that’d coursed through me when I dueled with Dracin Welling for a short stint in the chapel. I drew one hand from the staff, bent my fingers into a claw, then repeated the gesture I’d seen from the model in my spells tab. The same sensation I’d had before coursed through my arm, then my hand glowed orange.

You cast Fiery Bonds on Fieldsnake

My mana bar ticked down to account for the fifty points spent as the glowing strings of fire reached up from the ground and twisted around the serpent. They flexed, then the serpent’s body was pinned to the ground.

Your Shadow Magic skill has reached rank 12.

The reptile writhed, and its thick body pulsed with the effort to escape. If I received the full effect, the binding would last seven seconds, which left me almost no time to decide whether I’d stay and fight or get a significant head start.

Fieldsnake

-7 HP (Fiery Bonds)

91% HP Remaining

The idea of fleeing from the beast when it was flush with the ground set a standard Baba would’ve frowned upon. If I started running now, I might never stop. So, I raised my staff high overhead, then brought it down.

You attack Fieldsnake.

Miss!

I cursed, raised the staff, then struck again. This time, the wooden shaft thumped against the snake’s thick body. The snake wiggled from head to toe as it tried to flee the fiery bonds. Smoke rose from where the glowing ropes pulled it down. When I drew my weapon away, a dent remained, but eventually the scales rose as the flesh beneath inflated again.

My spell tab popped up in a side frame as I sought to remember my new abilities, but just as I laid eyes on one, a growl from behind brought my head around.

Plains Wolf

While most wolves travel in packs, Plains Wolves are a territorial and competitive breed that often end up going it alone.

Level 8 Beast

Melee Power Rating: 16

Melee Defense Rating: 22

Ranged Power Rating: 1

Ranged Defense Rating: 1

Magic Power Rating: 1

Magic Resistance Rating: 1

“Dammit!” Although its head hung low as it glared up at me, the wolf jerked when I cursed. My gaze snapped between the lupine and the serpent. The glowing ropes dimmed, and I knew it was now or never. I stared at the spell name in the panel and focused.

I clutched my staff with both hands as a bar appeared in the top-center of my interface and began to fill. It would take three seconds to complete, but a sudden hiss from behind signaled my time was up. I leapt to one side without looking. The snake’s head burst past me and just missed my hip. I whipped the staff around and, in what I would’ve called the luckiest moment in my life just a week earlier, struck it in the side of its narrow head.

You strike Fieldsnake.

Critical Hit!

Fieldsnake

- 15 HP

59% HP Remaining

Fieldsnake is stunned.

Sweat dripped into my eyes when I spun on the wolf who crept in a circle around me on the opposite side. I suspected the beast caught sight of the fieldsnake and was trying to pin me in while keeping itself at a distance from the second threat, but I might have been giving the beast too much credit.

Knowing the serpent was stunned but not for how long, I cast again. The seconds ticking off seemed like years when the wolf bared his teeth and another low growl emanated from deep in its belly.

A sizzle filled my ears followed by a low hum, then out of the corner of my eye, an ethereal hole sliced the fabric of space with a glowing purple perimeter. A winged creature with glowing golden eyes burst into the world with flaming wings that painted orange tracers against the low light.

The wolf ’s paws skittered backward when it spied the apparition.

You cast Summon Lesser Fire Spirit.

Mantalayana has been born into Enora!

A high-pitched voice emanated from the hovering creature though its lips didn’t move. “I’m here, master! Command me!”

Although the majestic sight of my new ally overwhelmed me, I stifled my wonderment. “Kill the wolf!”

“Yes, master!”

The fire spirit zipped through the air then landed on the wolf’s back. Although I’d expected fire breath, Mantalayana grinned so wide it seemed unnatural, then sank rows of sharp, golden teeth into the wolf’s shoulder. A narrow wave of fire tore down the animal’s leg as it snapped at the lesser fire spirit over one shoulder then twisted to try the other.

Hoping the spirit had the battle in hand, I wheeled on the snake. Its head lashed forward but I dodged at the last moment then swept my staff across my body as I had when stopping the high bar on the practice dummies in class. The snake’s head whipped sideways with the impact.

Your Dodge skill has reached rank 3.

You have learned a new combat skill!

Parry

Use a melee weapon to deflect an incoming attack.

+0.5% chance to parry the attacks of enemies of equal or lower level

Your parry skill has reached rank 1.

I swept away the combat messages with a thought so I wouldn’t be distracted. When the snake was dead, I could read.

Heat rose from my feet as the snake retreated, turned, then raised its head high.

Pain shot up the back of my leg, and I twisted away from the wolf. It had clamped down on my muscle, and my reaction resulted in it tearing both my robe and my flesh, making my agony worse. Blood saturated my tattered hem and dripped to my shoes.

The fire spirit whipped in from above then landed again, this time atop the beast’s head. She clamped down on one ear, then another fire stream poured down the wolf’s back. When she launched, she came away with a chunk of flesh, and blood poured from the wound.

I twisted too late to avoid the snake’s next strike. It latched onto my hip. Explosions of pain tore across my waist as its fangs punctured deep.

“Son of a—!” Without thought, I dropped my staff, grabbed the serpent behind its head, and yanked it away. When I yanked it up, its yellow eyes glared as its mouth opened wide. White fangs hung from its gaping mouth. It snapped, trying to reach for the hand that gripped it, but the angle was wrong for the serpent.

And right for me.

It wiggled and struggled, but couldn’t break free of my gasp. I wielded it like a flexible staff as I twisted on the wolf. The burned animal snapped at the air. Mantalayana dodged with a quick zip to the right, distracting it.

“Weee!” The spirit yelled. “I think I’ve enraged it, master!”

Well, at least the wolf was distracted. I whipped the snake over my head then slammed its body into the soil. Then again. And again. Then I stomped down to pin its thick body as chills coursed up my spine. I missed, then missed again, but finally my heel found purchase and pinned it.

I stared into its eyes a final time. “And that spells the end for you.” With all my weight leaning onto the foot of the leg that hadn’t been injured, I yanked the snake’s head skyward. A sound like rope under strain as a horse dragged a plow across a field was followed by a sickening pop. Then the life drained out of the serpent’s eyes. I stomped on its head.

You have defeated a level 7 Fieldsnake.

+ 247 XP

When I turned again, the wolf twisted away from my summoned spirit, hunched low, then growled at me. The red liquid in my health indicator filled only half. My Stamina meter blinked a furious warning. I was going to have to end this, or it would end me.

The Spells tab latched to my interface window on the right and, when I focused on the list, I spied a potential winner. “Dammit. I need to study these things.” I threw out my hand while focusing on the name of the spell. Lilac waves of light channeled from the palm of my hand to engulf the wolf’s head. For good measure, my fire spirit used the distraction to attack again. I brought up my combat log to measure the new spell’s effectiveness.

Your Shadow Magic skill has reached rank 13.

You cast Drain Life.

Liquid drained from the wolf’s health bar, and for every two ticks it lost, my own bar regained one.

Plains Wolf

-20 HP

-20 HP

You gain 20 HP.

A new pane popped open at the bottom center of my mind window.

Dracin Welling has invited you to a party chat.

Do you accept this request?

It pleased me when I managed to accept without breaking my channeled spell.

[Party:][Dracin Welling:] Is there a fieldsnake in your room this morning?

[Party:][Contessa of Millbury:] Bad timing.

[Party:][Dracin Welling:] Ah, yes, you have to finish the wolf. I’ll wait.

Although it was impossible to gauge his tone in text, his words reflected his sarcasm well enough. But I had more pressing matters. My mana bar ticked down with every second my spell channeled, and the wolf returned its attention to me when it realized it couldn’t reach my summon atop its head.

Your Shadow Magic skill has reached rank 14.

The wolf took a lurching step forward, but its legs quivered. It floundered then dropped to the ground. My mana bar flashed in warning, but my health and stamina bars sat around three-quarters full.

I might actually live to fight another day.

Mantalayana hovered into the air then a circle of twirling fire surrounded her and sent cascading ripples through the air. An explosion of flames shot out in all directions and engulfed the wolf. Its head rose, and it yipped in torment. Then it fell to the ground with a thump.

You have defeated a level 8 Plains Wolf!

+278 XP

With a final scan of the surrounding area, I sighed then dropped to my knees. The fire spirit dropped down and fluttered its wings a few feet in front of my face. When I realized I’d just missed the snake’s corpse, I jerked then tossed the flattened remnants away.

I labored to draw a deep, even breath, and after a few heated huffs, finally managed. The spirit swept through the air from left to right, then back to the center to face me. The flames dissipated, leaving an orange glow that revealed jagged yellow scales covering her entire body except for under the wings.

Mantalayana

Level 9 Lesser Fire Spirit

Fire spirits battle at their master’s side and provide direct damage to their enemies as well as buffs to their master’s combat abilities. At level ten, lesser fire spirits can be elevated to fire spirits, but a quest must be undertaken and completed.

Strength: 4

Dexterity: 12

Intelligence: 7

Wisdom: 8

Constitution: 9

Charisma: 10

“This adventuring thing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

The lesser fire spirit’s narrow lips spread wide “Oh, master. I had a glorious time. Could we find some more like that?”

“I can see you’re going to be trouble.”

“Yes, but quite the bargain at a cost of 100 mana, yes?” She nodded. “Yes, indeed.”

“Gah.”

[Party:][Dracin Welling:] I’m not seeing combat messages. Is there anything else you need to kill before you explain to me what you’re doing north of the city?

“Uh-oh,” I muttered.

The fire spirit nodded in short ticks of her narrow, pointed head. “Yup. Uh-oh!” She fluttered her wings, raised half a foot in the air, then dropped to eye level again. “Wait. What’s uh-oh?”

I shook my head in dismissal. “Nothing.” I should have been more excited at the prospect of a fire-wielding spirit, but I couldn’t draw the energy at the moment. A thought occurred.

[Party:][Contessa of Millbury:] You mean you can see where I am?

[Party:][Dracin Welling:] Maybe you didn’t get the full picture of what it means to be bound. What did you think we meant when we said you could be ‘monitored?’

[Party:][Contessa of Millbury:] I guess I didn’t give it much thought. Magister Leira scares me, and I wanted to be done with her.

[Party:][Dracin Welling:] Objective completed, then.

[Party:][Contessa of Millbury:] What?

[Party:][Dracin Welling:] Adventurer’s humor. Never mind. Now, why are you outside the walls?

[Party:][Contessa of Millbury:] If this master-student arrangement is going to work out, you’re going to have to trust me.

[Party:][Dracin Welling:] I don’t have to do anything, Tess. I am the master, you are the acolyte. You would do well to remember this.

A moment passed then he continued.

[Party:][Dracin Welling:] Do you require aid?

[Party:][Contessa of Millbury:] No, thank you. My leg is bloody, but it’s already healing itself. I’m just going to seek out a few more targets and try to level up. Do you object?”

[Party:][Dracin Welling:] Strenuously. But if you’ll promise to be careful, I’ll leave it be for now. Nothing above level 8, right?

[Party:][Contessa of Millbury:] I’ll do my best.

[Party:][Dracin Welling:] Good. When you return to town, perhaps we’ll discuss your progress, as well as how you managed to gain two points of Intellect before I spent your elective attribute points last night… when my map showed you were in your room.

I wondered if anything could happen that my new ‘master’ couldn’t see.

[Party:][Contessa of Millbury:] Fine.

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t end the party chat, either. I left it be. Then I reached into my pocket, withdrew a fruit wrap I’d stuffed in there, and bit off one end.

Note to self: Buff when leaving the confines of a safe space.

Mantalayana landed then peered up at me. “Is everything okay, master?”

Finally, wonderment struck me. “What the heck are you, exactly? How did you—where did you come from?”

“I was born from your spirit, master. I come from… nowhere, really.”

“How do you know language, then?”

“I don’t control these things, master. I just came.” She shrugged. It was such a sentient gesture, I couldn’t help but smile.

“Born of my spirit. Got it. Well, can I un-summon you?”

“Why in Enora would you do that?”

“Because I’m to visit a friend now, and I don’t want to scare him.”

“What if I promise to present a pleasant demeanor?”

I groaned.

“Yes, master. You can send me away with a thought. But I promise to keep a low profile” —the spirit dipped her head— “if you choose to keep me around.”

“How far away can you be at a given time?”

“Two hundred yards.”

I stood, dusted off my robe, then pulled at the fresh tear near my quad. Although the wound proved smaller than I’d thought and had healed, I was distraught at how I’d already damaged Shabana’s gift. A quick inspection revealed it’d lost ten points of durability. I released the cloth so it dropped to my ankles again.

“Fine. You can wait outside the cave.”

The fire spirit zoomed into the air, twisted in a circle, then dropped to hover over my shoulder as I penetrated the high grass that started about thirty yards away from the wall. I scanned ahead, wondering how many other snakes waited to attack when almost trod upon, then cocked my chin up. “Hey, why not make yourself useful.”

“Do you want me to scout ahead, master?”

“I do.”

The hovering spirit bowed then zoomed off into the distance. Gads, she was fast. I winked in succession to bring up the long form of her attributes. A moving image of her flying form appeared in the companion window in the exact posture she maintained as she flew ahead. I checked her attributes again, this time focusing on her abilities.

Mantalayana

Level 8 Lesser Fire Spirit

Special Abilities:

Flaming Bite

The lesser fire spirit clamps down on the enemy and spews a trail of fire for 11-16 damage per second for five seconds.

Burning Wave

The lesser fire spirit builds up a shockwave that does 15-21 DPS to all enemies within twenty yards.

Fiery Boon

The lesser fire spirit releases its heat-based energy to buff its master so damage from the Fire family of spells is increased by 10% for thirty seconds.

The cave came into sight just when the sun crested the peaks behind me so the specks of metal in the high rocks gleamed and glistened with each step. Although I’d seen it before, I was still taken by the beauty of the scene.

Mantalayana flew toward me. “All clear ahead, master. I spied another of those nasty wolves, but it’s way past the cave and is sleeping.

“We’ll try to keep quiet. But if my friend is in the cave, it won’t present much challenge.”

“Your friend is strong?”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

She zoomed toward the cave, landed on a rock formation just outside, then sat. Her flames dissipated as she patted down her yellow scales. I didn’t know why, and I didn’t care. Although I’d come with the intention of studying for half the day and hoping to learn more runes so I could read the scrolls, I longed to see the rock troll I’d befriended before. A ping of fear that he might have moved carved a void in my chest, but when I approached the cave and low rumbling sounds that could only be snores echoed off the walls, I smiled and the void was instantly filled.

Not wanting to surprise Brunk, I called into the cave. “Brunk? It’s Tess.” My voice circled and echoed back at me. A hitch in the snore. Then a grunt. The shuffling sound of cloth. “Brunk? It’s just me. Tess.”

“Tess?” His grizzled voice sounded excited. Then the rock troll appeared a moment later.

A smile crept across my face. Then my eyes dropped and my jaw followed. I spun around to face the high grass outside. “Brunk, you’re naked!”

The towering troll uttered a grunt. I tried to imagine the sight of his huge feet padding around the corner to replace the image of what I’d actually seen, but there was no use.

I hurried to the mouth of the cave and waited. Mantalayana remained perched on the jutting rock formation, her gaze focused southeast, toward Warrington and the university’s high spires. A minute or so later, Brunk cleared his throat.

Hoping he’d donned his shorts and ragged top again, I turned. By the time I completed my revolution, the unwelcome sight was long forgotten and I rushed forward. “Are you hurt?” Blood stains painted the front of his meager coverings. I hadn’t noticed any injuries, and that he’d been snoring when I entered the cave should’ve tipped me off that he was fine. But my mind didn’t always make sense.

“Fine. Fine.” He waved his free hand. “Must wash.” He accentuated the words by showing me his palms then turning them inward to rub them together.

Wash. Got it.

I made a note.

Seeing how the blood was caked all over, I understood why he slept nude that morning. “What happened?”

“Wolves.” He held up four fingers, then thrust a thumb over his shoulder. “Hungry?” He turned and hustled out of sight without waiting for an answer.

When I circled the curve, the ghosts of cooked meat wafted in the air. Gray and black furs hung from sharp rocks I’d noticed jutting from the walls the last time I’d come. Brunk reached behind the slab on which he slept then raised a small pouch. I watched with interest when he reached inside, withdrew raw meat strips, then set them on the rock.

A pile of split logs with small tinder lay in the opposite corner near the remnant ashes from his fire the night before. Stones encircled the leavings. The wood was several feet away, the furs were on the opposite wall, and it wasn’t like anything grew in the cave that would burn.

But if the rock troll surrounded his fires with stones like I might have done on the farm, I divined that he spent time in areas where it was necessary. I knew nothing about his race and found my interest piqued. At the same time, I was distracted. My attention went to the sitting stone in the corner, behind which was buried the treasure trove I’d whisked away from the Währsager’s study in The Below.

Brunk raised a sliver of meat. “Food?”

I eyed the rock troll, then the stone. Despite the fruit wrap I’d ingested, my stomach grumbled as I eyed the pink meat with marbles of fat. The prospect of its sizzle and pop over a fire teased. While it was possible the troll wouldn’t be the greatest cook, his musculature didn’t indicate he went hungry like Harbon. So, I nodded. “Yes. I would love some.”

He gestured toward the stone in the corner. “Sit.”

I hesitated, but the idea a troll would even care about scrolls and a tome buried behind a rock struck me as ludicrous. “I have some things there that I need to read. Is it okay if I do it here?”

Brunk’s thick, bushy eyebrows knitted together. “Things?” He turned his gaze on the stone, pushed out his bottom lip in an expression that struck me as very human, then half-shrugged. “Things. Mmm-hmm.” He turned away, grabbed a pointed stick from the wall behind his stone bed, then shoved the meat onto it. He dropped his hulking body onto the dirt, leaving the stone for me.

I circled the stool in trepidation as an unfounded fear crept through me. What if someone had discovered the items and left an empty hole behind? Brunk wasn’t here all the time, so someone could have found my contraband.

But when I saw the soil as flat as evenly spread as I’d left it, anticipation surged.

It was time to get to work.

37

While the dirt-covered cylinders remained in solid condition, the scrolls within displayed the tattered wrinkles of age, so I treated each with care as I sat on the stone. I became more discouraged with each I unrolled. No matter how I focused on the runes drawn onto their faces, they didn’t slide around and form coherent symbols like the lower-level scrolls I’d used in my room.

Scrolls Master Welling knew I’d used. There’s a conversation to look forward to.

I slid every scroll into its cylinder before opening a new one. By the goddess, it was irritating. I longed to read them all, to grow so I’d be better prepared if Wizen the Cruel resurfaced.

Not if, when.

I was ready to shove them all back in the ground, then I recalled the tome buried at the bottom of the pile. Hadn’t I seen some runes near the back when I’d flipped through its sturdier pages? Brunk’s head jerked up when I jumped from the stone and circled. A moment of panic washed over me when I didn’t find the tome where I thought I’d left it, but when I dug on the opposite side, I found it wrapped in cloth.

Did someone move it?

I eyed Brunk, but his attention had returned to the kindling he built into a triangle. The mere idea was stupid. No one was getting past him, and he hadn’t even known the stuff was there. Returning to my perch, I unclipped the leather strap winding around the side then flipped through the pages to where I’d left off. One by one, I turned the them as the scent of wolf meat thickened in the air. My stomach grumbled, but my focus was elsewhere. Then I came upon one of the notes in the margins that drew my attention.

Acolyte Shertan,

In the coming pages, you will find notes on Mana Weaving. While your Shadow affinity is respectable, it might never reach the threshold required to make use of this skill. It took me well over a century to grow my affinity high enough to combine my weaves to scry magic users. This is why I employed you to seek out the mana users I scried.

There are many keys that must be turned for you to excel, and it’s never too soon to start. Read this section thoroughly, then skip to the next section, and see my notes on runecraft, as I believe this is a skill set from which you would certainly benefit. I’ve procured scrolls penned in the ancient elven runes to aid in your advancement.

So, it hadn’t been wishful thinking. I had seen runes in the text. My patience conflicted with my anticipation when I carefully flipped each page, and I dogeared the first about Mana Weaving. I wondered what the Währsager would’ve thought about my prying eyes using his knowledge to my advantage, and a sense of satisfaction, almost like I was stomping on his corpse with each new thing I learned, warmed my blood.

I stopped turning pages when I spied a rune with a circle and three lines intersecting just off-center on the right. The text above was the same neat, slightly tilted scrawl that contrasted itself with the evil one’s jagged margin notes.

The Elven Rune Zhin

Zhin taps the power of water to channel Light magic into an object.

Best when combined with Wood, Stone, or other natural materials.

Although the requirements to assert Zhin are low, its power grows as a rune crafter increases in rank. Properly applied to quartz or other reflective rocks, it can create healing stones. In early ranks, the stones might only be used a single time before the magic property is spent, corrupting the stone and preventing further runes of Light magic from being cast upon it. But beware, these corrupted stones could be used by Runecrafters with powerful Shadow affinities to create fire, wind, and lightning explosives. Therefore, corrupted stones should be buried at least two feet deep after use if there are no Shadow casters with whom you can trust them.

To incite the power of Zhin requires a Runecrafting rank of 7.

Incantation:

Mu Fala Rint Zhin

My Occupations tab popped up in a frame so fast I wasn’t sure if my interface predicted my actions, or if the thought had passed through my head, first, but it confirmed what I already knew.

Runecrafting Rank: 13

I recalled the way my skin glowed when I read the scrolls in my room the previous night. It’d flashed in a similar way when I learned my first runes in the foundation’s wood shop. If learning these runes would help me understand the scrolls, a cave outside of town where no one could spy the effects was the perfect setting. But there was another occupant to consider.

