The Black Mage: Apprentice (5 page)

"Of course." Darren's face had returned to a
blank slate. With one last glance in my direction me he said, "Ask
your brother about arnica."

****

Alex was peeling a mango when we found him in
the commons. He seemed surprised to see all of us, especially Ella
– but he recovered quickly.

"Arnica, huh?"

"Do you know what it is?" I pressed.

"Of course." His eyes met mine in mild
amusement. "I'm just surprised Darren even knew to suggest it. It's
not a common ingredient."

Ian turned to my twin. "Well? Can you get
it?"

"I can... But I'll need help…" Alex's gaze
fell to Ella standing next to us. He swallowed. "The healers keep
all their supplies locked away in the main wing. I will need you to
distract them while I get the salve. Now would be our best chance,
while Master Joan is at dinner."

Ella did not look at my brother as she said,
"Then let's go." She turned to Loren apologetically: "You don't
have to come if you don't want to."

Loren shook his head, eyes dancing. "And miss
the fun?"

A flash of irritation flared in my twin's
eyes, but he said nothing.

The five of us began the walk to the
infirmary. Ella, Ian, and Loren spent most of the time in animated
conversation – my brother and I in awkward silence. Alex kept
stealing jealous glances at Ella and Loren in the back of our group
and I had to kick him to finally get him to quit.

"Ouch!"

"Stop glaring at Loren!" I scolded.

"I wasn't."

"You were."

My brother frowned. "Are things serious
between those two?"

"They aren't courting if that's your
question," I replied tersely.

"Yet," Alex grumbled. Sliding in closer to me
he said in a hushed voice. "You have to get us alone, Ry. Tell Ella
to go with me when I get the arnica."

"Why should I?" The last time the two had
been in the same room together was when Ella had walked in on him
kissing a Restoration apprentice. That had been a month ago when
they'd still been courting. My friend had told me all about it
afterwards, sobbing in the barracks and swearing she would never
talk to my twin again. She had kept her word and I never urged her
to try.

It wasn't the first time my brother had done
this. In Demsh'aa there was a mile long list of the hearts he had
broken in his wake. The difference was that this time my brother
seemed to regret it. In fact, he had even broken down and cried
after a couple of days of silence, begging me to talk to her.

"I need to explain what happened," Alex
continued. "
Please Ry
."

His blue eyes bore into mine desperately. I
felt a wave of empathy and cursed my twin for his uncanny ability
to elicit sympathy. No one could look into those pitiful blue eyes
and say no.

"Fine." I gave my brother my most cross
expression. "But if you make her cry I will
never
help you
again, Alex. Ever."

Alex's face lit up so much so I cringed.
"Thank you, Ry!" He reached out to hug me and I jumped out of his
way. He chuckled as he realized his mistake. "Forgot about that
arm," he admitted.

Ten minutes later we arrived at the
infirmary. I found Ella as we entered the building, nodding to the
guards as we passed. The soldiers grinned and Ian snickered.

"I think you've got admirers, ladies."

I rolled my eyes and nudged Ella forward. "I
think you should go with Alex. He might need back-up and I can't go
since we are going to need my injury to distract them."

Ella was immediately uncomfortable. "Does it
have to be me – what about Ian? Or Loren?"

"Just talk to him." She trusted me. I hoped I
would not regret asking.

Ella fixed me with a tired expression. "I am
doing this for
you
, Ryiah – not him."

"Thank you."

We found the left corridor. Loren, Alex, and
I immediately crowded the desk. The three of us began chattering
loudly about my arm while Alex and Ella snuck past the attendants
into the supply room. I kept my eyes open for any passing healers
while Ian and Loren continued to talk. Five minutes passed and then
they emerged, proudly concealing a small jar in Alex's fist. The
two of them looked happier. I wondered if things were resolved.

Ella's eyes caught mine and she gave a timid
smile. I started to return it – and then my face fell as a young
woman in red mage's robes blocked their escape, fixing the two with
a steely-eyed frown.

