To Kill a Wizard: Rose's Story (The Protectors of Tarak Book 1) (24 page)

I spent three long weeks in The Glass Castle searching for Asher, with no luck, and training until I was too exhausted to move. At first I felt as if I was being tortured or tested, but as my strength and abilities grew, I accepted reality. In being trained by these powerful women, I’d been given a precious gift.

Yet, no matter how exhausted I was, Asher’s face still haunted me, keeping me awake at night.

If I closed my eyes, I could see the sharp angles of his strong jaw line, and the memory of his crooked smile, so out of place on a face that seemed unaccustomed to happiness. His blond hair, shooting out at the top of his head, and smooth on the sides, would’ve been laughable on anyone else. But on him, it was as distinctive and fitting as his earthy scent.

But there was more. Sometimes in the silence of night, I thought I heard his heartbeat, or the sound of his breathing. I sensed him in a way I’d never sensed another human being before. I even thought I could feel his loneliness… his regrets.

Those times left tears gathering in my eyes. It was as if he was with me, if only for a few seconds, then gone again just as fast.

So that morning, I awoke early to bathe, in my usual misery. As always, more tired than when I’d first laid down. But no matter how hard I washed, I couldn’t free myself of the guilt that clung relentlessly to me, weighing down my every step.

Asher had been captured because of me. It was my responsibility to get him free. Even if he was a wizard.

And Sirena’s barrette still rested in my hair, a constant reminder, if I needed one, that her life rested in my hands. Goddesses, I hoped that Sirena had been right when she thought it would bring us good luck, because so far it had done quite the opposite.

When I ascended the stairs and reached the practice room, I was in no mood to fight off either Clarissa or Meisha. But luckily, the room was empty. Already winded from the climb, I leaned against the wall at the top of the stairs, more tired mentally than physically.

I knew it was my thoughts of Asher and Sirena draining my energy. For even though being a farmer had made me strong, it hadn’t given me the kind of strength I’d developed these past weeks. To endure. To push past exhaustion. To ignore pain. These were things Meisha and Clarissa taught me… and far more than I ever expected about life.

The sun light shining off the many mirrors stung my eyes, and I closed them against the brightness. Even though my body held a strange kind of power now, both physical and magically, my aching head reminded me that I still had weaknesses.

“You’re here early.”

I whirled to find Blair on the stairs below me.

Moving further into the room, and out of her way, I pressed my back against the wall, my mind whirling. Usually Blair sent a missive on the days she could instruct me in magic. Her time, she explained, was very valuable. So what could’ve brought her here today?

She walked to the window, wearing a gray dress the same smoky shade as her eyes. Her porcelain skin looked almost translucent as it peeked out from the sweeping neckline and long, fluid sleeves. Her loose hair spilled down her back like a curtain, giving femininity to the woman who held herself like a warrior.

“Clarissa and Meisha tell me your training is going well.”

I shrugged, even though she wasn’t looking at me. “They’ve tried their hardest, but I’m still no great warrior.”

And it was true. Meisha fought me in both animal and human form, teaching me a style of fighting that was almost a dance. Clarissa, on the other hand, taught me to use weapons, and to combat nearly any kind of attack. Even though her methods bordered on cruelty, I no longer thought she did it out of anger. It was simply her way of giving me the best shot at survival. But even with all their hard work, I still left practices battered and bruised each day.

“It’s not important that you’re a great warrior. It’s just important you learn.” She turned, piercing me with her stare. “Some of us have powers that lend themselves towards fighting, others do not.”

I agreed with her, but I was also very thankful for Clarissa’s and Meisha’s training. Learning how to use a dagger, a sword, and my own body to fight was just as useful as learning my magic. Maybe more so.

“There isn’t much time left.” Blair looked me up and down, frowning. “What names have you learned so far?”

I nibbled my bottom lip. The way she asked the question… she was evaluating me, and I didn’t like it.

“Artemay, the Goddess of Protection,” I began, counting her name on my finger.

“Yes, but you knew that one already,” Blair interrupted.

“Demetria, the Goddess of the Harvest.” I raised another finger, smiling. It’d been satisfying to bring green, crisp leaves to all the trees surrounding the castle. Even though it hadn’t lasted long.

“And,” Blair prodded, annoyance lacing the word.

I shot her a look. Why make me name them, if she felt it wasted her time?

“Promethia, the Goddess of Fire and Blacksmiths.” I counted this name too, even as Blair interrupted me.

“You knew that one already too.”

I glared. “Should I stop?”

She waved her hand. “No, no, go on then.” But, she’d begun hurriedly pacing along the floor.

“Nyxus, the Goddess of Night.” I counted another one. “Chrona, the Goddess of Time.” Slowing down time had been fun. But when it’d sped up to get back to the right time, my stomach had twisted so terribly, I’d emptied my lunch on the training room floor.

Every name had consequences.

I swallowed hard and raised another finger. “Nyxus’s sister, the Goddess of Shadows.” Wrapping myself in a cloak of shadows had been exciting, but learning to see through the shadows had been difficult to master, and very draining.

“Aetnai, Goddess of Volcanoes,” I counted, “and Athenia, Goddess of War.” Both names still sent chills running down my spine. Blair had helped me to control them, but otherwise… well, I never wanted to use either name again.

“Anaka, Goddess of Necessity.” The name hadn’t done much, but Blair had assured me if I was ever in desperate need, the names would come in very handy.

“And,” Blair said, stopping her pacing to cast me a hurried glance.

I hesitated for a moment, “Arodite, Goddess of Love.” Another name I didn’t like. The name’s affects were only temporary, but the thought that I could make two people love each other, if only for a few hours, seemed both unnecessary and wrong.