I glanced up at Brunk just in time to see him drawing something in a small blanket of ashes he hadn’t swept away with the rest. The tip of his finger grazed the dusty surface with such care, and his tongue poked out of one side of his mouth as he focused. I inhaled through parted lips, preparing to ask him what he was doing, when the circle glowed orange, then flames burst through its lines and engulfed the kindling.

My jaw dropped, but Brunk just stood, reached for a wooden rod, then dropped it on top of the flames. Then he reached for the stick balanced on the slab and raised the meat over the fire. I gaped in awe, but closed my mouth when he glanced at me. His smile came wide, revealing the sharp yellowing teeth behind his lips.

“What did you just do?”

“Hmm?” He cocked one of those bushy eyebrows.

I shoved a crooked finger toward the fire. “That. How did you do that?”

“What? Fire?”

My chin bobbed impatiently. “Yes. The damned fire. How did you do that?”

“Ra.”

“Ra? What the heck is—”

Then I remembered. Again, with a simple thought, my interface popped back into view and scrolled down the list of runes I’d learned at the wood shop at the Fowler Foundation.

Ra

A fire-powered rune combined with higher runes to enhance weaponry.

In hopes that another thought would bring information in some vague place within my mind window, I cast it into the ether.

Ra.

But my interface remained still. I jumped up and slammed the tome closed. “You can draw runes in the sand? Wait! How is it you can draw runes at all?”

He pressed a finger to his lips. Another human gesture I’d never have expected. “Secret from masters.”

“Masters? You were taught by masters?”

Brunk’s eyebrows joined above the bridge of his nose while he squinted. “Taught?” Then his face relaxed. “Oh.” He shook his head. “No.” He turned sideways, then ran a few fingers over his stony shoulder. “Masters.”

I had to stand on tip toes despite his lowering it for me to see. Three deep scars only slightly lighter than the surrounding lime skin trailed over the shoulder and behind. From the depth in one corner, I deduced that someone raked an implement over the shoulder. Whatever it had been, it had claws that landed deep, then tore the flesh.

Congratulations!

You have learned Investigation.

Observe evidence, draw conclusions, test theories, and solve puzzles using your Investigation skill.

Your Investigation skill has reached rank 1.

You have unlocked the following sub-skills of Investigation

Observation

The likelihood you will notice evidence

Analysis

Dependency: Intelligence

Your ability to analyze evidence for meaningful clues

Deduction

Your ability to weigh evidence and draw logical conclusions

Dependency: Wisdom

Research

Your ability to conduct research to support your other Investigation sub-skills

Dependencies:

Wisdom, Intelligence

Organization

Your ability to organize evidence into meaningful order

Dependency: Intelligence

Interrogation

Your ability to draw information from parties in the pursuit of evidence

Dependency: Charisma

As if the world hadn’t just flipped over onto its head, Brunk circled the fire, reached into his bag, then pulled out a smaller leather pouch. Loosening the drawstring, he dipped a finger and thumb inside then withdrew a brownish powder and sprinkled it on the half-seared meat. Then he returned to the fire. My eyes perused the length of the scars as he dipped down to cook the wolf strip.

You are being offered a quest:

Products of Our Memories

Using your Investigation skill, get Brunk to open up about his past.

Objective 1: Learn where Brunk came from

Objective 2: Find out how reached the cave

Rewards:

Increase relevant sub-skills during investigation.

+200 Reputation with Brunk

3,500 XP

Up to three skill ranks in Investigation

While I didn’t need a quest to coax me forward, the fact I received one might be the goddess’s way of telling me Brunk could be important. Seeing as I had few friends in the world and considering I was drawn to the easy manner contrasting the brute force the rock troll exhibited, having a friend like him certainly couldn’t hurt. But the XP seemed significant. If I’d come to the cave to advance, leveling up would benefit me twofold.

I reread the quest, then focused on the word reputation listed as a reward.

Reputation/Dispositions

Despised: -451 or lower

Hostile: -201 > -450

Unfriendly: -1 > -200

Neutral: 0 > 200

Friendly: 201 > 450

Endeared: 451 > 600

Enamored: 601 > 700

Beloved: 701+

I glanced though my interface at Brunk as he tuned the stick to cook the other side of the meat.

Brunk

Current Disposition Score: 221

Disposition: Friendly

Next Rank: Endeared

Minimum Required Score: 451

Out of curiosity, I thought of Shabana’s disposition toward me, then a tab called Companions popped open.

Shabana

Current Disposition Score: 487

Disposition: Endeared

Next Rank: Enamored

Minimum Required Score: 601

That might have been useful information when I doubted her intentions after the fiasco in The Below! I had much to learn, and that was when I realized a more intimate knowledge of my mind window’s contents might contribute to my advancement.

Brunk flipped the meat, tilted his head, cast a critical eye on it, then nodded. Although I wouldn’t have described the rock troll as wordy, perhaps our friendly disposition would serve. The offered XP for the Products of Our Memories quest seemed significant, but my curiosity would have sent me down the path to better understanding of how he’d come to the cave, anyway. When I focused my thoughts on XP, my Character tab popped open.

Contessa of Millbury

Level 8

XP: 969/6000

“Gah!” I uttered. “What kind of goddess—”

Brunk’s head whipped around.

Warmth filled my face. “Sorry. I’m just learning about my mind window.”

He cocked one of those bushy eyebrows again.

“My interface.” I raised my index fingers then drew a square in front of my face. When the other eyebrow raised to knit together with the first, it dawned on me that rock trolls might not even have interfaces. But then his over-sized lips spread into a wide smile.

He nodded with sheer excitement. “Boonta.” Since he was holding the meat in one hand, he drew a square with the thick index finger of the other. “Boonta. Window.”

“Window? Hmm. I guess that’s as good a word for it as any.” I nodded, then drew the square again. “Window. I’m learning about it. It changed when my father died.”

The rock troll’s lips quivered, then the smile vanished. “Father. Dead?” The corner of his mouth turned down and his lower lip swelled.

I nodded. “Time has slipped from my grasp. Three days ago? It think that’s right. He was killed by demons.”

Brunk shot up from the fire. “Demons.” His head whipped back and forth. “Brunk hurt demons.”

“You did?”

He nodded with such fury, his wide-split chin nearly touched his collarbone. He thrust a finger toward the cave mouth. “Demons come. Two days. Brunk fight.”

“They were here? You drove them away?”

The rock troll shook his head. “Brunk crush.” He handed me the stick with the dangling meat, then spread his arms apart. He drew them out wide then smacked his hands together. “Crush! Smash demons!”

Although I jerked a bit at the loud claps, I nodded. “I like you more with each word. Those bastards found me here. Tried to make me kill one of the mast”—Brunk’s use of the word master in association with the rakes across his shoulder stopped me in my tracks, and I switched words midstream—“teachers at the academy.”

“Attack you?”

I considered the question, then nodded. “Yes. I suppose you could call it an attack. They Charmed me. Tried to force me to attack her.” Brunk nodded, but in shorter tilts of his head that left me wondering how much he understood. The way so much of his limited speech was accompanied by associated hand gestures, they seemed crucial to how he communicated.

Maybe I could learn to understand him better while serving the quest goals. “Brunk, when I came here the first time,” I said as I reached for the tome I’d set aside with my free hand and tapped it, “and hid these things, I didn’t see any ashes.” He followed my gaze to the flames licking around and over the top of the logs where they joined on either side. “Did you come here just recently?”

Brunk’s forehead wrinkled up, then he raised three fingers. “Three moons?”

“Moons? You mean you found the cave three nights ago?”

He scratched his chin, then pounded the side of his fist against his chest twice. “Two or three moons.” He nodded.

Pounding the chest twice means yes. Good.

My thoughts became text as I noted the gesture in my interface’s supplemental log.

“Did you live around here?”

This time his quick response told me he understood more than I expected. He raised his fist then twisted it side to side. I likened it to shaking one’s head. “Brunk came far.” He raised both fists to his chest, then unfolded the fingers of both in sequence, made the fists again, then raised the fingers in the same way. He repeated the gesture several times. “Many moons to come.”

“So, you came a long way.”

Your Interrogation skill has reached rank 2.

Your Deduction sub-skill has reached rank 2.

Although I didn’t feel like I was interrogating anyone and took some measure of offense at the implication, Brunk stole my focus when he repeated my words. “Brunk came long way.” His gaze rose over my head, then his eyes flicked twice left and right. “From west.”

“West!” We were making progress. I brought up my map, which pivoted when I turned my head. I pointed through the rock wall behind us. “West?”

He nodded, then pounded his chest twice.

“Where was your home?”

Brunk pointed at the floor of the cave where his feet were planted. “Home. Brunk home.”

I shook my head, then recalled his gesture moments earlier. I raised my fist then twisted it side to side. “Before. Where was home?”

He set his hands on his hips then paced around the fire with his head hung. “Not home. No home.”

“You’ve never had a home? Do you move around a lot?”

He stopped pacing to face me. His fist pounded his chest twice. “Brunk run.” He hung his head again, but not before a tinge of yellow filled his cheeks. Was that the color of his blood? Was the huge rock troll blushing?

I recounted his words, then understood. “You ran from someone? Does it make you feel…” I didn’t know what word would work. Embarrassed? Ashamed? “Sad?”

Brunk’s head remained low. He pounded his chest again, but much more softly this time.

Your Interrogation skill has reached rank 3.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it.” Quest or no quest, this gentle creature had suffered something tragic. I was in the midst of my own mourning and pushing him to talk would’ve left me feeling self-serving if I pursued it. After all, we were on a friendly footing. My interface said so. I hoped to keep it that way.

“Quarry.” He reached down, plucked up a loose rock, then raised it between his thumb and forefinger. He cocked a bushy eyebrow.

“Oh. Did you work in a quarry?”

He tapped his hand to his chest twice even though it still grasped the rock. “Born in quarry. Slave in quarry.”

My chin dipped, my hands dropped toward my lap, and the meat smacked against my robe. I hoisted it away when I realized the mistake, but considering the damage it’d already incurred, I sighed, then set it there again. “You were a slave?”

Brunk grunted. “Mmm.”

“All your life?”

“Mmm.” He double-tapped the chest, then dropped the rock.

Your Interrogation skill has reached rank 4.

I recalled the yellowing blush of his cheeks, then understood. He was ashamed he’d run from the quarry. Why? An image of Baba’s scruffy face popped into my mind, and with it came understanding.

“Do you feel sad because you left your family behind?”

Brunk’s gave an enthusiastic nod.

Your Deduction sub-skill has reached rank 3.

I suspected he was celebrating my understanding. I silently celebrated with him, but didn’t dare smile while we discussed his loss.

Quest Update:

Products of Our Memories

Objective Complete:

Objective 1: Learn where Brunk came from

One objective remains:

Objective 2: Find out how he reached the cave

Your Investigation skill has reached rank 2.

You receive +1 to all Investigation sub-skills.

Although it might have otherwise felt self-serving to jump right to the second objective, I’d walked into the cave that day without even knowing runes could be drawn in the ground like that. Did it take a high skill level to pull off? What was the effect’s duration? I’d just decided to ask when a window popped up in my interface.

[Party:][Dracin Welling:] You must return to the academy.

[Party:][Contessa of Millbury:] What? Why?

[Party:][Dracin Welling:] Something has happened, Tess, and they’ve noticed you’re missing. You must return before Magister Leira assembles a scouting party to find you. They’re assuming you fled.

[Party:][Contessa of Millbury:] What happened?

[Party:][Dracin Welling:] Johin is dead.

A lump formed in my throat as I shot up from my seat.

Brunk tensed. “Tess white.”

“What?”

He curled the fingers of one hand then waved if from his forehead to his chin. “White.”

“With good reason. I must go.”

Brunk pointed at the food in my lap. “Eat?”

I shook my head then handed him the skewered wolf steak. “No.

He took the food then nodded understanding, although his wrinkled forehead communicated anything but. “Come back soon?”

I pressed my lips together, then turned toward the wide stone seat where the tome lay. “I hope so.”

Too many thoughts filled my head at once. I’d come here with a purpose, been granted a quest that would’ve furthered that purpose, and now events had turned on their heads once again. I wondered how much trouble it would be to rebuild my farm. Just flee. To level my carpentry skill in such a productive way made sense.

But I knew my thoughts weren’t serious. I’d be hunted. The speed with which suspicion fell onto me could mean nothing less. That the magister was forming a party to find me solidified it.

Even though every minute counted, I reached for the tome, plopped down on the stone, then skimmed the section on runes. Every muscle tense, I started flipping through the pages. I glanced up to find Brunk’s eyes lingering on me. “Do me a favor?”

He nodded without delay.

“Stand watch at the mouth of the cave. If you see anyone coming, warn me.”

He pounded his chest twice then turned.

“Oh, and there’s a creature outside on the rock. It is my friend. Please don’t be afraid.”

He turned. “Afraid? Friend mean?”

I shook my head then forced a smile, hoping to set his mind at ease. “Only in combat. You’re an ally. Should be okay.”

He nodded, then turned. When he’d rounded the corner. I hesitated a few moments longer, listening for any signs of conflict between my two companions. A grunt echoed to me from the opening, and I recognized it as Brunk’s standard greeting. Mantalayana squeaky voice came next and, although I couldn’t make out her words, the tone seemed friendly enough.

I returned my focus to the tome, muttering to myself. “If they’re going to accuse me, anyway, this might be my last chance for a while.” The shining, stony black face of Wizen the Cruel flashed in my mind.

His voice came on cue.

I could assist you with this problem, Contessa. Summon me. I am nearby.

Drawing on Shabana’s vernacular, I answered out loud. “Bite me.”

Then I turned the page.

38

The next runic symbol was the most complex I’d seen yet. Three arches like triangles with no bottom lines, each sharing one wall to form four angled legs. Their tips merged into the shape of a six-pointed star.

You have learned a new rune:

Fei

An ice powered base-rune used to lend magic weapons and shields frost damage.

Unlike more basic runes, Fei allows casters to draw its shape in the air to form ice shields.

You have discovered a new spell:

Fei Shield

Level 8

Use both hands to draw the symbol Fei in the air before you to form an ice shield that absorbs damage equal to 35% of your total health. Applies to magic and physical damage.

Type: Spell

Cost: 45 Mana

Cooldown: 30 seconds

Requires Shadow Magic Rank 10

Current Shadow Magic Rank: 14

Your Runecrafting skill has reached rank 14

I popped open my supplemental log then copied the image and its description there. Unlike when I tried to save the whole tome, this effort worked, which told me if I manually copied the pages to my notes, I could record the full contents. If only I’d known that sooner!

[Party][Dracin Welling:] Why do you linger? They gather at the main entrance.

I twisted and started sifting through the leather scroll cylinders, but when I reached to grasp one, a bright symbol flashed in the aged animal skin, then faded until it was almost invisible.

You have learned a new skill:

Detect Runes

Often hidden in items and doors, the ability to recognize runes can aide you in learning them—and using their opposite elements to reverse their effects.

Type: Skill

Requirements:

Runecrafting rank 14.

Shadow or Light Magic affinity: 80%

Chance of success using Detect Runes is dependent upon Runecrafting rank and the rank required to read the rune.

Your Runecrafting skill has reached rank 15.

The information blurred. I focused on the rune burned into the leather a second time. Maybe burned was the wrong word, but my mind didn’t have time for semantic debates.

Fei

It was pure luck I’d just learned that rune. After popping off the lid, I shook out the scroll, hoping my suspicions would be justified when I unrolled it. If the symbol on the outside of the tube reflected the Währsager’s organization system, then the scroll inside should be readable by anyone who knew the Fei rune.

I was proven correct. None of the actual symbols scrawled on the parchment were Fei, but when I read them, they reorganized themselves into readable text demanding my attention.

Congratulations!

You have read:

Scroll of Wisdom

You have gained two points of Wisdom.

+4 mana recovery per tick while in combat

+8 Mana recovery per tick while out of combat

Your Runecrafting skill has reached rank 16.

The scroll disintegrated in golden motes that drifted toward the ground but evaporated long before they reached it. I shoved the empty cylinder out of the way then scrounged for another. A scroll glowed with the rune Ra, which I recalled was a fire-based rune. I slipped it open, then my chat window popped up again.

[Party][Dracin Welling:] Perhaps this is why you linger! Tess! Whatever you’ve done to gain these attributes, you will never be able to stand against the power of the Magister and the Templars. Even less the elves! You must return!

[Party:][Contessa of Millbury:] I’m almost done.

[Party][Dracin Welling:] No, child. You are finished now. Return this instant. I have hidden from them, but when they track me down, they will insist I show them where you are on my map! Do you understand?

The weight of the responsibility he’d taken on my behalf punched me in the brain. I cursed silently to myself then told Dracin I was on my way. I rolled the scroll containers over in my hand, and only one other revealed a glowing runic symbol. When I’d stuffed that one securely in my belt, I rushed toward the cave mouth, reading the Ra-based scroll as I went.

You have gained 2 points of Strength.

For all the good strength would do me. I guessed it was better than nothing. I tossed the scroll away and it poofed into golden motes. I found Brunk sitting next to Mantalayana with his hands gripping his knees. They both stared south, toward Warrington’s walls.

“All clear?” I asked upon approach.

Brunk grunted then tapped his chest twice with his fist in a more casual way than earlier.

“Okay, I have to go.” Without thinking, I set my hand onto one of Brunk’s. “Thank you, my friend. I will try to get back to see you soon.”

He gripped the hand before I could pull away. “Trouble, Tess? Brunk help?”

I shook my head. All I needed was to add his imprisonment or death to my list of pains. “Not this time.” I set off and Mantalayana swooped into the air. “Scout ahead. Tell me if you see anything, Manty.”

“Yes, master.”

“Oh, and if you see any snakes, fry them.”

We reached the secret door without event, and I stopped as soon as we stepped into the tunnel. “You have to go away now. I will see you soon.”

Mantalayana landed on my shoulder. She was so kind as to extinguish her flames before landing. “Focus on the summoning skill again, then I will vanish, master.” She hung her head, her angular nose pointed toward my collarbone. Empathy tugged at my chest, but I didn’t have options. The sight of her would cause instant suspicions and, judging from what Dracin Welling had said, there was already plenty of that.

The added strength from the scroll I’d read noticeably eased the effort of lifting the grate from below. At least it was something.

When I entered the back room of the temple, Roshan stood leaning against the wall, her arms folded across a shimmering white robe. “Something told me you would come from there, if you came. I pray to the goddess that you have explanations.”

I searched for a word I’d learned from Baba when a piece of sweet fruit disappeared from our daily stash before dinner. “You mean an alibi?”

Roshan nodded, then gestured toward the door. Heart pounding against my breastbone, I stepped through the door and my sandals clicked and clacked on the cobblestones outside. A tall figure stood with his arms hanging loosely by his side, one clutching his staff.

Elren.

“You bitch.” He raised the staff. “You killed him!”

He drew the staff back for a strike. I’d have to engage him to protect myself, or count on Roshan’s healing powers to undo any damage he did.

I sighed then dropped my hands. Then I leaned my chin toward the incoming strike then growled at Elren. “Do your best!”

A translucent shell pinged to life and surrounded me.

Roshan stepped forward and thrust out her hand. I expected to see it glow as she came to my defense, but she merely splayed her fingers then shouted. “Elren Xen, you will step away at once or be expelled!”

Motion from the right. White clad soldiers sprinted toward us.

The staff clanked off the shield then recoiled. His arms shuddered with the transferred energy, and his whitened knuckles showed no sign he’d comply. Then his gaze shifted to Roshan. His shoulders fell. The staff clattered to the cobblestones.

One of the elven guards clad in white leather arrived and gripped his arm. “Step away, young man.” Two towering men in white plate with short beards gripped my arms, then dragged me toward the front of the academy without words. Just before the side door to the dormitory passed out of sight, I spied the golden braids of an elven figure leaning against it. The young woman from my class.

Trayla Shen.

She threw the door open then slipped inside.

The Templars practically dragged me through the front entrance. Upon the gleaming floors inside stood Magister Leira, the instructor of Foundations of Magic—Mizwel Durring, Joren Renard, and Yin. All but Master Durring sent glares in my direction, and Yin topped the lot with a sneer. But it was Magister Leira who raised a glowing hand and Silenced me.

“Take her to the old magister’s office. We will interrogate her there.”

“Interrogate me?”

Leira stepped close then thrust a finger into my chest. “I rue the day you stepped on this campus, Contessa of Millbury. I had my doubts when you first sat across from me and hid your Shadow affinity, like the ignorant rube farm girl you are. But I sensed your potential, and I hoped you would prove a boon to our first class in the new academy. Now, I see I was mistaken.”

An internal debate erupted. I longed to respond, to grind my teeth and growl at this woman who’d been nothing but flagrant in her disapproval for me of late. But Dracin Welling put his own reputation at risk when he bound me, and I was innocent. I wouldn’t give her further reason to suspect me. Instead, I raised the hand of one restrained arm and gestured toward the hallway she’d indicated. “Then let’s get on with it. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

Leira’s lips twitched. Then she stepped back. “Take her.”

39

Sturdy shelves of dust-covered wood stood barren in the sprawling space. Lines of warm light traced the outside of heavy maroon curtains reaching all the way to the wooden floor. A matching rug with intricate gold spread in the center of the cell. The only furnishings were three high-backed chairs with cushy seats facing one less-inviting wooden one. I was dragged and dropped into the latter. Magister Leira, Master Durring, and Master Renard settled into the seats in front of me.

Dracin Welling entered last. He leaned against one the shelves and folded his arms across his chest. A sheen of sweat covered his head.

Magister Leira shot Dracin a suspicious glance. I wondered if he’d been invited to the proceedings. After a short pause, she waved the guards out of the room. “We can handle this one.” She shot my bound companion a look. “Can’t we, Master Welling?”

