was well-known, but this time she had gone too far.
“Roze, that was quite—”
She raised her hand, stopping Bain from the rest of his lecture. “You know the
history. You have been warned many, many times, so I will say no more about it.”
She rose from her seat. Towering a good seven inches above me, she peered down.
“Go, then. Take Leif with you. Consider it your first lesson. A lesson in futility.
When you return, you’ll be mine.”
Roze made to leave, but I caught a thread of her thoughts in my mind.
…should keep her occupied and out of my way.
Roze paused before she exited. Looking over her shoulder, she gave me a
pointed stare. Keep out of Sitia’s affairs. And you might be the only Soulfinder in
history to live past the age of twenty-five.
Go take another look at your history books, Roze, I said. The demise of a
Soulfinder is always reported along with the death of a Master Magician.
Roze ignored me as she left the meeting room, ending the session.
I went to find Leif. His quarters were near the apprentice’s wing on the east side
of the Keep’s campus. He lived in the Magician’s building, which housed those who
had graduated from the Keep and were now either teaching new students or working
as aides to the Master Magicians.
The rest of the magicians who had also completed the curriculum were assigned
to different towns to serve the citizens of Sitia. The Council tried to have a healer in
every town, but the magicians with rare powers—like the ability to read ancient
languages or find lost items—moved from place to place as needed.
Magicians with strong powers took the Master-level test before leaving the Keep.
In the past twenty years, only Zitora had passed, bringing the number of Masters to
four. In Sitia’s history, there never had been more than four Masters at one time.
Irys thought a Soulfinder could be strong enough to take the Master’s test. I
disagreed. They already had the maximum, and I lacked the basic magical skills of
lighting fires and moving objects—skills all the Masters possessed.
Besides, being a Soulfinder was bad enough, having to endure and fail the Master
test would be too much to bear. Or so I guessed. The rumors about the test
sounded horrific.
Before I even reached Leif’s door, it swung open and my brother stuck his head
out. The rain soaked his short black hair in an instant. I shooed him back as I hurried
into his living room, dripping muddy slush onto his clean floor.
His apartment was tidy and sparsely furnished. The only hint of his personality
could be gleaned from the few paintings that decorated the room. A detailed
rendering of a rare Ylang-Ylang flower indigenous to the Illiais Jungle, a painting of a
strangler fig suffocating a dying mahogany tree and a picture of a tree leopard
crouched on a branch hung on his walls.
Leif scanned my bedraggled appearance with resignation. His jade-colored eyes
were the only feature that matched my own. His stocky body and square jaw were
the complete opposite of my oval face and thin build.
“It can’t be good news,” Leif said. “I’d doubt you would brave the weather just
to say hello.”
“You opened the door before I could knock,” I said. “You must know
something’s up.”
Leif wiped the rain from his face. “I smelled you coming.”
“Smelled?”
“You reek of Lavender. Do you bathe in Mother’s perfume or just wash your
cloak with it?” he teased.
“How mundane. I was thinking of something a little more magical.”
“Why waste the energy on using magic when you don’t have to? Although…”
Leif’s eyes grew distant and I felt the slight tingle of power being pulled.
“Apprehension. Excitement. Annoyance. Anger,” Leif said. “I take it the Council
hasn’t voted to make you Queen of Sitia yet?”
When I didn’t answer, he said, “Don’t worry, little sister, you’re still the princess
of our family. We both know Mother and Father love you best.”
His words held an edge, and I remembered it hadn’t been long since he had
wanted to see me dead.
“Esau and Perl love us equally. You really do need me around to correct your
misconceptions. I’ve proved you wrong before. I can do it again.”
Leif put his hands on his hips and raised one dubious eyebrow.
“You said I was afraid to come back to the Keep. Well—” I spread my arms
wide, flinging drops of water onto Leif’s green tunic “—here I am.”
“You are here. I’ll grant you that. But are you unafraid?”
“I already have a mother and a Story Weaver. Your job is to be the annoying
older brother. Stick to what you know.”
“Ohhh. I’ve hit a nerve.”
“I don’t want to argue with you. Here.” I pulled Moon Man’s note from my
cloak’s pocket and handed it to him.
He unfolded the damp paper, scanning the message. “Ferde,” he said, coming to
the same conclusion. “Have you told the Council?”
“No. The Masters know.” I filled Leif in on what had happened in the meeting
room, omitting my “exchange” with Roze Featherstone.
Leif’s wide shoulders drooped. After a long moment, he said, “Master
Featherstone doesn’t believe Ferde and Cahil are going to the Daviian Plateau. She
doesn’t trust me anymore.”
“You don’t know that for—”
“She thinks Cahil is headed in another direction. Normally she would send me to
determine his location and send for her. Together, we would confront him. Now I
get assigned the wild-valmur chase.”
“Valmur?” It took me a moment to connect the name with the small, long-tailed
creature that lived in the jungle.
“Remember? We used to chase them through the trees. They were so fast and
quick, we never caught one. But sit down and hold a piece of sap candy and they’ll
jump right into your lap and follow you around all day.”
When I failed to respond, Leif cringed with guilt. “That must have been after…”
After I had been kidnapped and taken to Ixia. Although I could imagine a young
Leif scampering through the jungle’s canopy after a fleet-footed valmur.
The Zaltana Clan’s homestead had been built high in the tree branches, and my
father had joked that the children learned to climb before they could walk.
“Roze could be wrong about Cahil’s intentions. So pack some of that sap candy.
We might need it,” I said.