"Apprentice Alex, just what do you think you
are doing? Do you have an authorization for that?" The jar and
their guilty expressions hadn't escaped her notice.

The mages behind us were too busy with Ian
and Loren to hear.

Alex gave the healer his most easy-going
smile. "Kyra, my poor sister over there is in pain."

The mage's eyes flickered to me and her
expression didn't change.

Alex sidled over to the young woman,
unperturbed. He leaned in conspiratorially and stage-whispered.
"Please, Kyra, you wouldn't want Ryiah to suffer, would you? Master
Byron's rules are just silly… what is the harm in a little
relief?"

I watched as the healer's face waivered from
resolve to doubt.

"Wow." My brother breathed loudly. "I just
realized your eyes are green. I knew you were beautiful but I – I-"
He pretended to stutter, flustered by her attention.

Kyra's cheeks turned pink. "Stop that." But I
noticed she said it a lot more gently.

"Please, Kyra?" My brother gave his most
innocent smile.

She sighed. "Fine, Alex, but just this
once."

"You are as kind as you are stunning." Alex
caught her hand and kissed it lightly, winking.

The Restoration mage watched him, pleased.
"You should join the healers for a drink one night," she said
abruptly. "We go to the Crow's Nest every Sunday - perhaps I will
see you there next time?"

My twin grinned. "I wouldn't miss it."

As soon as the young woman had vanished Ella
snatched the vial from Alex and turned to me, eyes flashing. "Let's
get out of here, Ryiah." It didn't take much to ascertain why her
mood had suddenly changed.

"Ella wait, it wasn't what you - I was
helping!"

"I don't want to hear it, Alex."

"Ella, I meant what I said back there-"

"The only person you love is yourself!" Ella
cut my brother off coldly. "You just can't help yourself. It's not
your fault – when this girl kisses you or that girl misinterprets
your gestures you are blameless. Well, I'm
not
going to wait
for it to happen again.
We are done
." She grabbed my good
arm and dragged me out of the building, not waiting to see if the
rest of our group followed.

I didn't protest. As soon as we were outside
the infirmary I apologized profusely.

Ella shook her head.

"Don't hold yourself responsible, Ry. You
aren't accountable for your twin's actions. You warned me that
first day at the Academy. I… I just have this bad habit of falling
for the wrong ones."

Thinking about Darren earlier – and my
reaction to his hand on my wrist, I said sadly, "I think we have
that in common."

****

After a short dinner we were once again on
the practice field for our final lesson of the day. We were
separated into two groups: those who could cast using pain, and
those that couldn't. Ian, Darren, Eve, Lynn and I stayed behind
with a small collection of older apprentices. Ella, Ray, Priscilla,
Loren and the rest of the class retired to the far side of the
grounds to continue the target casting from earlier.

Now more than ever, I was grateful for the
arnica. I was finding it much easier to control my castings when
the pain in my arm was not fighting my magic.

"No, no!
Slowly
, Ian!" Master Byron's
command echoed across the cold night air. "If you keep that up you
are not going to be able to control it."

"
Again
." Darren's voice was thick with
sarcasm. The two of them had been trading barbs for the past hour –
mostly because Ian kept losing control of his castings. We were
supposed to levitate our partners – only Ian hadn't quite mastered
the correct pressure to use. Darren had been dropped and tossed
backward more times than any of the others, and he appeared to be
growing less and less patient.

I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. Ian
was miserable at pain castings – and Darren was amazing, second
only to two of the fifth-years that were with us.

"Mentees, you are up."

Lynn slowly withdrew the blade from her hand,
letting me drift gently to the floor. To my left I heard a loud
thump and Darren's subsequent curse.

"Master Bryon, I need to change partners for
this exercise. This is ridiculous."

All heads turned to Ian and Darren: the
former looked sheepish and the latter, furious.

"Fine. Darren, Ryiah, change mentors."

As I passed the non-heir by I glared at him
for making me take Ian. The last thing I needed was to be dropped
repeatedly on a bad arm. "I have a fracture."

"Good thing you have the arnica."