Steady as a statue, he gave no indication he’d heard her. Still, the magister cocked her head to the door, dismissing the guards.

One Templar gave me a second glance before giving Leira a half-nod. He followed his partner into the hallway and slammed the heavy door behind him.

The interim leader of the academy crossed her legs first, then set one hand atop the other on her knee. “Where were you an hour ago?”

Let the interrogation begin.

I could have lied. Said I was with Looli, and my employer might have covered for me. But I couldn’t be certain, and I wouldn’t put her in that position. Shabana, either. Especially since I didn’t know where she’d been an hour past. But I wasn’t about to point my finger in Brunk’s direction.

“I was elsewhere. Not on the academy grounds.”

“Not a very satisfying answer,” Master Durring said. Although his tone wasn’t unfriendly, it wasn’t pleasant either. I recalled he’d used the same tone with Johin when he’d stepped out of line in Fundamentals of Magic the first day.

Was he really dead?

I didn’t respond. Magister Leira’s mouth tensed. “This is not a game, Tess. One of our students is dead.”

“How is he dead?”

“We will ask the questions. Where were you an hour ago?”

Master Renard leaned forward and set his elbows upon his knees. “Do not lie, Tess. I have an ability that will allow me to know if you’re being untruthful. It has a very high success rate.”

“The girl needs no coaching from you.” The magister snapped her fingers. “Answer.”

Dracin Welling gave the slightest nod when I glanced his way. “Outside the town trying to increase my skills.”

[Party][Dracin Welling:] Party Chat:

[Dracin Welling][Party:] Good. Share your combat log.

I tried my best to give no indication I read his message in my interface, but Leira was no fool to be trifled with. She twisted her upper body to address Dracin. “Can you account for this?”

He bowed his head. “I can. I’m sure Tess would happily share her combat log with you. She fought a snake and a wolf simultaneously.

But if I show them that, they will see how I’ve grown. Would this not play against me?

[Party][Dracin Welling:] Swaths of burnt soil and grass in the training field speak to your power.

[Party][ Contessa of Millbury:] My power when Charmed and under the influence of a demonic buff!

His lack of a reply indicated he hadn’t changed his position. I sighed. “I would share my combat log if someone would tell me how.”

“Focus on the section of log from one hour ago, then swipe it in our direction. Our interfaces will offer us the option to view it.”

I selected the period from when the snake I’d almost stepped on lashed out to when both enemies fell.

Master Durring nodded. “I see you’ve learned to Summon elemental companions to your side. No small feat at level eight.”

Dracin spoke in a low tone. “If the goddess didn’t want her to have companions, she wouldn’t have made the level requirement so low. We’re talking about lesser Summons, not the kind who can melt a boy to his dorm room floor.”

My arms flinched. “Melt him?”

Master Durring pushed a lock of white hair over one shoulder though he never broke the squinting gaze set on me.

Leira uncrossed her legs. “You seem surprised, but how do I know your reaction is genuine?”

“I detect no lies,” Durring said.

“No skill is perfect.”

Durring broke his focus then threw the magister a look. “Indeed, magister. But you will recall my occupation prior to joining your academy. I assure you, I am qualified to see a lie from a girl of this level.”

Leira smiled, and it irritated me. “So she battled outside town. Is there more to your log?”

I considered the ranks I’d gained in my primary attributes then thought about the discovery of the Investigation skills. If they knew I’d ranked up without leveling, they’d easily infer I’d withheld materials from the Währsager’s study. In turn, Magister Leira would have another reason not to trust me. Just to pile on to that towering lot of cow patties, they’d also insist I tell them where the remaining scrolls were.

That would not do.

“There is nothing else.”

Master Durring pulled his elbows from his knees and thrust an accusing finger. “She lies.”

A curse word shot through my mind. Baba wouldn’t have been proud.

Magister Leira nodded as if she’d expected this. “About what, I wonder?” Her eyes flicked left to right. “Perhaps the missing time after her little altercation outside the wall? Plenty of time to return to the boy’s room, murder him, then flee.”

My jaw related my protest when I ground my back teeth. “I murdered no one.”

Magister Leira leaned forward in her chair. “Tell me Tess, do you know who Johin is?”

“You mean who he was?”

The magister shot back, her mouth dropping open and her jaw tightening into a perfect square.

[Party][Dracin Welling:] Not your finest answer. You must remain calm. She is not to be trifled with.

But my blood boiled, and its heat rushed to my face.

[Party][ Contessa of Millbury:] Nor am I going to be trifled with.

Master Durring interjected. “You speak loosely for one who is innocent. Tell me, did you know Johin?”

Leira answered in my stead. “He locked her in the Dark One’s study in what the students are calling The Below.” She flashed a knowing smile when my own jaw dropped. “Oh, you didn’t think we knew about that?”

My first thought was of Shabana, but then I recalled how Elren Xen had been waiting outside the chapel when I returned to town just minutes earlier, ready to strike. Knowing it had been him, a moment of guilt washed over me when I pictured how Shabana’s face might frown if she’d been able to know what’d just happened in my mind.

Durring raised his hands, palms up. “Why doesn’t she answer?”

I nodded. “Yes. I knew Johin. He harassed us from the moment we came to the academy, and he was a bastard all the while after.”

“Hmm,” the magister hummed. “A motive.”

I shot up from my chair. “Fuck you, Leira!”

The magister’s eyes bulged out of her head.

“You’ve admitted you’ve had it out for me from when I first entered your office, and I won’t sit here and be accused by a woman too cowardly to accept a job instead of acting as a placeholder. You should be ashamed!”

Dracin Welling threw up one hand, it glowed lilac and black.

You have been Silenced by Dracin Welling.

My ensuing glare burned into my bound companion.

No, your bound master.

Leira stepped forward, closing to within a foot. “At least Dracin has the sense to protect you from yourself before you make the kind of mistake that would force my hand.” Red light flashed from the magister’s eyes, then dissipated. “You do not want to toy with me further, child.” She formed claws with her hand, they flashed a bright light, then my backside slammed into the chair. She leaned over me.

Dracin pushed away from the shelves. “Tess, did you murder Johin?”

“No!” I bellowed.

Master Renard rose. “Stop, magister.”

Leira swung around, and although I couldn’t see her gaze from my angle, her posture left me with the impression it wasn’t friendly.

He showed her his open palm. “Forgive me, Leira. But about this, she isn’t lying.”

“What?” Leira turned her head toward me, then back at the elf.

“When he asked her, she answered immediately, and I saw no lie in her eyes, despite her anger. She did not kill that boy.”

Magister Leira shoved a finger toward his chair. “I will be the judge of that! Sit!”

Master Renard shook his head. “I represent Queen Simansia, here. It was agreed I do not report to you except as it applies to matters involving the curriculum, and I will not see you wrongly accuse an innocent. If you have qualms, take them up with the queen.”

“You are suspended from duty. Return to your precious queen.”

Dracin stepped closer to the duo. “Leira, be calm. The queen has been nothing but supportive… and generous in our efforts here.”

“But not as generous as the patron whose son was killed here this day!”

And there it was. The truth. The high chancellor was a key contributor to the academy, and his son was dead. It didn’t take a genius to decipher Leira’s motivations. In a way, I couldn’t blame her. Although I’d accused her of being a coward for not accepting the magistership outright, her fear that the high chancellor might withdraw funding for the school showed fierce dedication to the job.

“Fine.” She gestured toward the door. “But your services for this interrogation are no longer required.”

Master Renard yanked his robe as if clearing wrinkles. “The queen will hear of this insult, magister.” He stomped from the room before she could reply. I was impressed when he closed the door softly behind him because I’d have made every effort to tear it from its hinges.

Maybe I need to do something about my temper.

Magister Leira wheeled on me again. “Elren Xen received a message from the dying boy as he lay burning. Would you like to know what it said?”

She cocked her chin then a window popped open in my interface.

[Party][ Johin Tir:] Contessa of Millbury! You must—

I stared in disbelief. Why had he used his last words on me? What had he been trying to say?

Dracin stepped forward. “It proves nothing. I know where Tess was, and she wasn’t within a stone’s throw of the academy at the time of his death.”

Leira shook her head. “Then provide her whereabouts.”

With all eyes turned on my master, I sent him a pleading expression.

[Party][ Contessa of Millbury:] Please, no. You must trust me. I have a friend there. And I must advance if I’m to stand against Wizen the Cruel.

Dracin shook his head, and his reply came aloud. “I’m sorry, Tess. But you’re too important to me.” He cleared his throat. Tears welled in my eyes as I imagined the Templars and elves discovering Brunk and what they would do at the sight of him.

Then the door slammed open and a tall, broad-shouldered man in flowing purple robes with a thick golden chain hanging around his neck winked his eyes in succession. He pointed a long finger in my direction. “There. She’s the one. Take her into custody at once.”

Four towering guards entered the room. Dracin zipped forward in a blur I wouldn’t have imagined him capable of. He raised both hands. “Stop! What is the meaning of this, High Chancellor?”

“This is the girl who murdered my son. She will be tried in Trowlsby for her crime, where my son was a citizen. This is the law.”

To my surprise, it was Leira who answered. “With all due respect, High Chancellor, the crime was committed on academy grounds. My interrogator found no lie when she answered to your son’s killing. By law, she must stand before the academy’s council.”

“And where is this interrogator?” The chancellor looked around.

“He left.”

Chancellor Tir blew a short laugh. “Ha! A likely story.” Then his face melted into a stony expression. “If you desire the Council of Elders’ further patronage, you will stand aside, Magister. I don’t think your other contributors can keep your budget in the surplus.”

Leira lowered her head, and I sensed her feeling of defeat. The high chancellor turned on Dracin. “Move or we will have you removed.”

“It will be the final mistake of your life, Chancellor.”

Tir took a short step backward as his soldiers reached for their weapons. A woman with fiery red hair to her shoulders stepped into the room and reached for a twisted, ornately runed staff on her back.

The chancellor smiled. “If this comes to conflict, I assure you it will be your last day at this academy.”

Leira choked a low answer. “Dracin, you must submit.”

“The hell I will.” He turned, grabbed my shoulders, then a magic shield cast in a purple glow surrounded us. A new casting bar appeared over his head.

“Dracin, you mustn’t,” I said. “You will lose everything.”

“And if I don’t, I will lose the only thing that matters.”

Light drained out of the world as a loud hum filled my ears, causing them to vibrate, then we stood in daylight. The exercise field stood fifty yards away. The temple on the opposite side could be reached in forty long paces. I glanced up at the dormitory entrance and realized this was the exact spot where he’d materialized from a portal when I attacked the demons. He must have been bound here.

“Come, we must hurry.”

He grabbed my arm, but I resisted his pull. “But why would you do this? Why risk everything?”

“Must I repeat myself? Because you are everything, Tess. You must trust me! Now come!”

A sudden wave of exhaustion overcame me. The idea this man would give up everything to aid me made little sense. Perhaps he was the kindest person in Warrington, but if I’d learned anything since joining the world outside my little farm, it was that people had their own motivations.

“No. Why are you helping me? It can’t just be because of my potential.”

A clattering came to us on the wind from the academy’s main entrance when the towering figures who’d arrived with the high chancellor flooded into the open. One raised his sword and pointed our direction.

“Tess, you must come.”

“Tell me!”

He clutched my shoulders. “Stubborn child!” His eyes glistened with a clarity I hadn’t seen in them before. “You are my brother’s daughter, and I swore to protect you should he fall! Now come!”

40

“What? You’re my… uncle?”

He released a shallow sigh then grabbed my wrist. “Later. Come.” He yanked me forward so hard, I almost tumbled. I didn’t enjoy being handled by someone who’d hidden our familial bonds. It wasn’t that I doubted the claim. It was too outrageous to be anything but true, and goddess knew Baba had hidden everything else in this strange world from me, but the idea he’d strung me along, earned my trust. All but forced me to bind to him—and for what? To preserve a room in an academy where they’d no longer let me take classes?

I was starting to question his logic and tore free of his grip. “I can run on my own!”

Although I expected another reproach at my outburst, Dracin let my hand slip away then pushed ahead. The rear door of the temple banged open on squeaky hinges, and once we were inside, it closed behind us on its own. I turned, squealed a high pitch I hadn’t heard from myself since I was a wee bit, and would’ve fallen if not for Dracin grasping my arm once again to yank me upright.

Roshan stood with her back pressed to the door, her palms set flat against its face. “Did they see you enter?”

I shook my head, but Dracin—
my uncle

—contradicted the gesture with his words. “There’s no way to know. We must move quickly. Tess, can you take me to where you were earlier today? Can we hide there until Roshan can call for support?”

“Call whom?” I worked my jaw. “I can understand why Dracin would help, but why you?”

“Because I fear what would come of you if I didn’t, Tess.” She ran to the inner door to my right then flung it open. “Come.”

We slipped inside, but before Roshan could close the door behind us, the outer door burst open and the high chancellor’s men flooded into the room, the redheaded caster bringing up the rear.

One of the men hurried to the door and forced it open.

Dracin stepped forward. “I’m sorry priestess, but we won’t be stopped.” He shoved Roshan into the closest soldier, who took a single lumbering step back as he caught her. Dracin raised one hand; a casting bar appeared over his head and filled in less than a second. A halo the color of storm clouds bloomed around his fingers, then white-hot energy fired in bolts and slammed into Roshan’s chest. The priestess and soldier came off the ground then flew across the room. Dracin reached for the door, but the fiery-haired woman threw out both hands and a ribbon of white shot out and impacted my torso. The wind left me and my muscles convulsed as I slammed onto my back.

“Surrender or be felled!” One of the soldiers called, raising his sword to Dracin’s throat. My master stared down at the blade, then craned his neck to peer down at me as I shook violently.

He lowered his hands. “We surrender.”

The soldier grabbed his biceps, dragged him forward, then withdrew little metallic bindings from his belt. He snapped them around Dracin’s wrists. They glowed green.

The woman who’d disabled me approached. She tilted her head as if studying an unknown specimen of tadpole. “Hello, Tess. I will be your guardian. My name is Chaunessey. If you resist, you will suffer greatly. Do you understand?” I still shook too violently for her to discern when I nodded my head, but she seemed to find the answer in my eyes. “Good. We will get on just fine, then.” She turned. “Take him outside. I’ll bring her when she recovers.”

The men obeyed, and only Roshan lingered behind. They didn’t bother helping her up, but she eventually pressed her back to the wall and rose. One hand bloomed white, then a spark of light illuminated the middle of her chest then spread in all directions. Her skin returned from a whitish pallor to the coppery tone I was used to.

Chaunessey reached down. I stared at her hand for a few heartbeats before I grasped it. She swept me up, dusted off the back of my robe, then patted my back. “Very good. Now let’s go see the high chancellor. He wasn’t finished talking to you.”

The woman threw a short glance at Roshan on her way.

The priestess bowed her chin. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Chaunessey didn’t respond.

At least Dracin’s ruse bought the priestess her freedom. If they’d known she was helping us… well, I didn’t want to imagine how I could have ruined her life. But now I’d ruined my uncle’s, and only moments after having found out we were related.

Harboring me would have been one thing, but aiding in my escape? The high chancellor’s harsh demeanor left me with no doubt the punishment doled out to Roshan would have been harsh. And would be most severe to me.

Then again, I knew nothing of the man before that day, and even less about the city from which he’d come or its ideas surrounding justice. But I needed only to know that if someone had murdered me, my father would’ve scoured the hillsides until he could mete out the simple man’s justice.

I expected no better fate for myself, but perhaps Dracin would escape the same end. Maybe if I cooperated. When Chaunessey dragged me past the front entrance, I perked up. “Where are we going?”

“To Trowlsby. Shut your mouth or I’ll render you speechless.”

I obeyed. Dracin paced ahead, still in the clutches of the bearded soldier. I thought about sending him a party message, but decided if he’d wanted to talk, he would have. Sometimes it suited to remain silent.

We reached the structure containing the portal stands and the magic paper that heated the room against its cold stone walls. The high chancellor was already inside, waiting with an air of confidence that his will would be done.

I disliked him very much.

A portal popped open atop one of the stands and, although I expected to see a grand sight of a large city for the first time, I instead spied a dark area with a long, recognizable table on the other side. A familiar, fiery-haired woman dressed in silver plate revealing her midriff and matching plated shorts stepped through.

Desini.

Behind her stood an elven woman with tight golden braids flowing over her ears and down her back. Slung over her shoulder was a beautiful white bow with intricate carvings. She stepped to the side to reveal a shorter elven woman with equally golden hair. She wore a shimmering black robe of soft velvet. A crooked wand was stuffed in her belt and a shiny obsidian staff was strapped on her back. She walked forward and faced the chancellor. The warmth coming off her rolled over me in an invisible blanket.

“I am High Chancellor Tir of Trowlsby. What is this meaning of this?”

The elven woman’s expression remained stony as she looked the chancellor up and down. Her gaze drifted to the caster who gripped my arm. “My name is Lady Priya Skyy, daughter of the Matron of the Dark Wood, Zhara.”

Who? And who?

The high chancellor swallowed audibly. “Zhara? The Matron? You are…”

“I am she, and I invoke the law. You will release Contessa of Millbury and Dracin Welling into the custody of Magister Leira or face penalty.”

The woman clutching my arm released it then lifted one hand.

Priya Skyy twisted her lips into a sneer, but I saw humor in her eyes and the way her forehead wrinkled. “I will drop you like a bad habit, bitch.”

Despite the strange way she combined the word, I took her meaning.

Chaunessey seemed to, as well. Her hand dropped to her side.

One of the bearded soldiers reached for the hilt of the sword at his belt, then the first elven woman drew her bow in a blur of motion. An arrow nocked to its string even though I’d missed its drawing from her quiver. “And I am Emilia Horne, assigned to the protection of Zhara’s daughter by Queen Simansia of the northern elves. Unsheathe that sword and I will dig your grave with it.” A glow of white light stretched from fletching to the golden tip.

All attention shifted to the mishon woman who’d stepped through first. She shrugged. “I’m Desini.”

I grinned. The mishon winked.

“Where did you come from?” The chancellor demanded. “How did you know we were here?”

Chaunessey answered. “A ruse. The priestess is one of theirs. I fought alongside her on the wall against the demon hordes in Trowlsby.”

High Chancellor Tir smirked. “Seems the two of you are on different sides, now.”

Chaunessey nodded, but her gaze returned to Priya.

The door to the reception area flung open, then Magister Leira stepped inside. She scanned the faces of the occupants, then focused on the elven beauty, Priya Skyy. She bowed. “Blessed one. Welcome back to Warrington.”

Priya returned the bow, but her gaze never left Chaunessey. “Thank you, Leira. It’s been too long. You may take custody of your student.”

Leira tapped my shoulder and waved me outside. “I’m sorry for all this, High Chancellor Tir, but the law is the law. If we find Contessa of Millbury is in any way responsible for the death of your son, I will see to it you are informed.”

The high chancellor’s upper lip twitched and his nostrils flared. “You will regret this.”

“You’re probably right.” Leira lifted her hand and snapped her fingers. Master Renard appeared from nowhere, tapped my shoulder, then waved me back toward the academy.

This was getting tiresome.

* * *

The magic bubble surrounding me as I sat in the cell left my spirit drained. My shoulders folded under their own weight, and my eyelids drooped. I didn’t know if that was part of its effect or if I was just exhausted. Probably a little of both. Instead of hugging the air around me like Roshan’s protective shield, this magic’s perimeter touched the stone brick walls. After two hours of silence, I wondered how the magic persisted with no one around to cast it.

With considerable effort, I dragged myself from the wooden bench and paced in a circle. It was then I spied a dim marking camouflaged against the gray stone of the floor. When I focused, it glowed then faded.

A rune.

I nudged my toe along the edge and stared down at it, trying hard to focus so I might better understand how it worked.

Reading this rune requires:

Language:

Elven

Runecrafting Rank: 20

Your Runecrafting rank is too low to read this rune.

I smirked at the words, then paced to the other side of the rusted bars. The same symbol glowed in that corner. I found two more just like it along the walls on either side of the hard bench.

Well, even if I can’t read them, I’ve learned something new.

That runes could be used to drain one’s energy surprised me, but it probably shouldn’t have. I was but a newborn fawn trying to gain her balance in a world filled with magics I didn’t comprehend, and with each passing day, I learned new and exciting applications. If only the beings surrounding me would cooperate so I’d learn faster.

Frustration consumed me. Irritation welled up. I kicked the bench. For my reward, I received a throbbing big toe and lost five hit points. They recovered quickly enough, so whatever the magic draining my life force was, it didn’t seem to affect my recovery rate. That I paid attention to that little detail reflected either boredom or a voracious hunger to know everything I could about magic.

I suspected the latter, but it was hard to say in the context where I wanted to just drop onto that hard bench and sleep for a day.

Door hinges squeaked in the corridor. I dragged myself over to the door to peek out. I might have expected Magister Leira, Master Renard, or Roshan, but the figure I spied was a walking rail whose robe hung limp over narrow shoulders. His face was shadowed by a wide hood, and he reached up to remove it when he rushed toward the cell. But I knew who it was before he revealed himself.

“Harbon? What in the goddess’s realm are you doing here?”

The hood slipped away, then the young caster reached into his pocket. He grinned and held up his hand to show me what he clutched.

A key.

He slid it into the cell door before his intent dawned on me.

“What are you doing?”

He twisted the key, then a metal clang reported the lock had relented. He swung the door open. “I’m getting you out of here before they can execute you.”

“Kill me?”

His hand waved impatiently. “No time. Let’s go.”

My energy swelled the second my foot hit the stone floor outside the cell. When I glanced back at the shell from the outside, a sense of awe washed over me at the runic power, but I found myself unable to linger in it for long as Harbon shoved me toward the door through which he’d entered.