“And how many is that?” Blair asked, still pacing.

“Eleven.” I took a deep breath. “I’ve learned all the most powerful names, but not the names I think would be most helpful.”

She stopped her pacing, her back to me.

I pressed on. “Zeuita is the Goddess of all Goddess, the Goddess of the Living. She should be the most important name to know.” I paused. “And Hadia is the Goddess of the Dead. Her name should be really useful in the war.” I paused again, but she neither turned nor responded. “And Perseia, the Goddess of Destruction. I’m sure using her name has terrible consequences, but I should probably know it.”

Blair turned toward me. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, but instead of looking angry, she looked small and vulnerable. “I won’t teach you The Goddess of Destruction’s name. If you ever learn it, it’ll be because you had no other choice.” She stared at the ground. “And I’m not allowed to use Zeuita and Hadia’s names, so you’ll have to learn them with someone else, another time.”

The pain in her words caught me off-guard. “Not allowed?”

“I won’t discuss it,” she said, curtly. “Besides, we have more important things to worry about.”

“Like what?” I asked, confused by her reluctance.

Straightening, she dropped her arms and gazed at me, all traces of pain gone. “In the last three weeks, you’ve learned that your powers are both a blessing and a curse. Sometimes unexpected things happen when you call upon the goddesses, sometimes things that can get others, or yourself, injured or killed.” She took a deep breath, running her hands over the front of her dress, as if to compose herself. “And you’ve learned that some names can leave you feeling as weak as a baby… something that could cost you your life on the battlefield.”

“Yes.” I could tell she had something to say, so why was she hesitating?

“Do you have any other questions?”

I thought for a moment. Of course I had lots of questions, but most of them she wouldn’t answer.

But maybe she would, if I worked my way up to them. “I was just wondering why all of our powers are so different.”

“It’s our bloodlines. Which goddesses gave our ancestors their gifts.”

I frowned. “And which ones gave us our gifts?”

“Zeuita, of course, The Goddess of all Goddesses.”

Taking a deep breath, I finally asked one of the questions that’s been plaguing me. “So why don’t we ask her for help against the Undead wizards?”

Her lips pulled into a grim line. “Don’t you think I have?”

Of all her answers, this was the one I expected the least. “Did she hear your prayers? Or ignore them?”

Blair turned back to the open window, then spoke, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “Hadia is her sister. She will not go against her.”

“Then, why do we keep fighting if we can’t win?”

“Because we can’t afford to lose.”

Silence swallowed the room.

After several long minutes, she spoke again. “I’ve come to teach you a new name. It is the name of the Goddess of the Lost, Antona. You heard me speak it before, but you were not concentrating on the way it must be spoken then.”

She was right. Guilt and fear had torn at me the day she’d shown me the consequences of my actions. It was impossible to forget all the lives that’d been lost during the battle with the wizards. Because of me alone.

I turned to look at the wall of mirrors, at my own reflection. The hopelessness in my face jolted something inside of me. So many things were out of my control, but not this. I could learn, until I discovered something to at least help me with Asher and Sirena, if not all of Tarak.

“Ready?”

Looking back at her, I nodded.

She spoke the name. It caressed down my spine and sank through my pores, searching inside me for something that could never be found. Goosebumps erupted across my flesh, and I clutched my arms. Listening as Blair cried the name, like a terrified child crying for their mom. But it was as if a non-existent wind snatched the name, tossing it cruelly around.

“Did you learn it?”

I opened my eyes, just realizing I’d closed them. “I think so.”

“Then, I want you to find the blue sapphire I hid in this room earlier. It is flawless. The size of my thumb, and will be set into a ring one day.”

Picturing the stone, I cleared my throat. “Antona, Antona…” Testing out her name, I weighed it on my tongue, feeling the wrongness of it. Releasing my arms, I walked across the hardwood floors, listening to the sound of my feet stomping across the floor. How had Blair moved so soundlessly? “Antona, Antona,” goosebumps erupted across my skin, “
Antona
.”

Warmth spread from me. When I walked, my feet moved as if controlled by someone else, leading me with sure steps to the opposite side of the room. I reached one of the weapon racks, then knelt down and searched.

No sapphire.

Just as my frustration mounted, and I’d thought the spell had lead me wrong, I turned a small shield over to find the sparkle of the sapphire on the ground beneath it.

“Here it is.”

She was by my side in an instant, picking it up. “Very good.”

I stood, feeling proud. I knew this goddess’s name. Next time, it would be far easier to use.

Grinning, I spoke without thinking. “I like this one. It’s good to know I’ll never lose anything again.”

Blair frowned, missing my joking tone. “As with all our spells, this one has its limitations. If you tried to find an item in the woods far from here, you’d have no more than a tingling of the right direction. If you tried to find something in the closest city to us, chances are you would feel nothing at all.”

“Like how I can’t start a forest fire in the capital city.”

She nodded. “No, not unless you were standing just outside of it.”

I stretched, trying to work out the kinks in my muscles. This spell hadn’t been hard. Some of them left me with the kind of exhaustion that made it hard to get down the stairs. With this one, I felt little more than a familiar tension in my muscles.

“Your training has progressed well.” Blair tucked the sapphire into a pouch she pulled out of the folds of fabric around her thin, silver belt. The movement tugged at her sleeve, revealing her own Protectors’ mark burned into her wrist. “In times of peace, you’d be trained for many months, if not a full year. But these are not peaceful times.”

My stomach clenched. “What does that mean?”

Blair sighed. “Soon you will have to take on the role of Protector… it will no longer be in name only.”

“I’m not doing a Choosing, if that’s what you are saying,”