Page 9

CHAPTER NINE

I slip out of the classroom a few minutes before the class is due to finish, taking advantage of my students’—my former students’—distraction with the new magic they’ve been taught to sneak away and leave them in Preet’s hands. It’s for the best. If I dismissed the class myself, there would likely be some awkward farewells—and attempts to ask more questions, never mind that they already know more than they really should.

There’s a lot still for me to do before I have to get on a godsdamned horse tomorrow, but first I’m stealing ten minutes to go to the kitchens and beg for lunch. The cafeteria will be opening soon, but I want to avoid the possibility of being cornered by mages with questions.

My mission is successful, and I hide in the scullery with my sandwich as I reach out to Master for an update.

“Class is done. Do you need me there?” It’s a courtesy question—of course he does.

“No.”

What?

“You need to begin packing. We’re almost done here for the time being, anyway. The stone has made it clear that it’s told us what it can—the rest depends on what happens next.”

In other words, the rest depends on how soon the rogue mages raising zombies decide to unleash them on us all… and how soon I can find the stone’s champion. No pressure there. Just the most important race of the past thirty generations.

But… “Don’t you need me there while you speak to my mystery healer traveling companion?”

Master’s long pause has me setting my sandwich down. What’s happened? Did one of the councilors say something idiotic that he needed to call them out for?

“We already spoke with him. I thought it best that way. He was shocked, of course, but is willing to do what must be done and has gone to make preparations. You should go see him.”

I blink a few times. They spoke to him without me there? I knew Master planned to read the list to the stone this morning—we decided that last night. We could have done it then, but with so many of the masters already miffed about Master Samoine having constant access to the stone, we thought it best to let them think they’re important. I assumed, though, that telling the healer was something I would be there for.

“You spoke to him without me?” I try not to let it sound accusatory, but that’s hard with telepathy.

“I thought it best.”

Sudden dread curls in my stomach, making me wish I hadn’t already eaten half of the sandwich.

“Who is it?”

I can almost feel my master mentally bracing himself. “Jaimin Kahwyn.”

No.

No.

No no no no no .

No fucking way.

If you can hear me right now , I think furiously in the direction of the stone , know that you are a sadistic lump of… I founder. How do I insult a rock? …of clay, and I will get my revenge one day.

The pulse of condescending amusement I feel in return only stokes my rage. Stupid rock with a superiority complex.

“Talon?” Master’s mental voice is sharp. “You’re not doing anything foolish, are you?”

That depends on whether threatening the source of all creation can be considered foolish. Personally, I think it lands solidly in the maybe column.

So of course I lie. “No. Just… thinking.”

“I know you don’t like Master Kahwyn,” he continues. “But the stone was completely certain he’s the third in your traveling triumvirate… well, fourth, if we count Leicht.”

Yeah. I just bet it was.

“He said he’d expect you this afternoon. He made it quite clear that he understands you’re the expedition leader, despite his senior rank.” Master pauses. “I’m not certain what you have against him, Talon, but you will not embarrass me. Is that understood?”

The heat that floods my face is born of shame and humiliation. Master Samoine gives me a lot of freedom when it comes to self-expression. We both know a lot of my fellow mages dislike me because I’ve told them exactly what I think of them. He’s the same, so he doesn’t care. But there are some lines I won’t cross, and insulting a superior to his face—mage, healer, or dragon rider—would reflect very poorly on my master. I’ve never done it… with the exception of my outburst yesterday. That Master thinks I might do so now…

“Understood. I’ll treat Master Kahwyn with the respect he’s due.” It’s not as if I actually dislike him, anyway. I’m just… embarrassed by my own behavior and don’t want to deal with the consequences. “And I’ll go see him now.” I’m not going to be able to eat the rest of my lunch until I do. A thought occurs. “Does Tia know yet?” I doubt it. She’s the only one aside from me and Jaimin who knows everything that happened. If she’d already been told, I’d have had her laughing in my head all morning.

“No. As the expedition leader, that’s your job.”