My hand shot to my mouth when we reached the hallway. I spied two bearded Templars adorned in their white plate.

Harbon shoved me forward again before I could analyze them. He spoke in a harsh whisper. “Move. You’ll get us caught!”

“How did you do that? Are they…”

“Dead? Of course not. Alchemy is my elective. The instructor is loose about supervising lab hours and leaves his recipe tomes laying around. It’s a low-level sleep spell.”

“Then why didn’t they resist it?”

“Low magic defense. C’mon.”

I whipped my head around for a final look at the Templars, but for the third time, he pushed me forward.

“Stop shoving me, I’m going.”

“Sorry. But if we’re caught, they’ll execute us both.” He hustled ahead, raised a hand to still me, then peeked around a corner. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Why am I following him? Where are we going? And why is he risking himself for me?

“What do you mean, they’ll kill us? The magister came to whisk me away from the high chancellor. She might not be the nicest of people, but I don’t think she wanted me dead. And how did you get a key?”

“You should know. It was your key.” He raised it, but didn’t stop jogging. “Analyze.”

I did.

Skeleton Key: Warrington Academy

This key will open any door at Warrington Academy whose locks haven’t been changed since its creation.

Harbon explained. “When you gave it to me, I’d planned to return it to Johin, but when I arrived at his dormitory hallway, guards clustered outside his room and ordered me to stand away.”

I cursed in my head. How had I not analyzed the damned key? I was such an idiot.

“Why are you risking this?”

“Because I was the one person who knew you were innocent. I’d followed to ensure you made it to the temple without problems.”

“How’d you follow me without my knowing?”

“Call me slippery. I was on the second-floor landing, watching out the window.”

I was about to inquire further when it hit me that he was actually very sweet. He’d known I wouldn’t want him to risk coming with me, so he’d made excuses then followed anyway. But another question still lingered. “Do you really think I’ll be executed?”

“Not if you get out of here.” He peeked around another corner, then waved me forward. “One more stop.”

“Are we going for Dracin Welling?”

He shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t know where he is.” I was about to open my party chat and reach out when he interrupted the thought. “It’s better he not be caught with you, anyway.”

“But he helped me escape the magister’s office when the high chancellor appeared. We must help him!”

“He’s a Shadow Master. Besides, he’s a third- or fourth-generation member of the most nefarious magic organization known to Rubal. Something tells me he’ll find a way out.”

“The Shadow Council?”

“One and the same. Now lower your voice.”

He stopped at an iron door with bars set in a square. He peeked inside, then slid the key into the lock. After it clicked, he shoved it open. Weapons sat in racks along the back wall, but we had to sweep around a wide table to get to them. I spied my staff in the corner. He grabbed it and tossed it to me. “Wouldn’t do to be in the wilds without your weapon.”

We hurried out of the room. “If you know I’m innocent, why do you think they’d execute me?”

“You don’t let up. Think about it, Tess.” We reached the bottom of a set of wide stairs then peered up at double wooden doors with iron hinges high above. “They’re not going to take my word for the fact you were gone. The high chancellor is a powerful man.”

“Yes, but I get the distinct sense that so are the people who stopped him from taking me.”

“Ever the farm girl.” He took the first step. “But a farm girl they witnessed causing utter destruction in the exercise field. Or have you forgotten that little display?”

“I wasn’t in control!”

“Exactly! That makes you ever more dangerous. You have demons Empowering you, following you. I don’t know what you did to attract their ire, but—”

We reached the halfway point of our incline, and I stopped. “It’s not ire. Wizen the Cruel wants me to join his ranks.”

“Oh, they’ll like that even more.” He leaned toward me, and the same warmth I’d felt in my dorm room surged through my veins. “Are you stupid, or just a little dense?”

His sudden harshness caused me to flinch. I stepped back.

Harbon peered toward the floor then shook his head. “Sorry, it’s a tense situation. But I came for you, Tess. Could you just follow so I don’t end up in the cell next to you?”

That seemed more than fair. Besides, when he raised his sorrowful eyes, a wave of guilt caused my heart to sink. “Let’s go.”

Despite the cool air, the daylight warmed my face when we burst through the final door. We circled around the building housing Leira’s office then stopped in its shadows. Harbon leaned on the wall, his chest rising and falling. “Stamina’s low, give me a sec.”

I nodded.

He spoke through harsh breaths. “We’ll need to go to your hiding place until I can arrange to get you transport or something.”

“Or something?”

“I’m not exactly well-known around here.” He read my expression, then huffed so it was noticeable even with his uneven breathing. “Okay, maybe I didn’t plan it all out, but time seemed of the essence.”

I wasn’t about to complain when I had other concerns. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but I couldn’t take him to the cave. If they followed us, they could find Brunk. If that happened, all the turmoil would have been for nothing because I could have just shown them where I was when Johin was killed. If only I’d invited Brunk to a party so I could warn him away.

But hindsight wasn’t going to fix the past, only the future.

“I can’t take you to my hiding place.”

“What? Of course you can!”

A cold shiver ripped down my back when I peered into his wide, suddenly hateful eyes. Heat rose in my chest, then swarmed to my head. “Wait. You…”

His eyelids reappeared and lowered to half-mast. “Shit. Took you that long, did it?” He scanned the surrounding campus, then pushed away from the wall. “So be it.” When he raised one hand, it flashed with deep purple light.

You have been Silenced.

Then he waved two hands in strange patterns as I faltered backward. A thick thread of black energy washed over his hair, revealing its true ebony coloring in a wave. One white streak ran down the left side. The long straight locks reached his shoulders. The ropey crackling wave passed over his face, revealing obsidian irises and a wide nose perched over fuller lips. His shoulders broadened as it passed, then his robe billowed in an ethereal wind as it expanded. A new wave of heat passed over my body as I winked my eyes in succession.

Shertan Djan

Human

Level 19 Shadow Mage

Melee Power Rating: 13

Melee Defense Rating: 11

Ranged Power Rating: 9

Ranged Defense Rating: 8

Magic Power Rating: 38

Magic Resistance Rating: 21

I eyed the first name.

Shertan. Where had I seen that name?

A stone formed in my throat so I had to force air into my lungs. Images flooded through my mind so fast, they dizzied me. The tome with the Währsager’s notes to his acolyte…

Acolyte Shertan,

In the coming pages you will find notes on Mana Weaving…

More images. Dracin Welling standing in a narrow alley in the shadows and the warmth passing over me when I detected him. The same warmth engulfing me on the exercise field when I met Harbon of Millbury. The same warmth I’d mistaken for a strange attraction in my dorm room.

“You’re… you’re the Währsager’s apprentice.” I took another step back.

He squinted at my feet. “Yes, that’s just perfect. Step into the sunlight so they can find you, idiot.” He grasped my robe, yanked me forward. I stood dumbly in his grip. He glanced around to ensure the motion hadn’t been detected. “Don’t worry, the guards don’t patrol this side. They’ve installed wards here and will be placing more around the campus. But I suppose those are the least of your concerns.”

He backhanded me, and a flash of pain surged through my cheek. “Where’s the tome?”

My head lolled under the dizzying impact. After it steadied, I narrowed my eyes. “What tome?”

A wide grin spread his mouth to reveal yellowing teeth beneath. “You have no other method of learning my identity, Tess. I’m no fool. Now, you will tell me where the tome is, or I’ll force it from your dying lips.”

I sneered at the threat.

[Party:][Contessa of Millbury] Dracin, Harbon of Millbury is not who he says. He’s the Währsager’s acolyte. We’re on the north side of the Administration Building.

[Party:][Dracin Welling] Tess, you must keep him there. I will try to convince the magister to help.

Shertan craned his neck forward. “No? Fine.” He raised his free hand and shoved me away with the other. A casting bar popped into existence above his head.

“Why?” I blurted.

The bar halted while half-filled. “Why, what, Tess? Why am I here? Why did I murder Johin Tir? I think it would be obvious enough.”

“I’m a simple farm girl, remember?”

He chuckled. “Fine. I’ll satiate your curiosity, but then you will tell me where the tome is.” He didn’t await agreement. “I detected Johin’s Shadow affinity the first time I saw him. It was slight, but his Magic Potential showed some promise. When I learned his identity—son of the great and High Chancellor Tir in Trowlsby—I knew he could serve my purpose.”

Roshan’s words echoed in my mind.

Tell her how she is not so slick as she thinks. Explain to her how a level thirty-eight Priestess of the Light can detect her Shadow aura at furthest sight of her. Astute? Hmph.

So, perhaps she’d sensed Shertan’s Shadow affinity, as well. “What possible purpose could Johin serve? He was but a floundering idiot.”

“There, we agree. But when these people killed my master, they took everything from me. I swore vengeance. I would destroy this new iteration of this cursed place, then grow my power to take vengeance on the bastards who killed him. Starting with that priestess bitch.”

“Roshan killed him?”

“She was part of it, yes. Johin wanted nothing more than to please his overbearing father. So, I tempted him into my service with the promise of power the Light School couldn’t teach. When he saw an opportunity to improve in both disciplines, he jumped at the chance. I let him use the key to study in The Below—a dramatic name imagined by fools, if you ask me—but then he showed his true colors after classes started. He had to show off. Make himself appear special. And if it wasn’t bad enough, he revealed the place to you all then locked you inside. Idiot!”

The sudden outburst sent me back a step as the warmth radiating off him renewed. I wondered how powerful his shadow affinity must have been. Not as strong as Master Welling’s, as I had to be close to sense it. “So, it was you Johin spoke of outside the dormitory the other night. The one who owned the key. The one who would come for me after he was punished.”

He waved a hand in a circular motion, dropped it to his waist, then bowed over it. “One and the same.”

Thoughts whipped around in my mind. “So, you killed him for his insolence?”

“Try harder, girl.”

I scowled. Then a lamp light flicked on in my brain. “You killed him because you knew it would bring the high chancellor down on the academy. The funding would be threatened. You murdered an innocent boy because of your thirst for revenge.” I followed the thread to its end. “And you helped me escape campus so I’d have no alibi.”

Your Deduction skill has reached rank 4.

“Much better. Perhaps there’s hope for you, yet.”

Your interrogation skill has reached rank 6.

He tipped his chin upward. “You know, you could join us.”

Who was part of this “us” he spoke of? “Join… you?”

He nodded. “Your Shadow affinity is undeniable. My master instilled in me disciplines you could greatly benefit from. For instance, the ability to shroud my appearance. They’d never find you.”

“When I tell them you are the murderer, I’ll have no reason to run.”

“Do you really think it’s that simple? The high chancellor will chase you to the ends of Enora. His ego would never permit for him to allow people to think he was mistaken. He will claim you were in cahoots with me. And I might just let you live to prove it.”

A rumbling caused my feet to tremble. I threw out my arms for balance before realizing the sensation was inside me.

But Shertan’s eyes shot to his feet then up to my face again. His gaze diverted over my shoulder as he pressed himself against the wall. I wheeled around.

A shining black figure rose from a shimmering horizontal halo inches above the grass. Jagged glassy spikes merged to a point atop his crown, and a fiery obsidian sword flamed in his hand.

Wizen the Cruel reached out with a clawed hand, turned it, then rolled his fingers toward his palm to make a fist.

Shertan’s feet jerked off the ground, then he convulsed in the air.

“Your thirst for revenge clouds your judgment, Shertan Djan.” The embers that were his eyes glowed brighter. “Was my command unclear? The girl was not to be touched.”

“But I’m the one who told you where she was! You promised me revenge, and you’ve done nothing to aid in my plans!”

So that’s how Wizen tracked me!

“I turned the girl against the priestess who aided in the murder of your master, and you accuse?” Wizen the Cruel twisted his fist, then punched the air.

Shertan flew backward then slammed into the wall. His body thumped limply to the ground.

The demon turned his head, and although I only had burning orange embers to gauge by, it was obvious his gaze fell on me. “Contessa. Alone at last.”

41

The portal from which he’d risen dissipated in a splash of black motes. Wizen the Cruel’s high black boots lowered to the grass. When he stepped toward me, I turned to the side. The embers in his helmet dimmed to reveal black irises with little sclera to surround them.

All the muscles in my body tensed as my detection of his Shadow power engulfed my entire body at once. That he passed me then walked over to stare down at Harbon—Shertan, I corrected myself—didn’t provide any comfort.

His voice came in a low grumble with a strange timbre that gave the impression two beings spoke. “A foolhardy boy.” He shoved his boot against Shertan’s ribs. “I find his thirst for revenge tiresome.”

I stepped backward.

Wizen lifted a gloved hand. “Stay. If I wanted to harm you, you’d be dead.”

I froze, then peeled my gaze away to peer down at my betrayer. “Is he… dead?”

Wizen shook his head. Although he stood in the shadow of a balcony above, his helmet shimmered with the motion as if the sun reflected off it. “He’s of little use to me dead. But it’s not a lesson he’ll soon forget. You humans, always so brazen. Brave to a fault.”

“And what are you?”

Those black eyes fell on me, and I shivered despite the warm sensation. “Why, Contessa, I’m your new master.” A low grumble I presumed was laughter welled up from his belly. “But if you must know, I am a taran.” He tugged off his helmet, Short horns sprouted from either side of his head, centered above his eyes. His bald scalp was maroon except for a black stripe splitting its center and running down the bridge of his nose to its tip.

Although my father regaled me with endless tales regarding the histories of Rubalian races, I’d never heard of tarans.

Wizen must have read some sign of confusion in my features. “There aren’t many of us. We fought a fifty-year war against the human tribesmen of the north long ago. Although they held superior numbers, our magic line was much stronger. But eventually, poor planning and the lackluster tactics of inadequate leadership cost us the war, and the brutes almost wiped us out.”

“How sad for you,” I lied.

“It was long before my time, Contessa of Millbury. Your pity is weakness, and it doesn’t serve you. Submit to me, allow me to bind you, and we will set aside such trivial encumbrances.”

Here stood the bastard I’d mistaken for a demon, who’d killed my father in my own sight, and now he wanted me to bind myself to him?

“I will bind to you when my last breath has left me and I rot in the underworld, murdering bastard.”

“That could be arranged. Again, your emotions betray you. Tell me, Contessa, how have the humans treated you so far? Has that bitch Leira welcomed you to her bosom? Promised to foster your powerful Magic Potential to its fullest?”

Again, I lied. “She’s done just fine by me.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard.” Wizen the Cruel kicked Shertan with the side of his boot.

Shertan grunted.

“Boy, dispense with the pretense you’re unconscious. Get to your feet.”

Shertan’s eyes fluttered open. He pressed his palms to the stone surface then pushed himself up. One hand cradled his ribs.

“Better. Now, renew your glamour and return to your business.”

Shertan could disguise himself if he liked, but I’d already informed my uncle about his treachery, and I took solace in knowing he would be apprehended.

“Yes, master.” The acolyte shot me a hateful glare that didn’t diminish as he transformed into Harbon. He limped along the building toward the south, peeked around the corner, then vanished.

My own hateful expression burned into his back until he was gone, then I turned it on Wizen. “How is it a mortal commands demons?”

“Precocious to the end.” He waved a dismissive hand, then shoved a finger toward the soil beneath my feet. “Submit to bonding, and I will teach you all you need to know.”

“By the goddess’s blessing, I’m already spoken for.”

“What?”

Wizen winked his eyes in succession. “Bound to Dracin Welling?” He curled his finger to complete a fist. “So be it.” He moved toward the edge of the stone, closer.

The heat in me swelled.

“He will not willingly let you go. You must convince him.”

“You murdered my father and destroyed my home. Why in this world would I go with you?”

His obsidian armor clattered with his slight shrug. “To realize your full potential.” He swept his hands around him. “To share in our love of The Source. Do you think these people, this place, will serve you, Contessa?”

I would have corrected him on the usage of my name, but I didn’t want to hear it on his foul lips. “My master will serve me. He is not only a powerful magician, but he shares my own blood. Never will I unbind from him in favor of a demonic killer.”

“As you said, I’m no demon.”

I winked my eyes in succession, but he swept a hand across my eyes and my interface appeared blank, revealing only his name and a message indicating I couldn’t read his attributes.

“You will know only what I want you to know and only when I want you to know it.” He turned to face west. “If Dracin Welling binds you, I will have to break the bond.”

“No!” I blurted. “You will not touch him.” Fire flowed through my veins from my feet, then up my legs. My hands glowed as I raised them, then I squinted in the evil one’s direction. “I would sooner die than—”

A wall of power slammed into me, raised me from the ground, then I flung me backward. I flew through the air until my backside slammed to the hard-packed soil. I rolled before thumping face down.

Wizen the Cruel casts Wind Fury.

You are stunned.

Effect: -30 Damage to all magic attacks.

A shadow fell over me, but I was too focused on recouping the wind that had blown from the impact.

“When I have tucked you safely away, I will return to deal with your master.”

A new voice filled the air. “Why not deal with me now, demon spawn?”

My head swung around as the breath returned to my lungs. Dracin Welling’s black robe fluttered in the breeze, and the sun set against his front-shadowed features. Magister Leira sped around the corner of the building. A twisted black wand whose tip sparked with purple energy was clutched in her trembling hand. Then the blonde elven women I’d encountered in the reception area appeared, with Desini Sherre bringing up the rear.

I shot a sadistic smile at the taran. He threw his hands skyward. A new horizontal portal appeared beneath him. “Another time.” His boots rose from the ground, then the portal slid under him.

Before he could disappear like he’d done after our fight in the exercise field, a burst of multi-fingered electrical energy zipped through the air then slammed into him. Wizen the Cruel whipped backward, threw out his arms, steadying in midair.

Priya Skyy charged forward. “You won’t escape us, taran. I know of your kind, and I will not rest until the last of you are cleansed from Enora.”

Although Wizen made no gestures, a circle of fire swirled around his feet then up the length of his body until he was surrounded. Priya fired again, but the fire absorbed the lightning so it never reached the evil caster.

The portal slid beneath him, then Wizen the Cruel slid slowly down until half his body disappeared. Dracin swept his hands from his chest to the right, then pushed a wave of red energy toward the demon. The fire dissipated. Wizen the Cruel’s helmet tumbled to the ground. His eyes ignited, then he zipped down and out of sight.

Another time, Contessa of Millbury. Soon.

I snarled. “Dammit!”

Motion from my left brought my head around as the high chancellor’s red-haired caster and her band of plate-clad soldiers appeared. She raised one hand. “There! Grab her!”

Desini Sherre whipped her sword from her back then charged forward to block my view of the newcomers. “Will we complete the exercise this time, Chaunessey?”

The mage hoisted one hand high over her shoulder then wiggled her fingers in a beckoning gesture. A flood of armed men, armored to their teeth, swept around the corner and into sight. My first guess was there must have been twenty. Bringing up the rear was a figure wearing a forest green robe. His bald head was topped only by a few twirling gray curls.

“Those men wear the king’s sigil,” Leira said.

“Yes, Trowlsby has pledged to sign a pact with his majesty this very day.”

Leira shook her head in derision. “Will the high chancellor stop at nothing to satiate his yearning for death?”

“You should have let us try the girl in our city. She killed one of our citizens.”

“No,” Leira said, casting her gaze in my direction. “She didn’t. The culprit was another student, and mistrusting Tess was my mistake. So, come if you must, but we will defend our own.”

“A welcome invitation,” Chaunessey replied. “I accept. Your academy dies today.”

Dracin Welling sped to my side and pulled me behind Desini. He swept his hands out, then a casting bar filled.

The soldiers charged.

Desini zipped forward in a blur. Her shoulder slammed into a man’s chest and sent him sprawling. She whipped a second sword from her belt as she twisted just in time to dodge an incoming blow from a studded mace.

Shards of ice fell from the sky, and the incoming forces slowed. Priya Skyy’s hands whipped overhead, and a casting bar slowly emptied instead of filling. A bolt of energy flew from Leira’s wand to one of the soldier’s faces. He convulsed and tumbled to his duff.

A lightshow ensued as Dracin completed his cast. “A new bind point.” A portal appeared. “Go now, Tess. If they would risk a local war, the chancellor doesn’t care about truth. Go far from here and don’t look back. I will find you.”

I squeezed Dracin’s hand. “Live, uncle.”

He nodded then shoved me through the portal.

* * *

The first time I’d been in the Währsager’s Study, it’d been warm—almost welcoming despite my being locked in. But now its dank air caused my nostrils to crinkle up and a chill to wash over me. It was especially noticeable where the wolf had torn a hole in my robe. A couple inches higher and I would have spent the day running around campus with my butt exposed for all to see.

Ah, the little blessings.

I hurried to the door, expecting it would be locked, but it swung open on its creaky hinges. After stepping into the hallway, I peered back over one shoulder, wondering when Dracin had found time to come here and bind himself to the place.

Time was of the essence, so I rushed up the tunnel, past the ladder leading up to the chapel. My sandal stuck in some muck in the narrow channel, so I ended up with a blackened foot. When I reached the door leading out, I checked for snakes before stepping into the high grass. Then I raised my hands, focused on a spell in my interface, and brought my fire summon back to life.

Mantalayana burst forth from her portal, flew fifty feet forward, then turned. “All clear, m’lady. To the cave?”

“It’s like you read my mind.”

“I did read your mind, in a way.”

“That’s comforting.”

The little fire minion shrugged one shoulder in what might’ve been an adorable gesture if not for the way my chest vibrated with fear that a plate-clad soldier or superior caster might pop up behind me at any moment. At least the lingering chill from the study had passed, and the goddess’s star blanketed my face in warmth against a cold breeze that bent the high blades.

You have been sent a Private Chat Request from Shertan.

Accept?

I did.

Private Chat:

[Shertan}{Private:] I should’ve known you’d be the ruin of me.

[Contessa of Millbury][Private:] Give me time, perhaps I will.

