Page 5 of The Tribes of Magic (Paragons #3)
AINSLEY
T he kitchen smelled of caramelized onions and fresh herbs. Dozens of cooks peeled, chopped, stirred, and sprinkled—while the Alchemist in charge of them all waved his hands around and shouted until his face grew red, a conductor to a culinary orchestra.
As soon as the Apprentices had entered the kitchen, Ms. Featherdale, the event planner, had handed each of us a folded set of clothing.
We now stood in a perfect line by the door, awaiting instructions.
Today, we were supposed to be training as Elves, but in our white dress shirts and black pants, we looked a lot more like waiters.
“Fix your hair, Savannah,” Ms. Featherdale snapped at me before she scurried off, her high-heeled steps shaky and off-balance, like she was walking on a swaying boat. The pressure of pulling off a perfect Summit was clearly getting to her.
I raked my fingers through my hair, trying to form a sleek ponytail. A quick look in the oven’s reflective door was all it took to tell me that I’d failed miserably. It looked even worse than before.
Sensing my distress, Bronte came to my rescue. “Here, Savannah. Let me help you.”
A few minutes later, I had a perfect pair of Dutch braids.
“Wow. These braids are great. Thanks, Bronte.” I turned my head in front of the oven mirror, viewing the braids from different angles. There wasn’t a single strand out of place. “My braids always have little bumps and bits sticking out of them. How did you get them to be so perfect?”
I thought I sensed a sigh buried deep beneath Bronte’s smile.
“Practice, Savannah. Lots and lots of practice.”
I’d practiced a lot too, but my braids were never this pretty. There had to be a spell for that. I made a mental note to research hairstyling spells.
Ms. Featherdale stopped by to check on us. She nodded in approval at my braids. “Much better, Savannah.”
Phew.
“Tuck in your shirt, Jack,” Ms. Featherdale hissed, then set off on her next loop of the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Jack looked utterly miserable, trying to tuck in his already-tucked-in shirt. He whispered to the others, “I wonder how long we’re supposed to just stand here.”
Naturally, Bronte had the answer. Bronte always had the answer to everything. That’s why she was at the top of the Scoreboard.
“We wait here until the food is ready to be served. Haven’t you heard? We’ve been assigned to serve the Court members their lunch.”
“And how will that help us discover if we have Elf magic?” Dutch wondered.
“Trust the system, Mr. Holland.”
Ainsley glided into the kitchen like she walked on air. The Knight’s long, blonde hair was braided up into an elaborate bun. Instead of armor, she wore a pants suit.
Ainsley was one of our mentors. She was twenty years old. She’d belonged to that first group of Knights four years ago. She was tall, beautiful, and charming. When she shone her pretty smile on Dutch, a decidedly sappy look took over his whole face. He even drooled a little.
He wasn’t the only one. When Ainsley spoke in her dreamy voice, everyone listened.
“As you can see, Elf magic is very versatile. It is the power to charm, to persuade, to inspire. Elves can control how others see us—and what others feel when they see us. This isn’t about charging in, waving your sword, screaming at the top of your lungs, Apprentices.
Mastering Elf magic requires subtlety and patience.
It requires serenity and planning. It is a beautifully complex branch of magic, but one that, sadly, most of you lack the potential to wield.
Nonetheless, I expect each of you to make a solid effort today. ”
And with that dramatic note delivered, Ainsley left us to go speak with Ms. Featherdale.
“Ok, so, did anyone understand how exactly we’re supposed to demonstrate whether or not we have Elf magic just by serving food?”
“It’s not about serving the food, Jack,” Bronte said. “It’s about how we present ourselves as we do it.”
“Listen to Bronte,” Victoria said. “She knows what she’s talking about. The mentors want to see if we can charm the guests we’re serving.”
“Charm the sophisticated members of the Many Realms Court?” Jack snorted. “That’s a tall order. And what if we can’t charm them? We could put the whole Summit in jeopardy! The Court could vote to reject Gaia’s application because we weren’t charming enough!”
Bronte took Jack’s hands, steadying them. “Calm down. As long as none of us spill soup all over the delegates or insult them, I doubt we will jeopardize anything. The worst that can happen is they totally ignore all the Apprentices.”