It’s the second time he’s called me that, and I must admit, it makes me nervous. I’m not really the leader type. I’m more the “ignore instructions and do what I want” member of any group. The fact that Tia and Jaimin will be deferring to me on this journey is… unsettling.

“I’ll take care of it. I’m going to finish packing this afternoon, but I’ll come to your chamber this evening.”

Master sends back a wordless acknowledgment and then breaks contact.

I stare at what’s left of my sandwich and then wrap it in a napkin and shove it in my pocket, ignoring the scullery maid who’s sliding me wary sidelong glances. Since I’m wearing trousers, it’ll be a bit squished, but it will still taste good… later. When I’ve finished swallowing crow.

Seizing on one last chance to delay, I reach out to Tia. “What are you doing?”

“Packing your things.”

Er… what?

“What? I was going to do that. Don’t touch my things!”

Her mental scoff is just as annoying as when she does it out loud. “Please, Talon, be serious. You have no idea how to pack for a horseback journey.”

There’s a special way? Can’t I just shove what I need in my trunk and…

Oh. Where would I put a trunk on a horse? Shit. I hate when she’s right.

Clinging to what little dignity I have left, I say, “Fine, be that way. It saves me the effort. Have you arranged our supplies?”

“Yes. But if the stone plans to take us too far off the main highway, we may run into problems with food. I’ve only got one packhorse for us, so we’re carrying a limited supply.”

I don’t know what the usual number is supposed to be or even what a packhorse really does. I guess it’s right there in the name? But why would that affect food? Surely we’ll be stopping to eat in nice, clean, well-appointed inns and eating establishments.

I’m getting the sneaking suspicion that Tia means for us to actually use those tents she was talking about. “Do what you can,” I say, leaving that problem for future me to deal with. I’m the expedition leader, right? So we can stop for the night where I say, and if that means stopping in a village in the early afternoon because I’m not sure we’ll make it to the next one before nightfall, well, the stone will just have to deal with that.

I ignore the pulse of amusement from the stone. I’m the boss of it, not the other way around.

“Do we know who the healer is yet?” she asks. “I need to know if they have their own horse or if I should find one for them.”

Sighing, I tell her, “It’s Jaimin Kahwyn.”

For a split second, the only reaction I sense from her is shock.

And then she laughs. Not just mentally—she’s laughing out loud too. I can tell because it creates a telepathic echo. “This might just be the best moment of my life,” she says.

“I hate you. I’m going to talk to him now. If he needs a horse, I’ll let you know.”

“Oh, oh, please let me listen when you talk to him! Please!”

If this is sisterly love, I almost wish I was an only child. “I’m going now.”

“Fine. Have fun! And don’t worry about the horse thing—I can find out if he has one.” Her attention shifts away, and I mute the connection between us. What a day this has been. Being forced to hand my students over to someone else without ensuring they have the tools to stay alive—not the way I dreamed of ending my servitude as a teacher. Learning that I’ll have to travel with my… sworn enemy? That might be a bit harsh. But certainly the last person I ever wanted to travel with.

On a fucking horse.

Without all my things. If I can’t bring a trunk, what’s the available option? A satchel? My clothes aren’t going to fit in that, much less my books and other necessities. I’m going to need to check exactly what Tia’s packed for me. And look at a map, try to plot out which villages we can stay in.

Gods… money. I’m going to need money if we’re staying in inns. I make a mental note to speak to Master about it later. I have some , thanks to my allowance from the family estate and the royalties I get on some clever little pieces of magic—like the warming teacup—but I really think the combined councils should be funding this little journey. Anyone who argues is welcome to take my place on horseback and in a tent.

And now… now I need to go and speak to Jaimin Kahwyn, my new traveling companion. As if yesterday’s encounter wasn’t enough to make me want to avoid him for another six years.

It’s possible my old nanny was right about karmic justice being a real thing.