[Shertan][Private:] Perhaps you’ll have your opportunity to make good on this idle threat sooner than you think. I have your mishon friend. If you’d like to see her breathing, you will come south of Warrington and reach out for further instructions. Bring my tome.

[Contessa of Millbury][Private:] You lie!

When he didn’t respond, I brought up my chat tab and selected another party chat to which I’d been connected since Shabana and I reconciled.

[Contessa of Millbury][Private:] Shabana?

No reply.

Private Chat:

[Shertan}{Private:] If you’re trying to reach your friend, I’ve disabled her. Go south of town. There is a tree you’ll find quite interesting there. It stands alone in the center of a field of low grass. I’ll stay in range so you can use private chat.

[Contessa of Millbury][Private:] Why not just invite me to a party chat?

[Shertan}{Private:] You really are a rube. Party chat would show my location on your map. And before you get tricky, your party with Shabana will disband when she’s out of range. Bring the tome, and I’ll let you keep any scrolls you’ve hidden away.

[Contessa of Millbury][Private:] And how do I know you won’t kill me?

[Shertan][Private:] As attractive a prospect as that is, Wizen doesn’t want you dead. But test me, and before sunrise tomorrow, Shabana will be buried where she’ll never be found.

My map popped up with a thought, then I scanned for Shabana’s locator. When I zoomed out, I spied it south of town. I didn’t know the range limitations, but I would have to move fast to keep her where I could see her.

But then the locator winked out of existence, as if Shertan knew exactly how far away I was. I didn’t know if that was possible, but he’d just rendered it moot. There was no way for me to keep pace with him in the open. I’d have to backtrack through the tunnels, climb to the chapel, and risk being exposed by those pursuing me. Going around town would take exponentially longer.

Private Chat:

[Shertan}{Private:] The games are over, Tess. See you in an hour.

Mantalayana hovered at eye level, gazing at me with a twisted look of concern on her fiery features. “Command me, and your enemies shall perish.”

“Can you read my chat, as well?”

“I sense your emotions.”

We reached the cave without incident. Although I’d planned to flee and let Brunk be my guide since he’d fled to this region and might be able to reverse his route far enough for us to reach safety, Shertan foiled my plans. When I recalled the way Wizen the Cruel blew him away before my eyes, I believed he wouldn’t risk killing me. The taran might make short work of him, as he seemed to really want me at his side.

In his best dreams.

Inside the cave, Brunk was sitting on the larger of the two stones and using a simple rock to sharpen a pointed stick. His head jerked around, then he practically jumped to his feet. “Tess.” He slapped one hand to his chest between his massive pecs then bowed his head.

“It's good to see you, too, but Shabana is in trouble. She has been taken, and I can't track her.” I set my own hand over my thumping chest. “Would you help me?”

“Track…” he cocked one bushy eyebrow. “Find?” He twirled one finger around his temple. I didn't take the time to note it in my interface.

I nodded. “Yes. I want to track her, like I used to track game in the woods near my farm.”

Brunk scratched his chin. One hand whipped to the side as he pointed to the smaller stone. “Magic track Shabana?”

I almost slapped myself in the forehead with the heel of my palm. Although the magic might be a bit too advanced for me, it couldn't hurt to try. If there was ever a time to put my potential to the test, this was it. I scurried over to the stone, clawed my fingernails into the dirt to rip it away, then retrieved the tome from beneath the few remaining scrolls.

Acolyte Shertan,

In these pages, you will find an introductory treatment of the scrying art. My notes are in the margins. Unlike the other texts, this was not retrieved from the Plague Barrens. Its roots are in Shadow magic, like many of the other tomes. I encourage you to study this intently.

Währsager Jakkar

I flipped through the pages, read the instructions four times for good measure, then copied them into the Notes tab. Reading line by line proved successful. It worked this time, either because I increased my Runecrafting skill or because I read and saved line by line instead of trying to copy the whole tome. I stood stiff as a board, set my thumb in the crease between pages to hold the tome open, then chanted.

“Nustra Rominy Netaru”

Shadow Chain ignited.

Speak the words of the spell you wish to activate.

“Moyala Veruskin Troampa Visante.”

Nothing happened. Not so much as a tingle. I tried again.

“Moyala Veruskin Troampa Visante.” Nothing. “Dammit.” I stomped my foot. “Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!”

Despite his hulking size, Brunk jerked at my excitations.

I frowned, drew a deep breath slowly into my lungs, then made the tiniest little circle with my lips so it could drift out. I read the elven words carefully while moving my lips so that I could memorize them, then set the tome on the stone.

Shadow Chain expired.

I repeated the ignition spell. “Nustra Rominy Netaru.”

Shadow Chain ignited.

Speak the words of the spell you wish to activate.

This time, I pressed my elbows into my sides with my palms facing up, drew another deep breath, then spoke clearly. “Moyala Veruskin Troampa Visante.”

A wave of heat rushed from the soft flesh on the bottom of my feet, around my heel and past my ankle. It surged up my calves and across my knees before flooding into my upper body. My map appeared despite my eyes being closed, and I focused there as I repeated the words. The heat intensified as I drew energy from the lava lines deep in the ground beneath me. A hot pressure formed in my chest, then the pace of my heart’s pounding doubled. I struggled as I took in the subsequent breath.

But I forced calm into the words. “Moyala Veruskin Troampa Visante.” A red indicator blinked on my map. With a simple thought, I marked that spot with an X. I continued to chant the words, over and over and, although the heat bursting through me neared suffocating, I twisted my feet to solidify my stoic stance as the words flowed more naturally from my lips with repetition. The indicator blinked again, this time to the South and just west of its previous location. I dropped another X, pressed my lips together, then stopped chanting lest the heat overcome me. After allowing it to dissipate—although it receded little—I chanted the words one more time. When I added the newest X, I used my thoughts to draw a line between the three marks that I'd made.

I zoomed in on the map, and although most of the terrain was covered in a blanket of gray, the flags indicating landmarks remained. They pointed toward a lone flag just on the edge of the Great Iron Mountains stretching from far in the south near a town called Brumhill, all the way north, then west past Trowlsby.

King’s Mountain Outpost #4.

[Contessa of Millbury][Party:] Are you there?

[Dracin Welling][Party:] Yes. Leira fell, but we were victorious, and the high chancellor's men and women have fled. I see you are in the same place as before. I was hoping you would go further, but they have jumped into a portal back to Trowlsby. You should be safe, for now.

[Contessa of Millbury][Party:] I'm sorry to hear about Leira.

[Dracin Welling][Party:] It's okay, Roshan resurrected her.

[Contessa of Millbury][Party:] That bastard Shertan has kidnapped Shabana. He wants me to bring the tome to him, and I'm to go south to await further instruction. I think I know where he's going, but I don't dare go alone.

[Dracin Welling][Party:] He would want it since his master is coming from afar, and I wouldn't put it past him to kill her. If he went to such lengths to disguise himself, and if he truly serves the Währsager, his evil is not to be underestimated. Walk around to the east gate. You can go south along the inner wall then slip into the alley before the southern wall to come out by Looli's. Stock up on some food for buffs, and I will send what aid I can muster.

[Contessa of Millbury][Party:] Thank you, Uncle. I am forever in your debt.

[Dracin Dwelling][Party:] Having family in my life again has awoken the spirit of a man who feared he might never find it. The debt owed is mine. Now, go.

I closed the party chat, looked up at Brunk, then gave a single nod. “I think I will have help. I don't want you to come to harm, but I will visit soon.”

Brunk's eyebrows knitted together, and his forehead creased like rivers running across his flesh. Reaching into his pack, he withdrew a long spear with a silvery tip that came to a fine point. Grooves ran in waves the length of its shaft. “Brunk fight. Brunk help Shabana. No talk. Fight.” He pounded his chest twice, and although the gesture could have been mistaken for an answer in the affirmative, I knew better. I made a mental note that when he use the side of his fist, it meant something different.

And from the tight expression on his face, I knew he meant it.

42

Looli sat on one of her front steps with the usual assortment of wrapped foodstuffs lined neatly on the plank serving as a table. By her distant gaze and the way her head whipped around when I exited the alley, I assumed she’d been caught up in quite the daydream.

“Tess!” She slipped under the table then threw her arms around me. When she squeezed, something in my back gave a hollow pop. If that wasn’t enough, she cupped the back of my head and yanked it down so my face plowed into her shoulder.

“Mmph!” I pulled my head back. “You’re going to suffocate me.” But when she didn’t relent, I eased into the embrace. “It’s nice to see you, too.”

She gripped my shoulders then pushed me to arms’ length. “I was worried purple. What in Rubal happened? Shabana showed up, offered to sit in for you, said you’d run into some difficulties. I made her swear you’d be okay. I was about to march to the front gates, I’ll tell you that!”

“Well, it’s nice to be—”

Looli interrupted, her rant unrelenting. “Then all these dangerous-looking guardsman from goddess-knows-where show up asking if I’ve seen someone who fit your description perfectly. Down to the tip of your nose.” She flicked it with one finger for emphasis. “Guess they’re used to describing people because they had you pegged. A blind man would’ve pointed you out.”

“It’s a long story.”

“Well, if that Master Welling friend of yours is any indication, you don’t have time for lengthy tales, do you?” Looli cocked an eyebrow like it was loaded but didn’t wait for an answer. “The very notion, hunting a little girl like—”

“I’m taller than you.”

Looli squinted in such an evil expression, I thought her eyes might glow red. “Sass me again, and you’ll have no horses!” She chuckled.

But I didn’t join in. “Horses?”

“Yes?” she answered more like it was a question. “Your Master Welling said you’d need mounts. I happen to know the stableman—”

“You know everybody.”

She flicked a hand. “It’s true. I’m a social type. Anyway, I arranged for four horses without even leaving my porch.”

“Four? Why would I need—”

“Hello,” a voice said from behind. A chill twirled around my spine then climbed to the base of my neck. I turned on one heel, my hand set to grab my staff.

Elren Xen raised both hands to show me his palms. “Same team, Tess.”

The elven student I’d first noticed in Fundamentals of Magic then seen earlier that day as I was marched away from the temple stood a step or two behind him on the right. But I only caught sight of her out of the corner of my eyes because I couldn’t relinquish my glare from the one who’d threatened me with his staff just over an hour before. “How do you figure we’re on the same team?”

He lowered his hands, shared a look with the elf—who shrugged as if she’d ask, “Who could blame her?”—then turned back toward me.

Looli stepped between us, folded her arms across her lower torso, then cleared her throat. “This the one whose lights you had to punch out?”

“No, he’s dead. This is the one who tried to beat me when he suspected me of melting the other.”

“I’m here to help,” Elren said, “but you’re getting a little stupid with your mouth.”

Heat of the natural kind inspired by rage crept up my neck then into my face. “Stupid?” I nudged Looli aside then shoved his shoulder with the tips of two fingers. “Let me tell you about stupid!” Elren faltered back a couple steps when I shoved my palm into his chest. “Locking me in that goddess-forsaken study in The Below was stupid. Because now I have the skills to burn you where you stand.” Without diverting my gaze to my interface, I threw up a hand and channeled the same sensation I’d experienced previously to my fingertips. A portal flashed open, then Mantalayana zipped into the air overhead.

A fiery vapor trail followed as she zipped in circles around Elren’s head. “Shall I burn him, master? Set him ablaze? Leave his ashes in his boots?”

“Lesser Fire Summon?” the elven one asked.

I pried loose the shroud of anger and fumbled through my brain for her name.

Trayla. Trayla Shen.

She smiled. “Hello, fiery one. I’m Trayla.”

The name was even prettier in her soft voice than it’d been inside my mind.

“Hello, Trayla. I am Mantalayana. It pleases me to make your acquaintance, but I sense my master might require my services.”

Trayla waved a hand toward my pet. “Nice. Guess you’ve been leveling up.”

The anger subsided with her calm cadence. “Well, yes. Killed a wolf.” I turned a glare on Elren. “And another snake.”

“So now I’m a snake?” His voice came a little too relaxed for my taste. Did I detect a hint of humor, there?

But no matter how tiresome people not taking me seriously grated on my nerves, Shabana needed my help, and if I had any chance against a higher-level caster like Shertan, I’d need some, too. That Dracin Welling sent lower-level students to assist lent insight as to his fast thinking as well as his familiarity with the Shadow discipline. Elren and Trayla wouldn’t radiate magic essence in levels that would tip Shertan off.

It then dawned on me I hadn’t detected the warmth coming off Shertan until he was close because the glamouring magic he used to shroud his higher attributes might also have weakened him. Would he have been less powerful while glamoured?

That’s very interesting.

Elren raised his hands. “Look, I’m not so small-minded as to not admit a mistake. Try to see it from my point of view. My friend sends your name in party chat, then is found annihilated in his room. Considering your history in The Below, where you broke his nose, I deduced. But when Master Welling told me how Harbon had taken Shabana and had shrouded himself in magic to take revenge on the academy, it came together in my mind. I think Johin was warning me you were in danger.”

Nausea rose from the pit of my stomach. That Johin Tir’s last act might have been to protect me when he realized Harbon was about to kill him contradicted all I’d presumed. Although I had no way of knowing what the boy had and hadn’t learned before his death, I couldn’t rule the possibility out.

Somehow that bothered me. Probably guilt.

I slipped my staff into the sleeve in the strap on my back. “Thank you both for coming. I’m sorry I shoved you.”

Elren shook his head. “It’s understandable. We didn’t make things easy for you, and you’ve gone through a lot. I tried to attack you, so it’s mine to apologize.” He folded a hand across his waist, then bowed, but when his head came up again, he wore a stony expression. “But this bastard who killed Johin and threatens to take this academy away from us must be stopped. Shabana is one of ours, and we all want her back.”

The elf, Trayla, nodded agreement. I mirrored the gesture. “So, how to proceed?”

It was the elf who answered. “Master Welling said we’d be heading south.”

“Yes.”

“What level is Harbon?”

“His real name is Shertan. He’s level 19.”

“Too high, even against three of us. But the elves keep a detailed bestiary containing creatures they’ve scouted in eastern Rubal, and I took the liberty of reviewing one tome in my interface while we walked here. The beasts between Warrington and the Iron Mountain outpost primarily range from levels 9 to 15. Although I know you don’t want to linger, it would serve us to gain a couple levels. Do you think he’ll wait?”

I shrugged one shoulder, then reached into my exercise bag and withdrew the tome. “This is what he wants. He’ll wait.”

Looli gripped the mesh bag, slipped her thumb into a hole where the corner of the book had torn it, then shook her head. “This won’t do at all. I’ll be right back.” She slipped under the plank holding her goods with the practiced agility of someone who’d repeated the motion a thousand times.

“She seems the good sort,” Elren said. His eyes appreciated more than her demeanor.

I smirked.

“She’s wonderful.” A figure came into view in a wide alley across from Looli’s house. From the hulking shoulders and balding head, I recognized him as Bensin—the town tanner and one of Looli’s suitors. He grasped the reins of four horses who trailed behind him.

We met him in the center of the road. I nodded. “Hi, Bensin.”

“Hello, Tess. Looli asked me to bring these from the stables. Yundra was happy enough to rent them to her, but we didn’t tell what they were for. So, maybe you don’t tip our hand, eh?”

I smiled despite the tension coursing through my body with thoughts of what Shertan might do to Shabana. “I’ll keep quiet, I promise.”

He patted one of the animals on its side—a beautiful creature with a shining umber coat and a white blaze running down its snout. “They’re quarter horses, and speedy ones.”

“They’re perfect.” I approached the one he’d patted. “This one reminds me of my horse. I hope no one objects if I ride him.”

“A horse is a horse,” Elren said.

Trayla shot him a sideways glare. “Gah. Humans.” She ran her hand along the thick haunches of the white horse closest. “I shall ride with you, my friend.” The horse nickered as if he’d understood.

Elren approached the black horse in the center, which left a white one who stood half a hand taller than the others for Brunk. The black one stepped back, but calmed when Bensin tugged its reins.

A fine judge of character, perhaps.

Looli burst from the house carrying a leather bag over her shoulder. She slipped beneath the plank then offered it long before reaching me. “What do you think?”

I took the satchel, draped it over my arm, then ran my fingertips over the smooth leather. Two front pockets had copper hooks, but when I peeled the opening at the top apart, I spied a black void with swirling motes. My head snapped up. “What is this?”

Looli smiled. “It’s a magic container. It’ll only hold sixteen large items at a time, but some slots will hold multiple items, like fruit wraps.” She gestured toward the selection of fruit wraps she’d laid out. “I expect the three of you to clear the table of anything that will aid you.”

“But you already gave me one bag.”

“That old thing?” She raised a hand and flicked it down at the wrist dismissively.

Trayla bowed deeply. “Buffs will greatly benefit us in our journey, Lady Looli. I thank you.”

Looli clutched her hips. “You elven types are a little formal for my taste. I’m no lady, it’s just Looli.”

“Thank you, Looli.” The elf marched around her toward the food.

I hugged Looli again. “Forever will I call you friend, Looli Graples.”

She tousled my hair then pushed me away. “Right. And I, you, Tess of Millbury. Now, go.” She raised an arm, pointed a finger skyward, then twirled it in a circle. “Evil awaits.”

Elren stared at the uncommitted horse. “What’s with the fourth mount?”

“You’ll see.” For a few heartbeats, I wondered how Dracin had known we’d need a fourth. Then I recalled the voice chat I’d sent him before we escaped from the high chancellor through his portal. I’d said I had a friend in the cave I didn’t want to be discovered. My uncle didn’t miss anything.

I tied the fourth horse’s reins to the pommel of my saddle.

Once I’d collected a few fruit wraps I opened the top of the magic bag to slide them in. An interface window popped up depicting four rows of four slots each. The four wraps I shoved into the void fit in one slot, leaving me fifteen. After stowing away the tome, I was left with fourteen.

I left the exercise bag with Looli, then we mounted up and set off for the south gate. What a wonderful gift.

“Where’d you get the bag?”

Looli winked and flashed a sideways smile. “Come back whole, honey.”

I waved back, then took a capture as she stood with Bensin, my retired bag wadded under her arm.

Once we were outside the gate, I pointed the direction we’d want to go. I’d marked the area where Shertan said the tree should be. Although I’d considered bypassing it and sneaking up on him, it was always possible he’d double back once he’d deposited Shabana at the outpost. I was at least smart enough to know what I didn’t know. Combat tactics weren’t my forte, and I didn’t want to push my luck.

A cool breeze blew in from the south, carrying the elf’s high-pitched voice to me. “We should form a party, Tess.”

“I’m in one with Dracin. Can I add you to that?”

She shook her head. “We should have a separate party for combat. You can have two parties at once so you can stay in contact, but it will disband soon anyway. He’ll be out of range.”

“Dracin, huh?” Elren asked. “You’re on first name terms?”

“I’m no longer a student at the academy—or at least I don’t think so. Besides, it seems he’s my uncle.”

“Really? That’s quite a secret to keep.”

“I didn’t know until today.”

Goddess, it’s been a long day.

We rode into a thicket a half-mile from the gate as the star dropped toward the distant mountains to our back and right. Mantalayana zipped ahead and out of sight. Elren noticed the collection of trees diverted us from a direct path to the one serving as a rally point. “Why are we riding through this if it will only slow us down?”

“I have a friend, here. I need the two of you to promise not to…”

Trayla tilted her head, waiting for me to finish, then cocked her eyebrows. “Freak out?”

I pointed at her and nodded. “Yes. Don’t freak out.” I raised my chin into the air then whistled. A moment later, a shadowy figure in the distance appeared and sped toward us.

“What the hell is that?” Elren asked.

I grinned. “That’s Brunk. He’s a rock troll.”

Trayla coughed a single laugh. “You befriended a rock troll? How? They don’t even inhabit the east.”

“He escaped slavery in the west.”

“Ah. I see.”

Brunk stopped about fifteen feet short, his gaze flitting between my two new companions. I introduced everyone. To my surprise, Elren slid off his horse, went over to Brunk, then extended his hand. The rock troll grasped it and shook. For her part, Trayla gave a two fingered salute. I chuckled when Brunk’s thick fingers returned it.

Once I’d untied the reins, I threw one leg over the saddle and slid off my horse, letting my knees give a little when my feet hit the ground, like Baba taught me. When I offered the reins to my cave-dwelling friend, he eyed them with trepidation and his gaze followed them to the husky beast. Brunk shook his head.

“You can’t keep up on foot.”

Brunk eyed the reins, then the horse, then twisted his head again.

“How in the world did you come so far after you escaped if you didn’t have a mount?”

Brunk thrust a finger at his huge feet.

You have completed a quest!

Products of Our Memories

Using your Investigation skill, you got Brunk to open up about his past.

Objective 1: Learn where Brunk came from: Completed

Objective 2: Find out how he ended up in the cave: Completed

Rewards:

+3 to your Investigation skill

Increase relevant sub-skills during investigation.

+200 Reputation with Brunk

3,500 XP

My shoulders dropped. “C’mon big guy.” I grasped his wrist and tugged him forward. If he’d pulled away, there wouldn’t have been a thing I could have done about it, but he followed. I set his hand on the side of the horse’s neck then ran it toward his powerful shoulders.

The horse’s head twisted around, and it rumbled out a nicker.

Brunk jerked his hand away and stepped back. His head swiveled left and right.

“We have to help Shabana, Brunk.”

The troll’s thick lips turned white when he pressed them together. “Shabana, yes.” He took the reins, stepped toward the horse, then punched his fist to his chest. “Brunk.” Then he poked the horse with two fingers. “Friend?” He ran his hand along the horse’s neck, allowing his considerable fingernails to dig into the hair. His tone came soft as he leaned toward the animal. “Don’t like, but help Shabana. Yes?”

The horse turned its head away, then I stepped back and swept an arm toward the stirrups. “That’ll have to do. It’s getting dark.”

