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CHAPTER TEN

When I find Master in his chambers that evening, he’s in one of his solemn moods. The stone is on his desk, box open, and I wonder if he’s been talking to it. He’s staring out the window toward the dragons’ valley. People seem to be doing that a lot lately. I understand it to a point—the view is nice, and the dragons have been unsettled, so definitely you’d want to see them coming if they planned to raze the academies to the ground—but it’s dark right now. Aside from a few stars, there’s nothing to see.

“Are you ready to go?” Master asks, still gazing out into the darkness.

“Yes. Well, everything’s packed, anyway. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for this.” If I can’t be honest with him, that leaves me with only Tia. And she already knows I’m not the important-mission type.

“No, you wouldn’t be.” He turns suddenly and looks me in the eye. “But if it helps, I can’t think of anyone else I’d trust with this.”

For a second, I don’t know what I feel. Shock, certainly. Surprise also. Pleasure? And then the heavy weight of expectation.

“That does not help, Master.”

He chuckles. “The stone will guide you. It would be a real achievement for you to fuck this up.”

“That sounds like a challenge,” I mutter.

“ Not a challenge.” The edge of exasperation in his voice is as welcome as it is familiar. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I believe you are the only person who could pull this off. Not just because the stone insisted.”

I make myself comfortable in one of the armchairs by the fire. “Have you lost your marbles, Master? Should I call for a healer?”

He doesn’t laugh this time. “You’re a strong telepath—I believe that’s what allows the stone to communicate directly with you. It’s also going to allow you to stay in touch with me and the council no matter where you are. Not everyone else could manage that.”

It’s true—I’m a very strong telepath, and sometimes I feel as though I still have more in me that I can’t quite reach. That’s why I’m working so hard toward my mastery—I want to unlock every part of my Talent.

“But there are other strong telepaths who could do it,” I point out.

“None who also have your ability to fit in with everyone you meet,” he counters.

“People hate me!”

“Only the ones you don’t want to like you. Be honest, Talon—the kitchen staff, the guards, the housekeepers… none of them hate you.”

“That’s because I bribe them.” How dare he say people actually like me?

“Before you came here, the staff had a reputation for being unbribable,” he says dryly. “Even now, haven’t you noticed that you’re the only one who does it?”

I blink a few times. “I just thought that was because everyone else is too stupid to think of it.”

He huffs. “I swear, how such an intelligent man can be so dense sometimes… You’re charming when you want to be, and people respond to that. You’re blunt and honest to a fault, and other people respond positively to that. Better, you know when to use each tactic. You’re a powerful mage, and your ego is uncontrollable, but you eschew the trappings of magic that intimidate unTalented people.”

“Eschew.” I snort. “What a stupid word.” Then I think about what he said. “Is this because I hate wearing robes? You think I’ll be good at this because I don’t like having miles of fabric flapping around me?”

If looks could kill, Master would have just eviscerated me. “That’s part of it,” he says, his patience waning. “But you’re also the son of a nobleman and you know how to behave at court.”

“Court?” I sit forward, humor vanishing. “Nobody said I had to go to any of the courts. Do you really think the champion could be there?”

Master shrugs. “The stone will guide you,” he repeats. “It may be that you need to visit every court on the continent and a whole lot of aristocratic estates as well.”

“Or none of the above.”

He winces.

“Noooooo. No. Fuck, no. What did the stone say?” I glare at it. Dammit, part of the benefit of being a mage was that I’d never have to go back to court again. I hate politics. And fuck knows, I was never popular with other aristocratic families—I had even less patience as an adolescent than I do now, and my insults may have flowed a little too freely.

“It wasn’t so much the stone,” Master admits. “We passed the news to the court mages, and Master Haftel has requested that you visit and speak to the king on your way through.”

Haftel—she’s in Lenle. It’s the closest country, and if we stick to the highway—which I’m very much hoping we will—we’ll reach the capital, Lenledia, within a week or so.

“The stone might direct us elsewhere,” I say hopefully. A visit to court, and not even a court I’m familiar with, isn’t high on my fun-to-do list.

He spreads his hands. “If it does, it does. But if you do end up in Lenledia, or even in the near vicinity, the councils agreed that you’d pay a visit to the king.”

I groan. “What am I even supposed to say to him? Will he know why I’m there?”

Master nods. “Once the announcement’s been made tomorrow, the court mages have been instructed to advise the rulers of the situation. It will be kept in strictest confidence—nobody wants widespread panic. But we’ll likely need them to quietly begin making preparations.”

“For what?” I ask bitterly. “The unTalented can’t fight zombies. The stone said so.” Surely he can’t mean to send soldiers on suicide missions?

“No, but they can set up and man supply dumps and camps for our people. They can evacuate communities that may be endangered. And they can ensure that the looting and other crimes that always occur during war are quashed. Once war breaks out, it won’t just be zombies we need to worry about, Talon. The criminal element thrives on unrest, and confused, frightened innocents can cause more trouble without meaning to than you’d think.”

That’s a steaming pile of gods’ turds I hadn’t considered. “Shit.”

He nods. “Exactly. But none of that is your concern. If the opportunity arises, visit the king, show him the stone, and assure him everything is under control. There may be other requests for you to visit courts, but don’t worry about them for now. Your focus needs to be on finding the champion… a task for which you’re uniquely suited.”

I sigh. “If you say so. I still maintain that there must be someone else who’s a strong telepath and good with people.” Though even admitting I’m that last one makes me want to vomit.

“Not really, but that brings me to the third reason it could only have been you.”

“I’m waiting with bated breath.”

Shaking his head, he says, “There are times when I wish that were true and I could leave you waiting forever.”

Well, that’s not very nice.

“The third reason is Tia.”

I frown. “Tia? Master, I’m not sure if this has escaped you, but she and I are two people. And while I agree that it would have been very difficult for us to be apart for so long, there are other dragon riders who could…” I trail off. The look he’s giving me now is his “don’t fucking test me” one.

“There is nobody else with whom you have such a unique bond.” He’s being vague, but I instantly realize what he means. Our mind-to-mind connection—the way I’m always partly in Tia’s head, and she’s in mine. The bond we never spoke of to anyone because we knew, even as children, that it had to be secret.

There’s no record of anyone else in the world being connected like we are. I checked. And when something inside me suggested I could trust Master with this, he checked, too, in archives I don’t have access to. Then he told us both to never speak of it to anyone, not ever.

What Jaimin said earlier about feeling as though his entire existence was fated for this event comes back to me. Could that mean…?

“Master… do you think we’re the way we are because we were born to be tools of prophecy?”

He says nothing, but I see the answer in his eyes, and bile rises in my throat.

“I am my own man,” I rasp. “Not anyone’s pawn. Neither is Tia.”

“We’re all pawns of the gods,” he chides. “I know you think little of religion—and rightly so, given the current state of the priesthood—but you still believe in the gods.”

I grimace.

“This doesn’t make you any less yourself, Talon. Fate and prophecy are funny things. They plant the seeds, but free will is real. You made the choices you did of your own accord, and it made you the person fate needs. If you’d chosen differently…” He shrugs. “There would have been another. But I, for one, am glad it’s you.”

If only I could say the same.