Some "friend."
I sat down cross-legged
in front of Ian, returning to the start position as I reached for
Darren's knife. At least it was my turn.

"All right, mentees, this time in your
castings I want you to focus on time. Try to hold your partner in
the air for as long as you can. Once you feel comfortable, try
alternating the pressure and keeping the same five feet level.
Being able to maintain a stable pain casting – no matter the
pressure - will help train your magic should you be caught off
guard with an unexpected injury." The man paused, his ice blue eyes
locking onto me. "Some of you could certainly use the
practice."

Ignoring the disparaging comment, I set to
work in my casting. I would gladly practice Byron's drills all
night, if only so he could see me try. Not that the man would ever
acknowledge I was. Trying, that is.

"If you drop me I won't hold it against
you."

I tried to smile at Ian but it did little to
mask the anxiety in my throat.
Concentrate Ryiah
. I gently
dug the blade into my right palm, refusing to flinch as the sudden
pain released my magic. Ian was instantly hovering in the air.

I let him float for a minute more before I
decided to test the pressure, alternating between light spurts of
pain. Ian remained level. I took turns nicking my fingers and
sliced deeper into my palm, trembling as my casting fought to
increase and dissipate in union with the hurt. I willed it to hold
and braced myself as magic and pain continued to surge through me,
struggling to break free.

My eyes watered and burned but I ignored
them. Ever since the incident during my first-year trials pain had
made my magic unstable. Which meant the past three months were a
nightmare to train in. Every little injury opened a floodgate of
pain magic – and if it was bad enough, like in the case of my
fractured arm earlier, I wasn't always able to hold it back.

Ella suspected a barrier had broke – the one
that usually kept my pain magic at bay. During the trials I had
attempted a pain casting, spearing myself with a sword and sending
an entire building crumbling in its wake. The act had been rash,
and it only made sense that so much magic and a near-death
experience would leave a large crack in my defense. Normally people
built up to that level of casting, slowly, with incremental levels
of pain – not the other way around. Master Byron had implied as
much when I had first come to him with the question.

"Practice. It is the only way you are going
to exert any control over your pain castings. We avoid teaching it
to the first-years for a reason, apprentice. Now because of your
ill-chosen act you will be battling powers much stronger than a
second-year should deal with."

It was the reason the masters saved the
method for apprenticeship.

"A mage is always fighting against pain
castings during injury – usually they spend years working up to the
magic you will be fighting now. You broke a barrier that requires a
control you do not – and will not - have for many years."

I had been crestfallen and angry when I'd
first heard the master's diagnosis. But Darren, in a random moment
of kindness, had pointed out something I'd missed. Yes, I would be
forced to battle stronger forces than everyone else who had pain
magic, but I would also be competent faster as a result. "I did
something similar to you two years before I joined the Academy,"
he'd confessed. "I still fight pain magic when I get hurt, but if
you were to watch me pain cast now you would see I have a lot more
control than the others." And he'd been right.

Blinking, I realized that Darren and I were
the only ones still casting. The other two mentees – two
fourth-years had already quit. Moment later my own palms trembled
and I knew it was time to end.

I lowered Ian to the ground, releasing the
pressure of the knife.

Two minutes later the non-heir followed
suit.

"Well done, Darren. Ryiah that was…
acceptable." The master seemed to be pulling the words from his
teeth.

The mentors took over casting. I braced
myself for Ian's inevitable misstep but nothing bad happened. The
third-year seemed to be concentrating extra hard: I was not thrown
once during his attempt.

After a couple of minutes Ian returned me to
the ground, finishing before the other mentors.

I smiled at him, grateful he had managed to
avoid dropping me and jostling my bad arm. "You did it, Ian!"

He winked. "It would seem I just needed the
right motivation."

My heart skipped a beat.
Don't be a fool –
he doesn't mean anything by it.

Darren, still levitating nearby, snorted.
Lynn lowered the prince and fixed her gaze on Ian. "Very
impressive, Ian. I am so happy Master Byron's lessons are coming
along."