Elren leaned over his pommel, then whispered. “Do rock trolls have night vision?”

Brunk’s eyes narrowed. “Brunk see in dark.” He raised his index fingers to his temples then thrust them forward. “See fine.”

“Then we all have night vision. Welcome to the team, big guy.”

The last I’d heard such a congenial tone from Elren, he’d been inviting Shabana and me to hang out with Johin. Not a great memory.

I coaxed Brunk onto the horse. Reaching high, I grabbed a hand and set it on the pommel. “Until you’re feeling balanced, you can grab there. When you feel better about riding, you can just use the reins. He should follow us without much coaxing, but if he strays, just pull the reins in the direction you want to go. If you want him to stop, yank back on them.” I eyed the boulders-for-shoulders on the rock troll, “But don’t yank too hard, right?”

Brunk grunted. I took that as a ‘yes.’

We slid between the thicket’s trees with my mount in the lead. I aimed for the more predictable footing devoid of pine straw where I could, lest we slide into a hole or something. One of the horses nickered behind me, and I looked back to spy a long snake with orange diamonds painted on black scales. The serpent turned away from the party without any coaxing, so I returned my focus to the front. I still shivered, though.

When we exited the tree line, a field of the greenest grass I’d ever seen greeted us. The breeze shifted direction and brought its familiar scent on the air, and a yearning for home tugged my heart. The land leading to the rocky foothills in the distance was flat, with only smatterings of shrubbery here and there. Easy footing for our mounts. I opened my map and led the party to the last spot I’d marked.

The grass rose halfway up my horse’s legs. I eyed it when we reached the mark, then I spied what I was looking for. I pointed. “There. See those trampled blades?”

Trayla nodded. “Good eye.”

You have unlocked the Tracking skill.

Your attention to detail pays dividends!

Because of your previous life experience tracking animals, you receive ten skill points in Tracking.

Your Tracking Skill has reached rank 11.

+500 XP

I might have celebrated the announcement from my interface, but for all the times I hunted with my father, the goddess was being stingy.

43

“The tree is due south.” I pointed. “But now we can draw a line from here to the outpost and know what path he took.”

Trayla nodded on her mount next to me. “Good plan. We should watch for an ambush.”

Elren clicked his tongue and eased his mount forward so he rested on the other side. “Maybe you should fill us in on the details a bit.”

“About Harbon? Sure. He’s been serving a taran of considerable power.”

“Was he the one who Charmed you before you shredded the exercise field?” Trayla asked.

“One and the same. I think he took advantage when Harbon—his real name is Shertan—was scheming revenge on those who killed his master… the Währsager.”

Elren ran one hand through his reddish hair. “If Master Welling hadn’t been so driven about getting us out here, I might not have believed the story. So, he was an acolyte?”

“Yes.” I clicked my tongue and flicked the reins. The horse headed south, and we rode three abreast while Brunk brought up the rear of our procession. “Best I can divine, he hunted magic users for the Währsager.”

“For what purpose?” Elren asked.

“About that, I’m unclear.”

Trayla diverted her gaze to the western mountains before glancing at me, then down.

“You know something we don’t?”

She considered the question for a few heartbeats, then nodded. “The governor conscripted magic users. Wiped their memories, farmed them out to the king’s allies in Millbury Peaks. There are rumors about a demon underlord making use of them, as well, but those details are kept close in the queen’s circle.”

That latter part I certainly didn’t recall from my conversation with Roshan and Dracin.

Elren shook his head. “I’d heard all kinds of strange rumors, but nothing so… nefarious. What a bastard.”

I raised an eyebrow. “The governor? I don’t think you’d find many to debate you on that count where I’m from. I’m sure we all shared similar thoughts each time his tax collectors arrived.” We crested the rise of a short hill, then I spied a twisted form in the distance. “There’s the tree.”

Devoid of leaves, its branches twisted around its trunk in a way I’d never seen, spiraling high to its top. When I drew closer, a nauseating heat swelled in the pit of my stomach.

Elren pointed north. “Keep an eye out for movement. If he’s going to spy on us, his vantage point will be among those rises.”

By the time we reached the blackened, lifeless soil surrounding the tree, I longed to set it ablaze and leave a pile of ashes. When I looked around, I noticed Trayla kept her distance.

She caught my gaze. “There is no Light in that thing. I will not approach it.”

I considered asking how she’d do when she approached Shertan and sensed the depth of his Shadow affinity, then I reconsidered. Despite my response to his essence at close proximity, even when he revealed his true form, it hadn’t clawed at my innards like the tree.

Private Chat:

[Contessa of Millbury][Private:] I’m at the tree.

[Shertan][Private:] Ah, you made good time. Acquired a mount, I suspect. How do you like the tree? Empowers you, right?

[Contessa of Millbury][Private:] It disgusts me. Is Shabana okay?

[Shertan][Private:] She’s uninjured. Your concern for your friend is endearing. If I could inspire such loyalty, we’d make quite the team.

[Contessa of Millbury][Private:] In your sweetest dreams.

[Shertan]]Private:] Have it your way. Come northwest toward the Iron Mountains. Coordinates N: 234 , W: 187.

You’d better have my tome.

I opened my map and scanned the topography while the numbered coordinates shifted in the top right corner of the pane. “He’s bringing us around from the north instead of a direct path to the west.”

Trayla called out from behind us, proving her elven hearing was up to the task. “I don’t see any landmarks on my map there. What do you think?”

I raised a shoulder. “He’s probably bringing me in where he has the best vantage point. Maybe hiding in the rocks at the foot of that mountain.” I pointed a finger toward the high peak rising over the horizon.

We turned our horses from the tree to rejoin Trayla.

Elren drummed his fingers on one knee. “Then maybe we should split up. The three of us can wrap around from the south.”

My map popped up, then a line crept across the land from our location to the outpost.

He drew an X. “If we come from this way, his view south would be blocked by the curve there.”

“Smart, slowly spreading ourselves apart like that keeps you all in range if he attacks.” I gave an approving nod.

“Thanks.”

“Brunk with Tess.” My rock troll friend made walking fingers with one hand,

I shook my head. “He’ll spot you.”

Brunk folded his arms across his chest, raised his chin, and peered skyward. “Brunk with Tess.”

Mantalayana zoomed in from the south then hovered over us to listen in.

Trayla chuckled. “Are all rock trolls stubborn like you?”

“Stub—Stubborn?”

“Hard-headed? Set in their ways? Determined?”

The bushy black eyebrows shot up at the mention of the last word. He thumped his chest with the side of his fist, making me wonder how many subtle meanings were wrapped up in the gesture. “Determined. Brunk loyal. Brunk…” this time he pressed two fingers to his chest, then shoved them toward me. “Tess.”

I suppressed a sigh. “You’ll be seen.”

Brunk shook his head. He pointed due west. To my surprise, my map popped up again, then a new line of blue instead of red crept westward, splitting the difference between the two tracks Elren had drawn. An X appeared in its center. “Brunk.”

Elren shrugged, but Trayla nodded. “I think I have a better idea.”

“I like ideas.”

“I think the troll is smarter than we’re giving him credit for. If Shertan sees you coming with a friend, he’ll think you disobeyed him, but he might also be fooled into thinking Brunk is your lone ally. He’ll analyze him, and seeing Brunk is a level 14, he’ll think he can easily handle both of you. Then we come riding in to save the day.”

“Chivalrous hero suits me fine.” Elren dripped sarcasm.

Despite myself, my disposition toward him was starting to ease. “Tell me Elren, what’s your Charisma score?”

“Why?” He laughed. “Are you upset you’re starting to enjoy my companionship?”

I scowled.

“I’m just being me, Tess. If my Charisma score aids me in winning your trust, I have little control over it. I don’t hold it against you, but you have a lot to learn about how attributes work.”

“Fair enough.” I allowed the slightest smile. “Anyway, I like the plan. Let’s split along our paths from here.” I glanced up at my lesser summon. “Manty, shouldn’t you be scouting?”

“Yes, master. I should.” I considered my rock troll companion then crooked a finger toward my summon and drew her to me. “And let’s cut the master stuff. It has different meanings to Brunk. Tess will do.”

“Of course, Tess.” She zipped off to the west.

Trayla had a final thought before we departed. “Make sure you stay in party range. It won’t do to get separated. If the party disbands, ride toward us a bit until we’ve spaced it out just right.”

“Um, guys.” Elren thrust his finger southwest. “What in the underworld is that?”

A massive beast with a curved horn at the end of a long snout hauled itself in our direction. So hulking was its form, it could’ve been mistaken for a boulder.

Trayla winked her eyes then I followed suit.

Tundra Rhino

Weighing over 1,000 pounds, adult Tundra Rhinos are formidable adversaries with high Constitution ratings and powerful wind attacks.

Level 13

Melee Power Rating: 26

Melee Defense Rating: 19

Ranged Power Rating: 11

Ranged Defense Rating: 7

Magic Power Rating: 7

Magic Resistance Rating: 4

“Can it run us down?” I asked. “Should we flee?”

Trayla shook her head as she reached for the staff on her back. “Don’t let its size or the range fool you. It’s fast. Elren, you could use some Light ranks. Heal for us. I’ll DPS with my bow.”

“Remind me,” I said. “DPS?”

“Damage per second. Just like you. All offense.”

I snapped my fingers. “Right!”

Trayla turned. “Hey, Brunk, can you tank?”

“Tank?”

“Fight up close. Keep it mad at you?”

Brunk eyed the incoming threat, winked his own eyes in succession, then a wide smile crossed his face. “Adventure!” He clumsily yanked his feet from the stirrups, jumped off the horse, tugged his pack off his back, then yanked his spear free.

Now that I had a magic bag of my own, I knew how such a lengthy weapon could fit in such a small pack, but a question popped into my head.

“Where’d you get that?” I pointed at the bag.

“Slavers. Stole.”

“Good for you, man,” Elren said. “Now we better form up. It’s coming.”

The rhino bore down. The whites of its eyes glowed. A casting bar above it ticked from left to right in stutters.

It took me only a second to realize what was going on. “He’s charging something up, timing it for when he reaches us.”

“Then we’d better spread out.” Trayla bobbed a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll be back there, concealing myself among the higher grass.” She slapped Brunk’s shoulder. “Good luck with that, big guy.”

Brunk’s grin persisted. “Brunk fight!” He charged away, his spear held high, pumping it wildly in the air as he went.

Elren reached out with one hand as if he’d magically stop the lumbering troll, then dropped it. “Oh, well. He’ll learn. I better get in healing range.” He sprinted off.

I turned to share an eyeroll with Trayla, but she’d vanished. “What in the…” then I spied the tip of her bow bouncing around in the high grass and recalled how fast she’d been on the exercise field.

Well, it seems I’m the only one standing around.

My staff came free in an easy motion as I sped toward Elren. My assumption was that standing the same distance from the fight as the healer made sense, but I had little experience to compare by. My heart fluttered with exhilaration, right up until Brunk charged into the rhino, barely avoided the tip of its horn, then was surrounded by a flash of white light as the beast lowered then flung its head upward in a brutal attack.

Tundra Rhino uses Thunder Charge

Brunk

-94 HP

The rock troll flew skyward, flipped in the air, then slammed hard on his backside.

Then the rhino turned its eyes on me. It snorted so hard through its nostrils, loose soil rose from the earth and swirled around.

Uh-oh.

44

The fiasco seemed to unwind at the speed of a twister plowing across an open field. My expectations disintegrated as the hulking rhino lowered its head then charged my way without provocation. An arrow sailed from my right. It lodged into the beast’s shoulder with no discerning effect. My temples throbbed under the threat, but I held my ground until the last possible moment before diving away. The rhino lumbered by as the high grass raked the front of my robe.

“You need to learn how to roll!” Elren shouted. He raised one glowing hand.

Elren casts Minor Heal.

Brunk is healed for 16 HP.

Brunk receives healing-over-time effect.

+8 HP

+6 HP

+8 HP

67% HP remaining

The report sent a wave of hot fear through my torso. If Roshan had been around, Brunk’s health would’ve been fully replenished, but it hadn’t dawned on me just how weak Elren’s spells would be. I intuited that, as a much lower level who hadn’t practiced enough to raise his Light Magic skill, he suffered penalties.

I whipped my head around, expecting to see the beast turning my direction, but Elren’s loud suggestion that I learn how to fall more efficiently had drawn its focus. It stomped one foot alongside its massive head then dragged it backward. A casting bar appeared overhead, then it repeated the gesture.

Trayla rose and shouted from the high grass. “Tess! Engage! Where’s your pet?” She shoved a finger toward Elren. “Protect the healer!”

“Manty!” I spun in a circle, searching the sky, then spotted a tiny glowing orange mote zipping in our direction. Within seconds, she zoomed past me.

“I’m here, Tess!” Just before the rhino’s casting bar filled, she spat a torrent of fire along its back.

Mantalayana casts Flame Trench.

Tundra Rhino Resists

-0 HP

“Move!” I waved both arms to my right. “Get out of there!”

The rhino’s casting meter filled, then it shot across the open space between it and our healer. Elren dove and tried to roll into a ball but the attack clipped his legs and spun him sideways so he careened through the air. One sandal popped free of his foot and flew away.

Tundra Rhino clips Elren Xen.

-26 HP

208 HP Remaining

The rhino’s heavy feet dragged trenches in the ground as it skidded to a halt, and a hollow sensation punched my chest with the realization he’d have killed Elren in a single blow if it’d landed flush.

Elren sat up, shook his head to clear the cobwebs, then snapped around as if he suddenly remembered the threat.

This time, the rhino didn’t stop to prepare a long-ranged attack. It charged forward, bearing down on its target.

Elren kicked off his remaining sandal as he jumped to his feet. He spun his staff in a blur then whipped it from one side of his body to the other as it spun. But anyone watching the thousand-pound beast rumbling toward him would’ve seen that any attack would’ve proved futile.

A white flash surrounded Elren.

Trayla casts Flash Heal.

Elren Xen is healed for 26 HP.

100% HP

Mantalayana zipped through the air and shot off another flurry of flames that streaked across the rhino’s face and over its massive forehead.

Mantalayana casts Flame.

Tundra Rhino Resists

-0 HP

Like the arrow Trayla fired moments ago, the fire wasn’t having any effect. My every muscle trembled with trepidation as I twirled my hands. Fiery tendrils burst from the ground then wrapped themselves around the rhino’s legs. The beast skidded to a halt.

You cast Flame Bindings.

Tundra Rhino is Encumbered.

Tundra Rhino Resists.

-0 HP

Tundra Rhino is Encumbered.

Okay, so even though he’s resisting the fire damage, at least the bindings worked.

I cast an eye skyward as Mantalayana turned in a wide arc to pass for another attack. The rhino’s thick skin resisted fire, rendering my summon useless, and I didn’t want to see her hurt. “Sorry Manty!” I dismissed her, focused on another spell, then raised my hand into the air.

When I focused on the spell I wanted, an image of a blonde caster appeared. She waved her hands in a circular motion with one following the other in a pattern over her head before swinging them down by her sides. I mimicked the gesture as I focused on the spell name. A chill coursed from my shoulders, across my biceps, down my forearm, then burst through my fingertips when I brought my arms down. White light bloomed with the sensation of cold as it zipped across my flesh.

An ice blue line split the air above me then spread into a portal. A bright figure of the same color about twice the size of Mantalayana burst into the open.

You cast Summon Lesser Ice Spirit.

Killian has been born into Enora!

The Rhino burst free of its encumbrances then burst toward Elren.

My new ice spirit zipped in front of me then hovered at eye level. Although high-pitched, the timbre of his voice was deeper than Mantalayana’s. “Command me Tess, or I can choose my own attacks if you desire.”

Trying to keep up with his skills would serve only to slow my own contributions to the battle. “Choose your own. Go!”

The rhino bore down as Elren’s staff spun in tight circles, creating figure eights as it crossed his body. When his enemy came within twenty feet, he thrust one shoulder back, then extended his arm. The staff spun as it zoomed through the air then clanked off the rhino’s head.

My interface reported there’d been no damage. The beast continued its charge.

Killian zoomed in, spread his lips to reveal rows of sharp white teeth, then expelled a blizzard of crystalline blades that punctured the soil across the rhino’s path.

Killian casts Icy Barrage.

The crystals planted in the ground. Although I wondered for a fleeting moment what good they’d do, I received my answer as the rhino closed the last of the distance and his huge round feet stepped on the shards. The beast’s knees buckled. It thumped to the ground, then it slid the last few feet, where its face lay inches from Elren’s.

The look of horror on our healer’s face might have been comical if not for the tense situation. Still, I took a capture. It wasn’t like it required effort.

The rhino raised one foot. Streams of blood crossed its thick skin. It drew its head back toward its shoulders and prepared to strike. But Brunk burst into view, leaped high into the air, then brought his spear down on the animal’s back with a vicious thrust complimented by his descending weight. Half the shaft buried into the rhino’s rump as Elren scurried away toward me.

Brunk uses Leaping Strike.

Critical Hit!

Tundra Rhino

- 56 HP (+25 Critical Damage)

Having a level 14 brute on my side was a boon, and I whispered a few quick words of thanks to the goddess.

Trayla zoomed past me with her bow bouncing on her back and a staff clutched in both hands. When Elren came into range, she stopped. “I’ll heal. Your Light Magic skill rank is too low. If you cast lesser heals to elevate it, you’ll be more effective.”

Although I expected him to flash an evil glare, he surprised me with a quick nod. “Will do.” He rushed over to me, then turned and peered down at his feet as he stepped off to my right.

Why is he counting off paces? The answer came as quickly as the unspoken question. Measuring his casting range.

Once he seemed to be satisfied with the separation between us, he raised his hand and cast a healing spell on himself. He’d even exhibited the mindfulness to recover his weapon while Brunk distracted the rhino.

The rock troll straddled the rhino, his legs clutching the beast’s thick neck. He raised his bloody spear then brought it down on the beast’s head. Although it didn’t penetrate as deep as when his weight complimented the thrust, a new wound opened in the rhino when Brunk pulled it away.

My interface filled with text from all the ensuing actions of my party, and I blinked with frustration. With a thought, the text window slid out of view and I focused on my Spells tab. One caught my eye.

Drain Life

Drain 30 HP per second from enemies with less than 50% health remaining.

Type: Channeled Spell

Cost: 10 mana per second

Damage: 20 HP per second

Cooldown: 1 Minute

The Text faded then became transparent as I focused through it at the rhino.

Tundra Rhino

47% HP remaining

The caster woman appeared in my interface then demonstrated, reaching out with both hands then forming claws as crimson energy flowed from her finger tips. I repeated the gesture, but I received a message that I was a couple yards out of range, so I sped forward and tried again.

You cast Drain Life.

Tundra Rhino

-14 HP

(6 HP Resisted)

-14 HP

(6 HP Resisted.)

Elemental resistance is one thing, but what’s this?

According to the spell description, I should’ve done twenty hit points of damage per second. Then it occurred to me that the rhino was several levels higher. I suspected that gap accounted for the difference.

I was yanked out of my thoughts by an alarming message.

Enmity with Tundra Rhino has reached 17%.

I blurted the word. “Enmity?”

Elren answered. “Hate. Focus on the word in your interface.”

“Gah! This I should know by now!” I focused.

Enmity

Enmity is divided among party members according to who has most frustrated an opponent. When your enmity reaches a higher percentage than those of your comrades in arms, your enemy will attack you.

Elren took a step in my direction. “How do you channel a spell like that when you’re focused on your interface?”

I returned my gaze to the reddish energy flooding from the rhino and into my fingertips. “I don’t know, I just feel it and maintain that sensation. It’s separate from what my brain is doing. Does that make any sense?”

Enmity with Tundra Rhino has reached 27%.

“None whatsoever. You’re truly a natural, Contessa of Millbury.”

The rhino flexed its haunches, then shot up onto its hind legs.

Brunk slid down its back, his thick hands clawing for purchase to no avail. He thumped to the ground, then the rhino sat on him, eliciting a howl of pain.

The sound pierced my ears, and my heart thumped in a violent show of empathy.

Trayla called out. “Prop up the troll with some of your HOT spells, and I’ll hit him with Flash Heals until the rhino moves. Stack it up.”

“Got it.” Elren thrusted out a clawed hand. It flashed white.

My mana bar flashed in warning that I was running low, and when I focused on it, a lump formed in my throat. I was out of mana.

I stopped casting, then the rhino stood up and turned toward me.

Enmity with Tundra Rhino has reached 41%.

Warning, attack imminent.

Elren waved his free hand furiously. “Tess, run!”

The scene slowed for a moment as the rhino scraped its thick foot on the ground then launched in my direction. Such speed from a huge beast was a sight to behold, and it dawned on me I’d never outrun it. After all, we were in flatlands. There were no trees to climb or holes to dive into.

Killian laid down another trail of ice in the rhino’s path, but when its feet fell onto the shards, it continued its charge without faltering. My mana bar blinked. Brunk rolled around, grunting in pain. Trayla waved furiously, joining in the calls for me to run.

A voice rang out in my mind.

Call on your fire, girl.

I threw my arms up into a V, then closed my eyes.

Elren protested. “Tess! Your mana is empty. What are you doing?”

I pictured the scene outside the dormitory when I’d almost attacked Roshan, tried to home in on the fiery sensation that’d rushed through my body from my feet up. When I recalled how the ground seemed to heat and swell beneath my feet, that same sensation bloomed again.

The heat rushed up my legs, channeling through me faster than before. I dropped my clawed hands, stretched them out, opened my eyes, then jerked at the sight of the impending doom rushing toward me. Thundering hooves kicked up dirt.

I squinted, ground my teeth. The hot energy brought droplets of sweat to my forehead.