Someone with a less-than-charitable nature might suggest that I deliberately take the busiest hallways through the academy because I know I’ll be waylaid by mages with questions, thus delaying my meeting with Jaimin Kahwyn. They might say that my sudden agreeable nature in stopping to answer those questions—even though all I’m permitted to say is that an announcement is coming soon—is another delaying tactic. They also might find it unusual that when I finally do cross the chasm to the Academy of Healers, I don’t ask for directions but instead wander around in search of the right rooms… somehow getting lost and ending up in the kitchens, the guards’ mess, and, embarrassingly for everyone involved, one of the guest receiving rooms that’s occupied by two people in a very delicate situation. The kind that requires trousers to be around ankles.

It was that last one that finally convinced me to get on with it, and while they were both scrambling to cover themselves, I said, “Oh, don’t mind me—if you could just give me directions to Master Kahwyn’s rooms, I’ll let you get back to it.”

But even though I finally made it here, I somehow can’t bring myself to knock. I’ve been staring at the door for the past five minutes. I’m just lucky this isn’t a busy corridor, or knowing healers as I do, they’d be asking if I needed counseling.

What I need is a way to travel back in time and stop myself from being a jackass six years ago. And while I’m at it, I can go further back and make sure our ancestors don’t destroy all knowledge of zombies. Because that really was the worst decision they could have made.

Since the ability to time travel isn’t one I—or anyone—possesses, I suppose I’ll just have to?—

The door opens before I can lift my hand to knock. I was going to, though. I swear I was.

“I got tired of waiting,” Jaimin informs me, that little twitch of amusement from yesterday still on his lips. “We both have better things to do than have you stand in the hallway all afternoon.”

I open my mouth to deny it, close it, then ask, “How did you know I was here?”

He holds the door wide and gestures for me to enter. “There’s some muscle soreness in your right shoulder. Minor strain.”

“And you could sense that?” No way. No way could he sense that through the door, without knowing I was here, without trying.

He closes the door, but instead of answering my question, he asks one of his own. “Would you like me to take care of it?”

I rotate my shoulder while I think it over. I woke this morning with it feeling a little stiff, likely from the way I’d been sleeping. He’s right that it’s minor—one of those everyday aches that you stop feeling after a while and know will go away on its own.

“Thank you, but it’s fine. We have more important things to focus on.” Like how awkward this whole situation is.

He shrugs and crosses the room to a wall of shelves packed full of jars, bottles, and boxes. “It’s your decision.” That little quirk of the mouth again. “You’re the expedition leader.”

“Yes. I am. Er… I hope you’re packing light. We’ll only have one packhorse.” Does that sound like something a leader would say?

He nods to his pack sitting beside the door. It’s the kind I’ve seen Tia putting things in when she prepares for a few days away. Larger than a satchel, but not nearly large enough, if you ask me. “Those are my personal belongings. I’m also going to need to bring some medicines and other supplies, since we don’t know exactly what we’ll be facing. I can handle most healing without a problem, but you and your sister have somewhat of a reputation here in the healers’ academy, so I want to be prepared for anything.” He adds two bottles and a small silk pouch to an already half-full satchel.

My jaw drops with indignation. “A reputation ?” I sputter. “What for? We’re not?—”

The look he gives me is enough to make me shut up. For a moment, I’d forgotten that he’s the one who saved my life when I thought it would be clever to leap out a five-story window and fall down the side of a mountain. And dragon riders are known for being reckless. There’s a whole team of healers on duty at their barracks, and Tia knows them all very well.

“We’ve matured,” I say instead. “And we both know how important this is. Important enough to ride horses.”

He turns to face me with a jar in his hand. “What’s wrong with riding horses?”

I groan. “Don’t tell me. You love horses. You think they’re the gods’ gift to humanity. You have one that you love like a child, and you can’t wait to spend however long riding the beast across half the continent.”

The lip twitch is back. It makes me want to rip his mouth off. “I do, in fact, have a horse and enjoy riding. I take it you’re not an equestrian, then? I’d better pack some salve for muscle stiffness… and something that will help a bruised bottom.”

Does that mean he won’t heal away my sore muscles? I refuse to ask. Somehow, I’ve lost control of this conversation, and begging for help isn’t going to get it back.

“I’m told you saw the stone this morning,” I say. “At this stage, it’s being somewhat closemouthed about the route we’ll need to take. All we know is that we’re heading south into Lenle.”