“I don’t know, Bronte,” Dutch said slowly. “I can think of way worse outcomes than all of us being ignored.”
On cue, every single Apprentice turned to stare at me.
“Hey! I’m not going to cause any trouble.”
“Says the girl who’s found herself at the center of every major crisis in the Fortress since she arrived here,” Zoe said to her teammates. “Might be safer if we tie her up until the day’s over. If she does anything crazy, we’ll all get in trouble with her.”
“I’d like to see you try to tie me up.” My gaze locked with Zoe’s.
She remained unfazed. “Actually, food poisoning might be more believable. And it would be harder to trace that back to us.”
Ok, I was not eating anything as long as I was around that crazy Apprentice.
“No one’s poisoning Savannah,” Victoria declared. “Or tying her up. We are all going to get along. Got it?”
Victoria’s tone was light and soft, like petals fluttering in the spring breeze.
A pleasantly-sweet flavor tickled my tongue, and my head felt like it had been smothered in layers and layers of cotton candy.
A lethargic heaviness took over, making it hard to move.
Making it hard to speak. Except for two little words.
They leaked through the blanket of cotton candy, swallowing my mind, filling my mouth.
I had to say them. I bit down hard on my tongue, swallowing the words that had invaded my consciousness.
“Yes, Victoria,” the other Apprentices chimed together. The same dopey smile was on each of their lips. The same devoted glimmer was in each of their eyes.
Victoria blinked at them in shock.
“Well done, Victoria. Excellent spellwork!”
Where had Ainsley come from all of a sudden? Had she been watching us all along?
Dutch groaned, clutching his head like it hurt. “What did you do to us, Victoria?”
“She bewitched you, Dutch. She bewitched all of you.”
The Apprentices’ smiles soured.
Ainsley beamed at Victoria like she couldn’t be prouder that she’d robbed her fellow Apprentices of their freewill, but her smile faded when her gaze fell on me.
“Most of you anyway. Polymages ,” she sighed.
“You will need to put considerably more magic behind your spell to subjugate other Elves, Victoria.” She sighed again. “Or Polymages.”
“And what if I don’t want to subjugate anyone?” Victoria said meekly.
“Your scruples will soon fall to the wayside,” Ainsley replied with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“Yeah, because we wouldn’t want a pesky thing like morality to get in the way,” I blurted out.
In unison, Bronte and Dutch buried their faces in their hands.
Ainsley’s perfect mouth drew into a tight line. “Do you have something to say, Apprentice?”
“Only that we shouldn’t be so quick to abandon our scruples. They are, after all, what tell us right from wrong. Knights are supposed to be honorable.” I gave her a brief, tight smile. “I’m pretty sure that’s somewhere in the Code of Conduct.”
“Careful, Savannah. The General does not tolerate insubordination.” Ainsley’s gaze flickered to the ceiling.
I hadn’t noticed the camera mounted there, but I did now. Great. The General was probably watching us right now, thinking up new ways to kick me out of the Apprentice Program.
Ainsley hazarded a sympathetic look at me, then she turned and walked across the kitchen without another word of warning.
I guess she was afraid of the General too.
“Well, that was close,” Dutch muttered.
“Do you really think this is over?” Bronte shook her head. “Then you weren’t listening to what Ainsley said about patience and planning .”
“You think she’s going to find a way to get back at Savannah for talking back to her?” Dutch asked.
“That’s crazy,” I laughed. “Ainsley isn’t like that.”
“Come on, Savannah. How much do you truly know her? How well do you know any of the Knights, for that matter?”
“Well enough to know Ainsley isn’t a mean, vindictive person, Bronte. She’s nice. Right?”
I looked at my teammates for confirmation. Bronte sighed, and that said it all.
“Nice going, Savannah. This is exactly what you should not do if you want to earn points on the Scoreboard.”
Dutch was right, of course, but the Scoreboard was not what I was worried about right now.
Bronte thought Ainsley would think up a way to get back at me, but what if she’d already worked against me?
Kato thought someone at the Castle was watching me and reporting everything I did back to the General.
I’d always thought Ainsley was so nice, but what if I didn’t know her at all? What if she was the one who’d told the General I was a Polymage? What if she was the Knight spying on me?