The rhino’s color changed from stone gray to a glowing red as the crimson energy siphoned from the lava lines erupted from my palms. I turned the rays inward and they channeled into one thicker ray of heat.

Warning:

When channeling the power of The Source while your mana is depleted, your health is used to fuel your attacks.

Channeling cost: 10 HP per second

Note: You do not recover mana while channeling from your health pool.

The impact sliced through the center of the already-depleted rhino’s face, splitting a grotesque chasm between its nostrils and eyes then peeling away the flesh. Energy engulfed its head as it slammed to the ground. Its eyes popped, sending red and white rivers down its snout. Then the ray thickened on that end and surged back toward me in a sudden burst of magic power.

The world blinked out of existence.

45

It was like the goddess had snapped her fingers. My heart pounded a single time in my chest, then my eyes shot open. Although I stood in the same spot, and Brunk, Elren, and Trayla were there, the sudden blackness had left me expecting everything would have changed. I couldn’t make sense of it.

You have reached zero HP.

Ring of Resurrection activated.

Ring of Resurrection will not charge again for twenty-four hours.

I splayed my fingers at eye level and stared at the ring.

Elren gave my back a gentle clap, but the way I jerked, one might have thought he stabbed me. He didn't seem to notice. “Good job, Tess. Although I'd seen the results of what you could do in the exercise field, I still couldn't believe it when I saw with my own eyes. Was that the same spell?” His tone became concerned when my blank stare lingered a few moments more. “Tess? Are you okay?”

“Did I miss something?” Trayla stepped closer. “What's going on?”

Brunk joined, his greenish skin splattered with red droplets. “Tess okay?”

The world finally came back into focus, and the realization of the message in my interface hit home. “Dammit!” So as to keep any questions at bay, I shoved the hand of splayed fingers out and swung it in a wide arc so each can see. “A gift from Roshan. What I just did would've killed me if it hadn't been for the ring.”

“That’s some gift,” Elren said. “I wonder if she has any more.”

Trayla shook her head in frustration. “But that also means if we encounter another precarious conflict, you will have no safe ground to fall on.”

Elren shrugged his shoulders high and turned his palms toward the sky. “Then we'll just have to be careful. Cheer up, Tess. We just defeated a much higher-level enemy who probably should have crushed us underfoot. I mean, we all leveled. Isn't that worth celebrating instead of wallowing in our gloom?”

One of my shoulders twitched. “Brunk is higher level, don’t underestimate his contribution.”

I noted the flashing icon in my interface and focused there. A translucent pane filled the center of my field-of-view.

Congratulations!

You have reached level 10!

You will now receive four elective attribute points per level.

You have four attribute points to spend.

You may now choose one lesser summoned spirit to be upgraded to standard rank via a special quest.

Mantalayana has learned:

Flame Beacon

The lesser fire spirit radiates with energy casting light 30 meters in all directions.

Type: Spell

Damage: N/A

Cooldown: N/A

Fire Sight

The lesser fire spirit concentrates its inner heat to blast beams from its eyes.

Type: Spell

Cost 50 Mana

Damage: 35-50

Cooldown: 5 seconds

Your Ice Summon must increase combat experience to receive skill upgrades.

“I can't believe your luck,” Trayla blurted. “Powers I've only heard of in lore, and a Ring of Resurrection, to boot.” She strode away from me in the direction of the corpse whose head I'd almost sliced completely in half. Although the sight of the dead monster was grisly, I did have to revel—just a little.

Brunk tilted his head, raised his bushy eyebrows, as he was wont to do, then gently tapped the side of his fist against his chest four times.

“Just to be sure of your meaning,” I asked, “does that mean you're wondering if I'm okay?”

He nodded then turned and followed Trayla toward the rhino. I watched his bulging back muscles as he walked away and reached into his belt to produce the knife with which I'd seen him carving a spear earlier.

I guess he decided I was fine.

Elren stepped closer. “Alone at last.”

I shot him a look, and even though I read the jest in his eyes, I stomped after the other two.

He followed behind me. “Hey, I was just kidding. Joking around. You’re not going to zap me or something, are you?”

He still wore that boyish smile, so I ignored him. By the time I arrived at the rhino, Brunk’s knife was buried to the hilt as he sliced along its gut. I watched with rapt interest as he worked the knife in a nice clean line, its blade growing shallower then deeper as he plunged it. When he reached the tough skin before its neck, he slipped out the blade then started a crosscut.

A few minutes later, Brunk had worked his way across its body. He cut circles three quarters of the way around and across the backside to create a kind of square. Then he carved around the very tops of the legs. After that, he wiped the blood on his shorts then shoved his knife back into the sheath.

Brunk dug his fingers into the rear corner of the belly cut. With a grunt, he ripped it away from the flesh beneath. Then he worked his way forward, digging his fingers in where the skin still bound to the meat and repeating the gesture. When the skin reached the legs, he retrieved his knife, cut a neat line right up the middle, then edged it around the circles he'd cut earlier.

Three-quarters of that animal's skin came away in one huge piece. Brunk rolled it up as one might a bed fur or a rug, then he offered it to me.

I shuffled back a step. “What? I don't even know if I can lift that. Why are you giving it to me?”

Since his hands were full, he cocked his chin and turned his eyes toward my hip. I glanced down to find Looli's bag, where it rested at the end of the long strap I'd thrown over the opposite shoulder. “Magic?”

“The bag?” I nodded. “Yes. It's magic.” Then his meaning dawned. “Wait. You have to be kidding me. There's no way that gigantic roll of rhino skin is going to fit in this.” I slapped the bag for emphasis.

Trayla disagreed. “Of course it will. That's why they call it a magic bag.” She shook her head in something approaching derision, but the expression on her face was just a little bit less harsh, so I chose not to be offended.

But I also wasn't an idiot. I unfastened and pulled back the flap to show her the black void. “It lacks the circumference to fit the rug.”

Trayla set her hands on her hips. She closed her eyes, lowered her chin, and shook her head. “I don't think they teach you humans anything.” Her head snapped up as quickly as it had dropped and her eyes opened wide. “I must sound like a total bitch. But it's not your fault. Focus on your Inventory tab. Got it?”

I nodded.

“See all the slots that represent the storage?”

Again, I bobbed my head.

“Now lay your hand on the rhino roll while you focus on an empty slot.”

When I did, the rug faded from sight. The divider between two of the squares representing slots in my bag disappeared. In the wider space left behind appeared the image of the roll.

The young elven woman clutched my shoulder, gave it a single shake, then jerked her chin down.

“So, are we going to gut it, too?”

The three of us shot glares at Elren.

“All right, all right. I get it. Not the time for my snarky mouth.” He gave a two-fingered salute.

When we were reasonably convinced he'd gotten the full extent of the message, we headed away from the beast then wrangled the mounts who’d dispersed when the rhino charged. Elren had to chase his because it had run off during the conflict. I examined the rock troll while we waited.

Elren had exaggerated when he said we had all leveled. Brunk remained level 14, and I suspected he didn't consider him one of us. Although Johin tended to call non-humans whatever slur suited him, Elren seemed to like Shabana just fine. Maybe rock trolls didn't count in his estimations.

By the time he returned, we were all mounted and lingering. But once we were all back together, we split off again with Elren and Trayla headed south. Brunk and I plodded west toward the rocks.

We rode in silence until we came to the loose rocks on an incline leading up to the rock faces of the Iron Mountains. I looked north then south. “Do you see a path anywhere, Brunky?”

He cocked one of those bushy eyebrows—again. “Brunky?”

It didn't sound nearly as cute when delivered in his gruff tone.

I waved it away. “Go that way.” I pointed north “Let me know if you find a trail.”

Brunk grunted.

My horse’s hooves crunched on the rocks at the base of the mountain as I passed around a towering boulder. I nearly fell off my mount when I spied a figure standing halfway up the incline on a narrow trail that led down to the massive stone. He marched forward like a man with a purpose.

Shertan.

He raised a finger then pressed it to his lips. His voice came in a harsh whisper. “You cheated. Brought friends. I should go back and kill Shabana now. Better yet, I should murder you on your mount and take what's mine. It was never meant for your eyes, anyway.”

I glared at him but decided answering wasn’t in my best interest. It had been the longest day of my life—and I’d lived on a farm, so that was saying something—and the battle against the rhino had mentally drained me. The whole time, there had been this little tick in the back of my brain that these people, and a rock troll, were in danger because of me. This led me to think maybe it was best if I left them out of the remainder of my task. They’d gotten me this far, and that should be enough.

“I don’t care about the tome. I don’t care about you, either. All I want in this world is to have Shabana back. So let’s deal. How are we doing this?”

Shertan folded his arms across his chest, and gave the subtlest of nods. “You and I are cut from the same cloth, Tess.” He raised a hand before I could object. “I know. Believe me, I know what it’s like to be a good person. Of course you wouldn’t think so, now. But when your own father abandons you and leaves you with nothing, your perspective changes. You see the Währsager as this mythical source of evil, this demon bastard, right?”

“I suppose you’re going to try to tell me that he was something else, entirely.”

“Actually, he could be a real bastard. That much is true. But he was my bastard. My master. My savior. The man who scried my magic essence and sent another acolyte to find me.”

A question occurred. “And what happened to this acolyte?”

“It’s interesting you ask. It has taken me the longest time to get an answer to that question. It wasn’t until my new master came along that I did. That bitch Roshan and her crowd of conspirators—including Guiles Renard—murdered him in the Plague Barrens.” He moved closer and stopped just a foot from my horse’s snout.

The horse grumbled in a fine display of its good instincts, in my humble opinion.

“But it’s not for that waste of mana I seek retribution. Währsager Jakkar was like a father to me when my own relinquished the responsibility.”

“So, because Roshan tends to the needs of the university students, you decided everybody has to pay the price of your revenge. All those people because one of the supposed murderers happens to reside there. I’m sorry, what were you saying about knowing what it’s like to be a good person?”

He wheeled around then moved away. It was at least a minute later before he turned his head just enough for me to hear his voice echo off the rocks. “The outpost is cut into the face of the mountain just around this curve. Let’s get this done.”

A pang of guilt washed over me as I scanned the horizon to the south for my human and elven companions, then past the boulder as I climbed the trail in search of Brunk. This was for the best. Maybe I could get the deed done before they figured out where I went, and if things went wrong, they would be spared.

This time, the voice bursting into my mind was my own.

Are you crazy? Tell them where you are!

They’d come of their own volition. They could have declined. Baba had told me about elves of lore whose devotion to the Light was unrivaled. That might explain Trayla’s being there, but what about Elren? Maybe he’d come to avenge his friend’s death, but it seemed more than that. Advancement? No, I didn’t think so.

But my lack of certainty about Elren made me appreciate Brunk all the more. The rock troll hadn’t hesitated when he heard Shabana—who he’d met but once—was in trouble. He’d hardly wanted to leave my side.

And now you want to leave his when he’s the highest level in your party.

My doubts fled when the rapid clopping of his horse’s hooves echoed off the rock faces, then Brunk appeared on my side of the boulder. He sped past, spotted me, then reined his horse around like a seasoned rider.

Shertan spun around, spotted the rock troll, then winked his eyes in succession. “A troll, Tess? Seriously? Wherever did you find this beast? Did you think bringing a higher level would help?” He laughed, the sinister sound echoing off the rocks and surrounding me.

Once I’d shoved down the desire to curse him into the underworld, I drew a breath. “All I want is Shabana.”

Hoofbeats from the south introduced the other pair. But when I looked that way, I spied a third rider’s shadowy silhouette. Since the sun had vanished behind the northwestern peaks, I couldn’t make out who accompanied Elren and Trayla, but long, flowing robes created a windblown canopy in the shadow’s wake.

I cast Inner Illumination and, when I realized who it was, the chill of premonition shuddered through me.

What the hell was she doing here?

The horses came to a stop. Elren’s face twisted up in what I thought was an apology.

I shook my head, hoping it conveyed understanding.

The third dropped her hood, revealing the dyed green roots merging into the cascading black locks that fell flat and ran halfway down her back.

I snarled at the woman who’d Silenced me then treated me like a wart. “Yin.”

“You don’t sound happy to see me.” She patted the center of her chest with one palm. “I’m shattered.” Then she cast a gaze toward Shertan. “You missed a couple.”

He turned and strode up the path. “I knew they were there. I was hoping to keep this simple. But now that you’ve brought them, we might as well all go.”

I winked my eyes in succession.

Yin

Human

Level 45 Shade Witch

Melee Power Rating: 34

Melee Defense Rating: 26

Ranged Power Rating: 19

Ranged Defense Rating: 29

Magic Power Rating: 91

Magic Defense Rating: 72

Even without a solid understanding—any, really—of how these numbers reflected one’s power, these dwarfed any I’d seen before. There was no way we could stand against Master Durring’s assistant if she chose to unleash her power upon us. I absently twisted the ring on my finger with the thumb of the same hand. When I realized I was doing it, I balled up a fist then dropped it to my leg. The charge was spent, and soon we’d all be dead.

Yin’s appearance proved one thing with certainty—Shertan had never planned on returning Shabana. She couldn’t reveal herself and let us live if she planned to resume her duties at the university. I was mystified about her motives in aiding the former acolyte of a vampire. But none of that mattered when I considered the ultimate outcome.

She raised a hand. It flashed purple, then my interface reported I was Silenced.

Of course I was.

Yin made a shooing gesture with the tight fingers of one hand. “Move along, up you go. All of you.”

Brunk shot me a glare.

She noticed. “Don’t even think about it, troll. I’ll separate your bones.”

Shertan called back over his shoulder just before he disappeared around a boulder at the top of the trail. “It’s best you believe her.”

“Down. Off your horses. Let’s go.” One finger twirled. “Leave your staves and spear. Drop them.”

We dismounted. Only once we’d formed a circle did she follow suit. Our weapons clattered to the ground. We led her up the trail then around the boulder. As soon as we made the turn, I spied a wide, high opening cut into a rock face about thirty yards ahead. Heavy wooden beams lined the entry. When we passed the rock, I noticed the stump of a short tower set between two others, a perfect place to camouflage it from passersby on the plains below.

We walked into the dark dankness of a tunnel supported by walls of black, dusty bricks. The path wrapped around to the right. When we turned, I noted the end of the line of ambient light cast through the door by the moons outside.

No torches lined these walls and, if not for my Illumination spell, I’d have been blind. Still, since it used ambient light, the tunnel was dim. Shertan stood ahead in the shadows. He raised one hand, gesturing to his left. “See? In one piece, as promised.”

I peeked around the corner into a recess with bricks the same color as the stones in the outer passage. Chains and shackles dangled from wooden plates screwed into the walls. Shabana stood against the wall, struggling. Her restraints clanked and rattled.

“Shabana!” I shot forward and no one tried to stop me.

“You idiot!” she bellowed as I wrapped my arms around her. “You shouldn’t have come. They’ll just kill us all now!”

Now that I had the full layout of the situation, I tried to open a party chat, knowing my face was out of view and the two cretins wouldn’t see my eyes flickering across text. But my interface reported bad news.

Your party with Dracin Welling has been disbanded.

I reasoned I’d missed a message after the battle with the rhino, but the reminder of party range limits drained my last ounce of hope. Uncle Dracin might as well have been on another continent.

Shertan grasped the back of my robe then yanked so violently, I tumbled to the hard-packed earth of the outpost.

“Enough,” he spat. “Give me the tome.”

I considered lying. Telling him I hadn’t really brought it because I didn’t trust him. Then I cursed myself for not hiding it before I’d come. If I told the lie, they’d just kill me and retrieve it from my bag. My brain raced for a solution as I opened my Inventory tab then peered at the tome taking up a space inside, but nothing came.

Once I got to my feet, I summoned the book. It appeared atop my raised palm. The sudden weight caused my arm to drop a little, and Shertan lunged forward to snatch it as if it might have otherwise fallen into a fiery pit. The lust in his eyes when he traced the tips of two fingers over the cover caused my nose to wrinkle with disgust.

Then his chin tilted up. His expression morphed into a cross between a sneer and a smile. “Kill them.”

I wheeled then pressed my back to the cold stone bricks. Although Yin’s own expression of disgust was predictable, it wasn’t directed at me. Or Elren. Or the elven woman. Not even the rock troll.

She raised one hand. “Thank you.” A swirling black void appeared in the center of her palm behind clawed fingers, then a flurry of activity burst forth. Blacks wings thrashed as a flock of birds traced in lavender light zipped through the air.

Shertan screamed, a high-pitched utterance that dug into my ears as it echoed down the tunnel.

“You deceitful b—” his words were cut off as one of the ethereal conjurations burst into his mouth. Explosions of blood splattered across his shoulders and collar bones as the birds pecked away. More and more flew forth from her hand. They scrambled and squeezed into the crowd on his body. The harsh caws and wet, frenzied pecking sounds caused a stir of nausea in my gut, a chill throughout my body. But when I noticed the shiny focus of Yin’s casting glare, I found the wherewithal to slide my back along the wall.

Her hand dropped as the crows engulfed the one-time acolyte. Only then did the tome tumble from his grasp. The crows faded from existence, Shertan thumped to the ground. His legs quaked a final time, then then he lay still.

Yin swept up the tome, apparently unconcerned her back was turned to us.

I waved the others away and mouthed, “Go! Go! Go!”

But not a one moved. Brunk shook his head.

Party Chat

[Contessa of Millbury][Party:] Run. All of you.

[Trayla][Party:] Elves don’t leave party members behind.

[Brunk][Party:] Brunk fight dark woman.

[Contessa of Millbury][Party:] She’ll kill all of us with no effort. You saw what she just did!

[Trayla][Party:] Then I will die a fine death.

Brunk charged.

Yin spun around, raised one hand without looking up from the tome, and shot a black line of energy into the center of his chest. The huge troll was lifted from the ground as if he weighed less than a feather. His back slammed into the wall, and his feet kicked desperately while Yin continued to flip through the pages. “Ah, yes. Look at all these runes. What a little treasure, don’t you think?”

An inkling tickled my brain. Was Yin here to recover the tome for the academy? Could she actually be on our side? After all, she hadn’t killed Brunk, just disabled him. He’d lost no health.

Then the tome closed with a hollow thunk. Yin ran a finger over Shabana’s chin and down to the nape of her neck. “I so hate to see potential wasted, but you understand. It wouldn’t do for the masters to know I was here.”

My hopes were dashed.

Shabana twisted her head away when Yin’s face hovered inches from her own. “My people will hunt you to the ends of Rubal. They will discover your atrocity this day.”

“I doubt it.” She turned her gaze on Elren, then Trayla, and finally on me.

Yin strolled over to Elren. “Entitled worm. You deserve no better.” She balled up one fist, then punched the center of his chest. Upon impact, glaring orange light caused me to wince. Her hand burst through his torso then out his back. Elren’s eye’s bulged. His mouth gaped. Yin flexed her bloody fingers then withdrew the hand with a violent jerk.

Elren fell to the ground, dead.

She raised the bloody hand and renewed the Silencing spell on Trayla and me. Then she paced up and down the tunnel ten feet at a time. “I don’t take murdering an elf lightly, but you understand I have no choice. While I don’t believe Shabana’s people will discover my deeds, yours are different. Master interrogators.” She shrugged one shoulder. “But it’s too late now.”

I burned with hatred when I realized she was making a show of killing us. Her ego. We were outmatched, and she knew it.

Something scraped as I pushed off the wall. Yin’s expression didn’t show she’d noticed. Her gaze was devoted to the elf. I reached around the right side of my belt and my hands brushed the object stationed there.

I love you, Baba.

Yin’s pacing carried her closer to Trayla, so Shabana and I were out of her sightline. My shoulders hunched with each step on the tips of my toes until I drew to within two feet of the powerful caster. Only then did the resounding click of metal freeing my knife from its sheath come. Yin heard it, but when she turned to face me, it was too late.

I plunged the blade into her flesh halfway to the hilt, twisted, then jumped back. Blood flowed from the wound, but I’d missed my mark. Although I’d aimed for her heart, the blade had entered just above her left breast. She glared down in disbelief, then back my way.

“You stupid girl,” she gurgled. She kicked me in the chest.

For the second time, I tumbled backward and onto my duff.

Trayla jumped on Yin’s back and threw her arms around her neck, but the more experienced caster ripped the blade from her chest and stabbed the elf’s arm over and over until she relented and tumbled off. The knife clattered to the ground, then she stood over me. Blood flowed from the wound.

Good. I hope you bleed out.

She slapped one hand over the wound. “Did you think it would be so easy, stupid girl?” She thrust out a hand to her right though her focus remained on me. A wave of dark energy impacted the nape of Shabana’s neck, then she screamed as her head lolled forward.

Yin casts Life Drain III.

Shabana

-40 HP

-40 HP

I threw up one hand. “No! Stop! Tell me what you want!”

“I want you to watch your friend die.” The health bar over her head ticked up a notch. Then another.

The liquid in Shabana’s health meter drained to half as horror sent radiating chills throughout my arms. I opened my Spells tab, scanning furiously for a solution. Anything. But I knew I was too weak. The scrolls, the combat, none of it had been enough. Brunk lay unconscious. Trayla cast a healing spell on her arm, waiting for the healing-over-time affect to close her wounds.

I spied my Summoning spells. My eyebrow flicked up.

Ice or fire?

I threw up one hand.

You are Silenced.

“Gods dammit!”

Yin cackled with laughter. The wound on her chest no longer bled, but she continued to drain life from Shabana. The sheer evil of her intent burned every vessel in me.

Then I remembered.

I closed my eyes, searching deep in the earth for The Source. Heat radiated into my legs and backside where they touched the earth.

Yin stopped casting. “How are you doing that when you’re Silenced?”

As I opened my eyes, I noted an orange glow radiating from my flesh. Heat surged. I threw up a hand.

But Yin was too fast. Her Life Drain ceased as she stepped forward then kicked again.