He stops packing, sets the satchel down carefully, and walks over to the window, looking out toward the dragons’ valley. “I’ve never had an experience like that before.” His voice is so soft, I almost don’t hear him. “When I looked at the stone…” He shakes his head. “Well. We may not know what the journey will bring, but at least we have the stone on our side.”

If he thinks that’s a good thing, he clearly doesn’t know the stone like I do.

“Yes. Definitely. On our side.” A chunk of rock and a dragon, both with attitude problems, both who hate me. That’s a great omen.

Speaking of people who hate me whose help I might need… I suck in a breath.

“I haven’t apologized to you yet. For… what I said. After you helped me. I-I… There’s no excuse. I’ve regretted my actions that caused the situation, and I regret that I didn’t show you the gratitude you deserve for saving my life. I’m deeply sorry.”

He’d turned to face me when I began speaking, and now he tilts his head slightly. “Thank you. Does that mean the offer’s off the table?”

The off— I remember my parting words to him yesterday, and for the second time in minutes, I sputter, and his laugh fills the room. It’s a truly joyous sound, and I’d probably appreciate it more if I wasn’t trying not to swallow my tongue.

“You should see your face right now. I’d happily save your life again just for this moment.”

“You’re evil ,” I accuse, but I can’t help smiling. That was a good one, even I have to admit it. I shove down the tiny part of me that’s sad he was joking. It’s not like I could ever have let it happen. We have a mission. He’s a master, and I’m only a level-2 mage. And… and… I need to let this go right now, before I start coming up with reasons it would be a good idea.

“There needs to be no awkwardness between us,” he insists, still grinning at me. “The stone’s put you in charge of this vital job, and for some reason, it wants me to go with you. We have to be prepared to work as a team. That means leaving your asinine past deeds in the past.”

I want to argue with his use of “asinine,” but I don’t have any grounds on which to do so. I nod instead. “Agreed.” Briefly, I hesitate, then decide it’s time for some trust. “You should know—and so far, the only others who do are me, my sister, and my master—the stone can read my thoughts and communicate privately with me.”

Mild startlement crosses his face. “That’s interesting. And it’s going to prove very useful if we need directions but can’t risk having anyone see it. You’re right to keep it secret, though. There’s already quite a few grumbles about Master Samoine having possession of the stone now and you, his apprentice, being the one chosen to search for the champion. Let’s not kick the hornets’ nest any further.”

That’s sensible, which of course makes me immediately want to parade through the halls shouting the news to all and sundry. I squash that urge. It’s those kinds of urges that lead to me jumping out of windows. Well, the urges and copious amounts of unlabeled spirits.

“My main concern right now,” I confess, “is whether the three of us being chosen is some kind of symmetry thing—mage, healer, rider—or not.”

He nods slowly. “I had the same thought. The stone isn’t my area of expertise—we do some minor studies on it, but mostly, it falls in the domain of you mages. However, nothing I remember learning indicated that it had a penchant for symbolism.”

“Me either.”

“And if it did, why make the choices it did?”

I raise a brow. “You mean, why choose a level-2 mage, and a mid-rank dragon rider, then decide on a master healer so tremendous he has songs written about him?”

His face flushes dark red. “That’s not?—”

“No, I agree. If this was about symbolism, the stone would have chosen three masters of more or less equal rank. I think we’ve been chosen because there’s something we, individually, can bring to the group.” Although fuck knows what I’m bringing, aside from the ability to take no bullshit and piss people off everywhere I go.

“It’s still not exactly what I meant,” he insists. “But I don’t think you’re wrong. I’m a… an outlier. My family has a healer bloodline, but it’s not particularly strong. It even skipped the last three generations. Then I came along… and now suddenly, we’re on the verge of a zombie war, and I’ve been chosen to help you find the only hope we have of surviving it.”

“You think something’s going to happen to one of us. Or maybe to the champion. That it’s… fated, or something. And that you’re as strong as you are so this whole mission isn’t doomed.”

He swallows. “I hope not.”

Yeah. I hope not too.