Leif shivered. “At least it will be warmer in the plains, and the plateau is farther
south.”
I left Leif’s quarters, heading to my tower to pack some supplies. The sleet blew
sideways and tiny daggers of ice stung my face as I hurried through the storm. Irys
was waiting for me in the receiving room just past the oversize tower entrance. The
flames in the hearth pulsed with the rush of cold air slipping around the doors as I
fought to close them against the wind.
I hustled to the fire and held my hands out. The prospect of traveling in such
weather was unappealing.
“Does Leif know how to light fires?” I asked Irys.
“I think so. But no matter how skilled he is, wet wood won’t ignite.”
“Great,” I muttered. Steam floated from my soaked cloak. I draped the soggy
garment around a chair then dragged it closer to the fire.
“When are you leaving?” Irys asked.
“Right away.” My stomach grumbled and I realized I had missed lunch. I sighed,
knowing dinner would probably be a cold slice of cheese and mushy bread.
“I’m meeting Leif in the barn. Oh snake spit!” I remembered a couple of
commitments.
“Irys, can you tell Gelsi and Dax I’ll start their training when I get back?”
“What training? Not magic—”
“No, no. Self-defense training.” I pointed to my bow. The five-foot-long staff of
ebony wood was still threaded through its holder on my backpack. Drops of water
beaded and gleamed on the weapon.
I pulled it free, feeling the solid weight of the staff in my hands. Underneath the
ebony surface of the bow was a gold-colored wood. Pictures of me as a child, of
the jungle, my family, and so on had been etched into the wood. Even Kiki’s loving
eyes had been included in the story of my life. The bow moved smoothly in my
hands. A gift from a master crafts-woman of the Sandseed Clan who had also raised
Kiki.
“And Bain knows that you won’t be at his morning lesson,” Irys said. “But he
said—”
“Don’t tell me he assigned homework,” I pleaded. Just thinking about lugging the
heavy history tome made my back hurt.
Irys smiled. “He said that he would help you catch up on your studies when you
return.”
Relieved, I picked up my pack, sorting the contents to see what other supplies
we would need.
“Anything else?” Irys asked.
“No. What are you going to tell the Council?” I asked.
“That Roze has assigned you to learn about your magic from the Story Weavers.
The first documented Soulfinder in Sitia was a Sandseed. Did you know that?”
“No.” I was surprised but shouldn’t have been. After all, what I knew about
Soulfinders wouldn’t fill a page in one of Master Bain’s history books.
When I finished packing, I said goodbye to Irys and muscled my way through
the wind to the dining hall. The kitchen staff always had a supply of travel rations on
hand for the magicians. I grabbed enough food to last us a week.
As I drew closer to the stables, I could see a few brave horse heads poking out
of their stalls. Kiki’s copper-and-white face was unmistakable even in the murky
half-light.
She nickered in greeting and I opened my mind to her.
We go? she asked.
Yes. I’m sorry to take you out on such a horrible day, I said.
Not bad with Lavender Lady.
Lavender Lady was the name the horses had given me. They named the people
around them just like we would name a pet. I had to smile, though, remembering
Leif’s comment about my bathing in the pungent herb.
Lavender smell like… Kiki didn’t have the words to describe her emotions. A
mental image of a bushy blue-gray lavender plant with its long purple cluster of
flowers formed in Kiki’s mind. Feelings of contentment and security accompanied
the image.
The main corridor of the stable echoed as if empty despite the pile of feed bags
nearby. The thick supporting beams of the building stood like soldiers between the
stalls and the end of the row disappeared into the gloom.
Leif? I asked Kiki.
Sad Man in tack room, Kiki said.
Thanks. I ambled toward the back of the barn, inhaling the familiar aroma of
leather and saddle soap. The dry smell of straw scratched my throat and clung to the
earthy scent of manure.
Tracker, too.
Who?
But before Kiki could answer I spotted Captain Marrok in the tack room with
Leif. The sharp tip of Marrok’s sword was aimed at Leif’s chest.
“STAY BACK, YELENA,” Marrok ordered. “Answer me, Leif.”
Leif’s face had paled, but his jaw was set in a stubborn line. His gaze met mine,
questioning.
“What do you want, Marrok?” I asked.
The bruises on Marrok’s face had faded, but his right eye was still puffy and raw
despite Healer Hayes’s efforts to repair his broken cheekbone.
“I want to find Cahil,” Marrok said.
“We all want to find him. Why are you threatening my brother?” I used a stern
tone to remind Marrok that he now dealt with me. Having an infamous reputation had
a few advantages.
Marrok looked at me. “He works with First Magician. She’s in charge of the
search. If she has any clue as to where to find Cahil, she’ll send Leif.” He gestured
to the bridles in Leif’s hands. “On a day like today, he’s not going to the market or
out for a pleasure ride. But he won’t tell me where he’s going.”
It continued to amaze me just how fast news and gossip traveled through the
Keep’s guards.
“Did you ask him before or after you pulled your sword?”
The tip of Marrok’s blade wavered. “Why does it matter?” he asked.
“Because most people are more willing to cooperate if they don’t have a weapon
pointed at their chest.” Realizing that Marrok was a career soldier who did most of
his talking with his sword, I switched tactics.
“Why didn’t you plan to follow Leif?” Marrok’s tracking abilities had impressed
the horses so much that they had given him the name Tracker.
Marrok touched his cheek and winced. I could guess his thoughts. Marrok had
followed Cahil with the utmost loyalty, but Cahil had beaten and tortured him to find
out the truth about his common heritage, leaving Marrok for dead.