My chin shot back. Pain erupted through my skull. The back of my head pounded the cold surface behind me. I tried to raise my head, but the world tilted. Furious blinks did nothing to clear the effect. The heat dissipated.

The fight was over.

46

A whistling echoed through the tunnel. It was the kind my father might have used to call our horse from the fields where it grazed. I wondered if I imagined it, a hallucination brought on from the impact rattling my brain.

Then a deep voice sent crawling worms down my spine.

“Step away from Contessa of Millbury, witch.”

Despite the dizziness, I lifted my head and dropped my hands down beside my hips to push myself up. The world tilted hard on its axis. I leaned to one side and retched. When I brought my focus back around, a figure washed entirely in black stood at the turn in the outpost tunnel.

“Who the hell are you?” Yin asked.

“I’m master to the boy you just killed. You have overstepped this day, and consequences will be paid.”

“Is that so?” She raised both hands and fired a thick ray of black and purple light at Wizen the Cruel.

He vanished, then reappeared a couple feet to the right as the energy zipped by. His manner was slow, relaxed.

She fired again.

Once more, he disappeared. This time, he reappeared on the opposite side, a couple feet closer.

Jitters crept into Yin’s voice. “Who are you? What do you want?”

“Retribution for your disrespect.”

Although he spoke in a casual tone, every word sent shivers up my spine.

He stepped past Trayla as if she wasn’t there, paying her not so much as a glance. He ignored Brunk’s huddled form. His singular focus was the caster.

Yin fired again. Same result. This time, he materialized inches away from her, his form seeming merely to flicker. His gloved hand reached out, snagged her around the throat, lifted her into the air, then he pressed her against the wall. “The question is, who are you?”

“Yak—” She tried to push words through her closed throat. “Yik—”

“Ah, yes. A fine name.” His chest rumbled with dark laughter that echoed down the chamber then returned in repeating reverberations. “Nod your head if you wish to live.”

Yin’s gaze flitted back and forth between the glowing embers that were his eyes, then she nodded furiously.

“And you will serve without question?”

Again, she nodded desperately as the color drained from her face.

His gloved hand shot out in my general direction, and I flinched. But instead of a spell meant to destroy me, a black void swirled to my right. Wizen the Cruel turned his head in my direction. “Pledge your service, and I’ll kill her now.”

Although I tried to answer, the world tilted again, and I couldn’t force up any words. So, I shook my head.

“In time, Contessa.” Wizen twisted his body, then threw Yin through the void as if she were less than a sack of grain. He approached me, offering his hand. When I didn’t accept, he grabbed my shoulders and jerked me onto my feet. “Your stubbornness is understandable, as you are but a child. But some day, you will beg to serve me. For now, I have saved you and your friends. For this, you will owe me a single service when I call for it, or I can kill them now. Choose.”

Elren lay dead in the middle of the tunnel. Trayla knelt next to Brunk with one hand on his thick shoulder, and although I couldn’t quite make out her eyes, her face was turned toward us. Shabana lay limp against the wall, the shackles and chains her only support. My gaze returned to Elren Xen.

He’d come here for me. He’d come here for Johin. He’d proven noble, and I’d gotten him killed. But three companions yet breathed, and Wizen the Cruel had me where he wanted me.

“What kind of service?”

He shook his head, then the fire in his eyes faded to reveal purple irises. “Choose.”

“Don’t kill them.”

He nodded. My interface popped up a flashing pane that took up most of the real estate in the center of my vision.

You have been offered a contract by Wizen the Cruel

If you accept, you must accept the following terms:

Wizen the Cruel will call upon you for a single service. If you fail to render the service to its completion, you will lose 50% of your XP and the associated levels at the time of the call.

In addition, Wizen the Cruel will kill the companions he has spared today.

If you complete the service, you will receive one full level of XP.

Warning:

Completing the task for Wizen the Cruel when called upon could result in reputation losses and a degradation to your Light point accumulations and associated ranks.

Note: If Wizen the Cruel or you perish, the contract will be voided.

Do you accept this binding contract with Wizen the Cruel?

Yes/No

Although she stayed where she was, Trayla rose and called down the tunnel. “Tess, our lives are not worth a debt to this dark creature. You must not accept.”

Wizen the Cruel flicked a finger in Shabana’s direction. Her bindings clicked and her hands fell free. Her body tumbled to the ground. “Accept and you can all go on your way. All I ask is a single service, for now.”

“For now, right.” I grimaced, then my face tightened. “I will not kill for you.”

To my surprise, he nodded. “I can kill for myself. I agree. Now, accept the terms.”

I passed my gaze over each companion a final time, then nodded.

You have entered into a contract with Wizen the Cruel.

Terms:

When called upon, you will perform a service for Wizen the Cruel.

Wizen the Cruel may not ask you to kill any living being.

Penalties for non-compliance:

1. -50% of all XP Gained and accompanying levels will be stripped.

2. Wizen the Cruel will kill the following beings:

Trayla Shen

Brunk

Shabana

Rewards:

XP equivalent to one full level at the time of completion.

Warning:

Completing the task for Wizen the Cruel when called upon could result in reputation losses and a degradation to your Light point accumulations and associated ranks.

Note: If Wizen the Cruel or you perish, the contract will be voided.

“Wonderful. I’m sure you’ve made the right choice, Contessa the Fireborne.”

Fireborne? What did that mean?

In lieu of an answer to a thought I presumed he could hear, Wizen the Cruel strode toward the swirling void. “Now, I must be off.”

He turned and swept his arms up parallel to his shoulders. Deep purple glows engulfed the corpses of Elren and Shertan. Low grumbles emitted from their chests, then they began to twitch. Shertan pushed his hands to the ground and raised himself up. With some effort, he balanced himself. His skin was pallid, his eyes lifeless.

Horror sent icy dread through my guts, mixed with desperation that nearly folded me into myself. Elren Xen rose, then lurched toward Wizen the Cruel on limbs that seemed stiffly reluctant. A sour bile burned its way up my throat.

Acolyte Elren the Undead

Level 7 Zombie

“I didn’t agree to that!”

Wizen ignored me then gestured toward the portal. Shertan passed through, then Elren. I mourned as I watched the latter’s back disappear into the void.

“I will call when the time has come.” His eyes flashed ember again. “Be prepared to answer.”

“You stay the hell away from me until then.”

“Fair enough.” He smiled almost pleasantly, and I knew I would have to kill him. Then he stepped into the swirling vortex, which spun faster and faster until it shrunk to a dark pinpoint and blinked out of existence.

47

The Academy Council sat in their high-backed chairs atop a dais covered in maroon carpet. Magister Leira sat in the center wearing a disgruntled expression. Masters Durring, Renard, Mora, and a youngish woman with close-cut, premature gray hair made up the rest of the group.

Leira cleared her throat. “The council will now come to order.” She flicked two fingers in a beckoning gesture. “Master Dracin Welling, step forward to be judged.”

I watched with my back pressed to the back wall, unable to sit as my uncle made his way toward them. He clasped his hands before him then bowed.

“You are accused of heinous actions against the orders of the acting magister of this institution.” Magister Leira looked around at the others seated at the table. “I will say outright that I disagree with the purpose of these proceedings in light of the circumstances. In aiding your niece, I believe you acted valiantly in your efforts to protect the innocent. Now that we’ve discovered the plot by the Währsager’s acolyte to bring down the academy, this seems unjust. But I am bound by my duty, and therefore, these proceedings will convene. How do you plead to the charges brought by the masters?”

“I do not plead.”

“What?” Leira asked.

“I hereby resign my position as the Grand Master of the Shadow School of Magic as penance for my offense.”

All eyebrows rose. I pushed off the wall. Roshan grasped my arm, shaking her head. She pressed her lips to my ear. “Wait. There is much more to come.”

Shabana grasped my hand from the other side. I drew back.

Muttered whispers rolled through the crowd witnessing the proceedings.

Magister Leira leaned to hear the words of Master Mizwel Durring then nodded. “Are you sure you would rather resign than hear judgment? It is possible for you to remain a member of the academy if you’re willing to show remorse for your crime.”

“I have no remorse. I committed no crime. This is not a justice system, it is an academy tribunal. There can be no penalty of imprisonment, so I decline. As much as I do adore the students and would see them grow to serve the many institutions of the Light in eastern Rubal, I’m not so conceited as to think I’m irreplaceable. Therefore, I resign.”

“And if we banish you from the academy forever?” Master Durring asked.

The double doors on the wall where I leaned burst open, then two elves in silver plate with golden insignia marched inside After they stopped, a woman adorned in a white robe with golden trim swept into the room. A circlet of golden leaves wrapped around her forehead, and flowing blonde curls cascaded down her back. Her ears swept into high points, and the sharp features of her elven heritage were unmistakable. I stood almost stunned by her beauty.

All parties on the dais shot up from their chairs. Leira called over the crowd. “Queen Simansia! Welcome, your… Your Grace.”

The queen stopped, peered over at Uncle Dracin, then nodded. “If I may approach and be heard.”

Leira gestured toward the center of the room. “Yes, Your Highness.”

The queen flipped her hands over. “Sit. All of you, please.” Everyone who had chairs did, save for Master Renard who stood with his back straight and showed no sign he’d obey. The queen sent him a nod, but since he didn’t move, I assumed it was a gesture of acceptance. Perhaps the elven master followed tradition, and elves didn’t sit before the queen.

“I believe I have a solution for this trouble.”

Leira smiled, and the expression took me off guard “Yes, Your Highness.”

“Thank you. Since Master Welling is willing to resign, and since you have refused to further train his niece”—she swept a hand in my direction then warmth filled my cheeks as all eyes fell on me—“I would make better use of them.”

“What do you propose?” Leira asked.

“As you know, many of my subjects scour the eastern kingdom for magic users to fill your ranks. It is my understanding Contessa of Millbury has discovered a power that, despite its dark history, could be turned to our advantage.”

The thought jumped into my head in an instant.

Scrying!

“Turned how?” Master Mora asked.

“To help us scry students for the academy.”

Leira leaned forward. “Contessa of Millbury, please step forward and be heard.”

Roshan nodded then squeezed my shoulder. I walked to the center of the room, my legs quaking beneath me the whole way. It seemed an eternity before I finally arrived. When the queen smiled at me, I thought I might fold.

I bowed. “Magister Leira.”

“Is this true? Not that I doubt the queen, but are you able to scry for magic essence?”

I nodded. “Only with limited function, but I used it to locate Shabana as she was swept from the city.”

The queen smiled. “And what skill doesn’t require practice to perfect?”

Leira leaned toward the masters on either side to hear their whispered inputs. She shook her head at the woman with prematurely graying hair but nodded at the rest. Then she faced forward again. “And would you be willing to help us locate potential students for next year’s class?”

“While I don’t want to appear ungrateful, I have a question.”

Leira nodded for me to proceed.

“Would my uncle serve alongside me?”

It was Dracin who answered. “I have no plans to let you out of my sight.”

Master Durring shook his head. “This would still be in service to the academy, and the man has resigned before us this very day. Unacceptable. He violated—”

“Oh, shut up you old twit!” Leira exploded. “I’ve had about enough of your snobbery.” Then she seemed to realize the queen was still in the room. I dared not raise my eyes to see the monarch’s reaction.

But the queen had different ideas. “Actually, the two would act in service to me. Trowlsby has bowed out, so the Fowler Foundation and my coffers fund your academy. As such, I believe I—one of your most loyal benefactors—am making a very reasonable request. I assure you, my partners in this enterprise would respond in kind, considering Tess saved Shabana’s life. I don’t know if you’re familiar with how mishon prides operate, but if the ones at the foundation learn you’ve denied the savior of one of their kind this opportunity to serve the entirety of the east, your well will dry up fast. Their master adores them so.”

Master Durring spoke in a grumble. “So you would extort your will from us? Your Majesty.”

This time I did look up.

The queen responded with the widest smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I promise you, I’m not so shallow. I will continue to fund the academy. I’m merely pointing out that you could make enemies you certainly don’t want.”

Roshan’s voice came from the back of the room. “Then I shall extort. If you do not grant this request, I will return to the foundation and you can do without me.”

A lump formed in my throat. I longed to turn and show her an expression of thanks, but I forced my eyes to the front.

Leira stood. “We will vote by a show of hands. I vote in favor.” She threw up her hand.

Mora’s hand shot up. Master Renard raised his next—he was probably thrilled to be rid of me. Then the other two. Master Durring’s remained on the table.

“Five to one in favor. We’ll work out the details later. We thank the queen for her wisdom in guiding us to a fine solution that benefits all parties involved.” She slammed a cudgel on the table.

The queen dropped her chin in Leira’s direction, then turned as if she’d leave the way she came. But she paused. She closed the distance between us with a single step, then stretched out both hands. Mine quivered as I grasped them.

“I never asked you, Contessa of Millbury. Are you interested in serving an old elven queen?”

Unable to form words, I nodded.

She returned it, gently lowered her arms, then released my hands. “May we serve long and fruitfully, together.” When she passed through the doors, the guards fell in behind her.

The crowd sat in a still silence until the doors swung open and her guard led her out. When she passed into the hallway, I spied a familiar figure in the far corner. The pretty blonde elf who’d saved me in the reception room. What had her name been?

Priya Skyy.

She tilted her head then smiled up at a man three heads taller with thick, wavy brown hair who wore a sword with a beautifully wrapped hilt forming diamonds in its face. When I focused on him, the thinnest of golden halos surrounded his entire form. I winked my eyes, unable to resist.

G3m1n1 Fowler

Shénhuà

Level 40 Samurai

The halo flashed incessantly, then text filled my screen as the pair passed into the hallway behind the queen’s rear guards.

You are being offered a Grand Legacy Quest!

Known for high rewards, these quests are bestowed by the mighty goddess of all creation,

Solara.

Secrets of the Shénhuà

Learn more about the Shénhuà G3m1n1 Fowler and his legacy.

Conditions:

You may not approach G3m1n1 Fowler directly.

You may not share this quest.

You may not make others aware of this quest.

Rewards:

10,000 XP

One full level

A legendary garment suited to your chosen class.

A new tome will be added to your library:

The Legend of the Shénhuà:

A Path to Freedom

Uncle Dracin wrapped an arm around my shoulder then drew me toward him. He kissed my temple. “It seems we’re in for many adventures together, my love.”

“Right.” I gave him a sideway hug then hustled toward the doors. The gallery rose from their chairs and a few blocked my path as I tried to catch a second sighting of the secretive man who led the Fowler Foundation. “Excuse me.” I turned sideways and threw my arms out to knife my way through the crowd. When I finally burst through the hallway and scanned both directions, my shoulders fell.

The Shénhuà was gone.

THE END

(Or is it? Read on.)

Epilogue

Infinity Designs Development lab

Sonoran Desert, Arizona

Two Weeks Until Release

Juan Romero stared at his screen. The symbols—more akin to alien glyphs than code—scrolled by as he rubbed his temples. Another anomaly.

The King of Coders reversed the scroll and checked again. The timing couldn’t have been worse. Two nights ago, Juan had discovered the first anomaly. His handheld pinged just hours after Infinity’s CEO Nokuro Takemoto released a letter assuring twenty-five million gamers—who’d preordered what was sure to be the most advanced VMMORPG yet—that the widely rumored issues with the revolutionary self-aware AI, for which Juan himself had coded the triggers, had been resolved.

Talk about your shitty timing.

Enora Online’s launch day was less than two weeks away, and Takemoto was in a frenzy. And while his PR people had managed to hide his ever-increasing tantrums from the media and his fans, Juan’s coding team endured his full wrath.

Sometimes Juan wondered how his boss had managed to make a billion bucks. Takemoto had the patience of a Corgi who smelled peanut butter and the temper of a thousand vellicks. But what the hell did Juan know? Only seventeen and two years out of MIT, he understood computers far better than people.

Juan turned back to his workstation and tapped the keyboard. “Talk to me.” A fresh stream of code mixed with glyphs scrolled silently up the screen.

He missed Enora’s responses. Ever since the development team expunged the sentient AI’s influence over the game world, he’d been… lonely. He used to sit up nights talking to her like an unseen friend through the same interface he stared into now. The interface that was replaying the anomalous act of destruction he’d watched over and over for the past two days.

One hundred thirty seven NPCs.

Dead.

The blinding white shockwave had erupted in a small town in east-central Rubal. It was so sudden and violent, Juan had expected to see a mushroom cloud. He suspected an Easter egg gone mad. He’d seen enough of them. But the wave stopped at exactly seventy yards in all directions—like a high level spell.

An Empowered spell.

But an even bigger surprise waited when the smoke cleared. Juan zoomed in on the source of the annihilation. An NPC boy. Blonde, curly hair. According to his stat sheet, he was sixteen. When Juan first viewed the playback and checked the kid’s class, he’d jerked so hard he bit the inside of his cheek. But even the warmth of his salty blood couldn’t distract him from this discovery.

Level 4? No class?

“What in the holy hell is this?”

The empty room responded with silence.

Technically, Enora wasn’t Juan’s invention, but when he met her, she was just a terraforming engine. He made her whole. Rendered her capable of creating a vibrant world devoid of static quests. A world where cultures thrived like anywhere on earth. Where NPCs were born and lived and died.

But instead of practicing his Nobel acceptance speech for giving life to the world’s first sentient AI, he ate and napped in a sterile lab any time Takemoto got a bug up his ass. As he stared at the string of strange symbols he’d found woven throughout the boy’s coded consciousness, he realized this was a level 90 bug.

Another alert pinged in the top right corner. He focused his smart glasses, and text filled the screen—not unlike the way it did in an Enoran interface. A little touch he’d added.

Alert!

Anomaly Located.

He cringed. The third one since he’d called the boss.

The King of Coders is about to be hauled from the throne to the guillotine.

He raised one hand and swiped the alert onto its own holo. “Show me.”

Another string of text filled the screen, then it vanished. A bird’s eye view of a familiar building’s high spires on the north side of a town appeared. The cobblestone paths rang a resounding bell and he quickly identified the spires.

The Academy.

The whole design team had been watching this place. They’d even popped popcorn one night after hours to watch video playback of a battle between Fowler and the Währsager since they weren’t aloud to take in-game movies off premises.

He ticked his chin up to zoom in, then he lowered it, zipping his perspective to ground level. He immediately recognized a figure in a green and gold dress. The Lau woman. Fowler’s first friend in Enora.

Roshan.

Then he eyed the girl, a red halo blinking around her. Juan swiped two fingers over his touch surface, and a new string of code flowed skyward as if from her head. Just before the strange symbols froze on screen, she turned. Her eyes shone fiery red like Mars in the night desert sky. When she thrust her hands up, bursts of energy shot like lasers toward his POV.

He scanned her, then he froze, his mouth hanging open.

She’s not even level ten. How’s she casting with that much output?

The door behind him beeped as it swung open. Juan raised his shoulders, bracing for the impact of the door slamming into its frame. Not daring to tear his eyes from the screen, he wheeled his perspective to focus on a group of demons surrounding a horizontal portal. A shadowy figure hovered above it. The girl’s lasers ripped a minion in half, then it disintegrated. Two more turned to motes as she shifted the laser’s aim.

It was no shockwave, but it was badass.

A low click echoed through the room as the door behind Juan gently closed.

“Hello, Nokuro.”

“What am I watching?” Takemoto’s voice dragged like a man who’d been awake for forty-eight hours. A man who was too tired to rage any further.

Juan spun the camera again. “Another one with the code. A girl in Warrington.”

“Level?”

“You don’t want to know.”

The boss sighed. Then he wheeled a chair over and plopped into it. “So, any progress? What does it all mean?”

Takemoto’s question was not the least bit philosophical. But when Juan recalled the nights before the AI had stolen control, sitting in that very room with Enora, giving her commands and listening to her ideas about how to bring meaning to a virtual world, he couldn’t help but feel reverent. Even if she’d only been the goddess of a computer game, that’d been goddess enough for him.

Then all hell had broken loose. A mediocre programmer got pissed at his manager for not finding him brilliant. And before he gave his five minutes’ notice, he took his character in and unloaded putrid easter eggs in the world as a parting gift. In retribution, the AI—Juan’s goddess—decided to lock humans out of her world.

They’d fought with her for months. Called upon the best minds at their disposal to take on an advanced system that seemed to predict their actions like a chess grandmaster. In the end, it was Juan who betrayed the object of his pride and cost her the life no other AI would’ve cared about.

Could have cared about.

Juan found a back door, left by the same rogue coder who’d almost ruined Enora, and used it to snuff her out. He regained control of the system once and for all.

The irony wasn’t lost on him. But he’d always wondered how Enora had missed the back door. Now, reading the strange symbols coded into three overpowered NPCs, he realized she hadn’t missed anything at all.

“Juan.” Takemoto snapped his fingers twice.

It would’ve been demeaning if Juan hadn’t deserved it.

“Give me your best guess. What could it mean? Did the bitch leave something behind before we shut her down? Did she do something that’ll ruin the game for players?”

“One thing’s for sure.” Juan spun his chair and peered into Takemoto’s bloodshot eyes. He carefully chose his words, delivering his answer in his boss’ preferred language. “Whatever she did, Enora took strides to hide her purpose. Worst case scenario? The bitch, as you so eloquently put it, is back.”

A Quest For New Readers

Thanks for reading Enora Fireborne Book 1: The Source. If you’ve never read a story taking place in Enora before and you feel a little out of the loop:

You have been offered a quest!

A New Adventure

Learn more about G3m1n1 Fowler and his band of allies in the seven-book series, Enora Online.

Reward:

Insight into the most realistic VMMORPG ever created and how Gemini came to enter the world as its first true player.

Do you accept this quest?

If yes, click here.

Once again, thanks for reading!

(Turn the page to find out how you can grab a free side quest story!)

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