Мария Снайдер - Magic Study - Study 2

The guards blocked both exits. I could see Dax’s grin in my mind, knowing he would delight in telling me the gossip and rumors from the other students about my protectors.

I sat on the bed in annoyance and sealed my fate. The soft comfort of my pillow called to me. I would rest only a moment, clearing my head so I could plan a way to lose my two shadows.

During the next five days, I had only one successful escape. The morning after I had helped Zitora with Tula’s grief flag, I stood next to Irys for Tula’s raising ceremony.

Tula’s body had been wrapped in white linen strips and covered with her flag. The leader of the Cowan clan spoke kind words over her body as her parents wept. All four Master Magicians attended. Zitora soaked a handkerchief with her tears, but I clamped down on my emotions and focused on Opal, hardening my resolve to find her.

Tula’s body was to be taken home and buried in her family’s graveyard. But, according to Sitian beliefs, during this farewell ceremony her spirit transferred to the flag. The people surrounding me believed that when this pennant of white silk fluttered above Roze’s tower, Tula’s spirit would be released into the sky.

But I knew better. Tula’s spirit was trapped inside Ferde and only his death would release her. For me, Tula’s flag not only signaled Ferde that we had agreed to his exchange, but also symbolized my determination to find and stop him.

The morning after Tula’s ceremony, I led my guards to the baths. The pools and changing rooms bustled with students getting ready for classes, and despite the assortment of wary looks aimed my way, I managed to pay a few novices to create a diversion near the back entrance.

The ruse worked. I dashed out of the baths and out of the Keep before the soldiers at the gate could recognize me. The guards stationed at the Keep’s gate monitored who came in, and, unless there was a crisis, they only paid a passing interest to those who left.

Once out of sight, my first task included finding Fisk and his friends. The market was just stirring to life. Only a few customers wandered through the stands at this early hour. I found Fisk playing dice with a group of children.

He ran over to me. “Lovely Yelena, how can I assist you today?” His smile lit up his face.

The other children surrounded me, waiting for instructions. They appeared clean and cared for. They earned money for their families, and I thought that once I finished this ugly business with Ferde, I would give them more help. I remembered to tell them about the Keep’s need for another gardener, though, and was rewarded to see one girl run home to tell her father.

“I need guides,” I told Fisk. “Show me all the shortcuts and hidden areas of the Citadel.”

While they took me through back alleys and forgotten quarters, I questioned them about the people. Anybody new? Anybody acting strange? Had they seen a young, frightened girl with a man? They regaled me with wild stories, but the information was not what I needed. As we moved, I searched the surrounding homes with my magic, seeking Opal, or the wisp of someone else’s magic, or anything that might give me a clue as to her whereabouts.

The day was well spent and only my hunger could stop me. Fisk led me to the best meat griller in the Citadel’s market. As I ate the juicy beef, I decided I would continue my search late into the night and then find a place to sleep. I would have plenty more days to spend hunting Opal.

At least that had been my intention until Irys and my guards ambushed me. Hidden behind a shield of magic, she prevented me from sensing them until too late. The instant the two soldiers grabbed my arms; she seized control of my body, pushing aside what I had thought to be a strong mental barrier. The full power of a Master Magician reduced my own defenses to dust. Unable to move or to talk, I stared at her in complete surprise.

Even though I had missed Irys’s morning lesson and blocked her efforts to find me with her magic, I thought she would understand my mission. I was unprepared for the severity of her anger.

My guards, looking grim and scared, clung to me.

You will not leave the Keep again. You will not lose your guards again. Or I will lock you in the Keep’s prison. Understand?

Yes. I’m—

I’ll be watching.

But—

Irys severed our mental connection with a head aching abruptness. Yet her magic still gripped my body.

“Take her back to the Keep,” Irys ordered the guards. “Take her to her rooms. She may leave them only for lessons and meals. Do not lose her again.”

The guards flinched under her searing gaze. The larger one picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. I suffered the indignity of being carried through the Citadel, across the Keep’s campus and dumped onto my bed.

Irys didn’t relinquish control of my body until the next morning, although I still felt a band of her magic wrapped around my throat. By then, I was ready to throttle anyone who dared to get in my way. Avoided as if I carried a disease, I could only vent my ill humor on the guards as they escorted me through the campus.

After three days of this hell, I stood next to Irys in the great hall of the Council building, waiting for the Ixian delegation to arrive. Irys had used my lesson time to lecture me on proper Sitian protocols and diplomacy. She had refused to let me talk to her about anything other than the lecture topic. My frustration at not knowing about the search for Opal seized my chest like a vise.

The great hall was decorated with large silk banners representing each of the eleven clans and each of the Master Magicians. Hung from the ceiling, these colorful banners flowed down three stories of marble walls until they reached the floor. Tall slender windows separated the banners, allowing the sunlight to stripe the floor with gold. The Council members wore formal robes of silk, embroidered with silver thread. Irys and the other Masters wore their ceremonial robes and masks.

I remembered Irys’s hawk mask from when she had visited the Commander in Ixia, and I looked at the others with interest. Roze Featherstone, First Magician wore a blue dragon mask. Bain Bloodgood, Second Magician had donned a leopard skin mask. And a white unicorn covered Third Magician, Zitora’s face.

According to Fisk, these animals acted as the magicians’ guides through the underworld and throughout their life. They had found them while enduring the Master level test, which, from the little bits of information I could gather, seemed a horrible ordeal.

Cahil had donned the midnight-blue tunic with the silver piping that he had worn to the New Beginnings feast. The color complemented his blond hair and he looked regal despite his hard expression. Present to assess his enemy for weakness, he promised to keep quiet and not draw attention to himself; otherwise, the Council members would have banned him from the greeting ceremonies.

Fidgeting, I twisted the wide sleeves of my formal apprentice robe around my arm. Pale yellow in color, the hem of the plain cotton garment touched my feet and revealed the black sandals Zitora had given to me. I plucked at the skin on my neck and pulled at the robe’s collar.

What’s wrong? Irys asked. Her rigid posture radiated disapproval.

It was the first time since my house arrest that she had mentally communicated to me. I wanted to ignore her. My anger at her punishment still sizzled in my blood. Even now, Irys’s magic wrapped around my neck. She hadn’t been kidding when she had said she’d be watching. The power I would need to remove her magic would exhaust me, and I didn’t possess enough nerve to provoke her again.

Your leash chafes. My thoughts were cold.