Study Collection: Magic Study / Poison Study / Fire Study. Maria V. Snyder
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I see it, you’re already good at running and hiding. It took you a week to get up the nerve to talk to Maren. And if it was up to you, she’d still be calling you Puker. You need to learn to stand and fight for what you want.” Ari fidgeted with the wooden knife, spinning it around his hand.
“You hover on the edges, ready to take off if something goes wrong. But when you can knock the bow from Janco’s hands, and sweep my feet out from under me, you’ll be empowered.” He paused, and then said, “If you feel you need to spend your time on something else, then do it…in addition to your training. Then the next time someone calls you Puker, you’ll have the confidence to tell her to go to hell.”
I was amazed at Ari’s assessment of me. I couldn’t even say if I agreed or disagreed with him, but I did know he was right about my compulsion to do something else. He didn’t know what it was, but I did: find the antidote to Butterfly’s Dust.
“Is that your idea of encouragement?” I asked in a shaky voice.
“Yes. Now quit looking for an excuse to stop training, and trust me. What else do you need?”
The quiet intensity of Ari’s voice caused a chill to ripple up my spine. Did he know what I was planning, or was he guessing? My intentions had always been to get the antidote and run to Sitia. Run away, run away, run away. Ari had been right about that. But running south would require me to be in top physical condition, and to have the ability to defend myself from guards. However, I had been evading one important detail: Valek.
He would follow me to Sitia, and crossing the border wouldn’t make me safe from him. Even Irys’s magic couldn’t protect me. He would consider my recapture or my death a personal responsibility. And that was what I’d been so afraid to face. What I’d been dancing around. I’d been concentrating on training so I wouldn’t have to deal with the dilemma I feared I wasn’t smart enough to solve. I had to enhance my strategy, to include not only obtaining the antidote, but dealing with Valek without killing him. I doubted Ari had the solution.
“You might beat Valek with these blows.” Janco puffed while blocking Maren’s bow. “He’ll laugh himself silly at how pathetically weak they are, giving you the perfect opening.”
Maren remained silent, but increased the pace of her attack. Janco backed off.
Janco’s words stirred in my mind. An odd little long-shot plan began to take shape. “Ari, can you teach me how to pick locks?”
He considered my words in silence. Finally, he said, “Janco could.”
“Janco?”
Ari smiled. “He seems harmless and happy-go-lucky, but as a boy he got into all kinds of mischief until he was trapped in a tight spot. Then he was given the choice of either joining the military or going to jail. Now he’s a Captain. His biggest advantage is that no one thinks he is serious, and that’s exactly what he wants.”
“I’ll try and remember that the next time he’s cracking jokes and my ribs.” I watched Maren beat Janco a second time.
“Best three out of five, my lady can not deny,” Janco called tirelessly.
Maren shrugged. “If your ego can handle it,” she replied, swiping at his feet with her bow. He jumped, avoiding her attack with an athletic grace, and lunged. The rhythmic crack of wood striking wood filled our practice room.
Ari stood, assumed a defensive stance, and somehow I found the energy to face him.
After the workout, the four of us were resting on the bench when Valek arrived. Maren shot to her feet, as if she thought being found sitting idle was a crime, but the rest of us kept our relaxed positions. I found it fascinating to watch the small changes in Maren’s behavior whenever Valek was around. Her rough edge softened, she smiled more and tried to engage him in conversation or a match. Most of the time he would review fighting tactics with her, or conduct a practice, and she would preen like an alley cat attracting the biggest tom. But this time he wanted to talk to me. Alone. The others left the room. Maren shot me a dark look with the force of one of her bow strikes. I would pay for this tomorrow, I thought.
Valek paced. With an uneasy feeling, I hoped that he wasn’t searching for a rock to throw.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him. “Is it about tonight?” Excitement over exposing Margg soured to nervousness when I thought of the risk I’d be taking. The idea that this might be another waste of time surfaced. Damn Reyad’s ghost! He was making me doubt everything. The leak impacted my life. Someone had tipped off those goons at the fire festival, and Irys had known I was in the forest. Margg needed to be plugged.
“No. We’re all set for tonight,” Valek said. “This is about the Commander.” He paused.
“What about him?”
“Has he been meeting with anyone strange this week?”
“Strange?”
“Someone you don’t know or an adviser from another Military District?”
“Not that I’ve seen. Why?”
Valek paused again. I could see his mental wheels turning as he considered whether or not to trust me. “Commander Ambrose has agreed to admit a Sitian delegation.”
“That’s bad?” I asked, confused.
“He hates southerners! They’ve requested a meeting with him every year since the takeover. And for the last fifteen years, the Commander has replied with a single word: no. Now they’re due to arrive in a week.” Valek’s pacing increased. “Ever since you became the food taster and that Criollo showed up, the Commander has been acting different. I couldn’t put my finger on it before, it was just a nagging feeling, but now I have two particular incidents.”
“The change in his successor and now the southern delegation?”
“Exactly.”
I had no response. My experience with the Commander had been the complete opposite of what I had expected from a military dictator. He considered other opinions, was firm, decisive and fair. His power was obvious; every command was instantaneously obeyed. He lived the spartan life that he endorsed. There was no fear in his advisers and high-ranking officers, just an unflappable loyalty and immense respect. The only horror story since the takeover that I’d heard was about Rand’s mother. Of course, the assassinations before were infamous.
Valek stopped and took a deep breath. “I’ve misdirected some Criollo to our suite. I want you to eat a piece whenever he does. But you’re not to tell anyone, not even the Commander. That’s an order.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied automatically, but my mind reeled over his calling the suite “ours.” Did I hear that right? I wondered.
“Keep your meeting with Margg tonight. I’ll be there.”
“Should I tell Margg’s contact about the southern delegation?”
“No. Use the change of the Commander’s successor. It’s already floating around as a rumor, so you’ll just confirm it.” Valek strode from the room.
In case someone would discover our training room, I hid the practice weapons, removed all visible traces of our presence and locked the door. On my way to the baths, my thoughts dwelled on the meeting tonight. Distracted, I walked by an open doorway. An oddity. In this section of the castle, most of the doors led to storerooms and were kept locked.
Movement blurred to my left. Hands grabbed my arm and yanked me inside. The door slammed shut. Complete darkness descended. I was flung face-first against a stone wall. The air in my lungs whooshed out from the impact. I turned. My back to the wall, I gasped for breath.
“Stay put,” a male voice growled.
I aimed a front kick toward the voice but met air. Laughter taunted. A candle was uncovered. The weak yellow glow reflected off a long silver blade. Terrified, I traced