Magic Study (Poison Study 2)

“Not entirely. And not everyone.”

“Who else do you smile at?”

“Irys.”

He nodded as if he had expected that answer. “Anyone else?”

My fingers touched the bump my chest made by the butterfly pendant under my shirt. Valek would get more from me than a smile. But I said, “My friends in the north.”

“The ones who taught you to fight?”

“Yes.”

“How about the person who gave you that necklace?”

I jerked my hand away. “How did you know about my necklace?” I demanded.

“It fell out while you were unconscious.”

I frowned, remembering Cahil had carried me to my room after Roze’s interrogation.

“Guess I shouldn’t have reminded you about that,” he said. “But I was right about it being a gift, wasn’t I?”

“It’s none of your business. Cahil, you’re acting like we’re friends. We’re not friends.”

The children waited for us at an intersection. I started toward them.

Cahil caught up. We walked on in silence. When we reached the Keep, I took my packages from the children and paid them each two coppers.

I grinned at Fisk, and then glanced at Cahil, feeling self-conscious about my smiles.

“See you on the next market day,” I said to Fisk. “And tell your friends they’ll each get an extra copper if they show up clean.”

He waved. I watched the group of children disappear; they probably knew all the back alleys and secret ways inside the Citadel. That knowledge might be useful one day. I would have to ask Fisk to show me.

Having grown up in the Citadel, Cahil probably knew the shortcuts, too, but I wouldn’t ask him. Not when he had such a dour expression.

“What now?” I asked.

He sighed. “Why do you always have to make things so difficult?”

“You started this. Remember? Not me.”

He shook his head. “Why don’t we start over? We’ve been at odds from the start. What can I do to receive one of your rare smiles?”

“Why do you want one? If you’re hoping that we’ll become friends and I’ll confide in you all the military secrets of Ixia, don’t bother.”

“No. That’s not what I want. I want things to be different between us.”

“Different how?”

Cahil looked around as if searching for the right words. “Better. Less hostility. Friendlier. Conversations instead of arguments.”

“After what you put me through?”

“I’m sorry, Yelena.” The words tore from his throat as if it pained him to say them. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you when you said you weren’t a spy. I’m sorry I asked First Magician to—” he swallowed. “To rape your mind.”

I turned my face away from him. “That apology is weeks old, Cahil. Why bother now?”

He sighed. “Plans are being made for the New Beginnings feast.”

Some hitch in Cahil’s voice caused me to look at him. He wrapped and unwrapped Topaz’s leather reins around his hands.

“It’s a feast to celebrate the beginning of the cooling season and the new school year. A chance for everyone to get together and start anew.” Cahil’s blue eyes searched mine. “In all these years, I have never wanted to take anyone with me. I never had anyone who I wanted to have by my side. Yet when I overheard the cooks discussing the feast’s menu this morning, your image filled my mind. Come with me, Yelena?”

14

CAHIL’S WORDS STRUCK ME like a physical blow. I jerked back a step.

His face saddened at my reaction. “I guess that’s a no. We’d probably just fight all night anyway.” He began to walk away.

“Cahil, wait,” I said, catching up to him. “You surprised me.” An understatement for sure.

I had believed that the only thing Cahil wanted from me was information about Ixia. This invitation might still be a ploy, but for the first time I saw a softness behind his eyes. I put my hand on his arm. He stopped.

“Does everyone go to this New Beginnings feast?” I asked him.

“Yes. It’s a good way for the new students to meet their teachers, and a chance for everyone to get reacquainted. I’m going because I’ll be teaching the senior and apprentice classes about horsemanship.”

“So, I’m not your first student?”

“No, but you’ve been my most stubborn one.” He smiled ruefully.

I smiled in return. Cahil’s eyes lit up.

“Okay, Cahil, in the spirit of this New Beginnings feast, let’s start over. I’m willing to accompany you to the feast as the first step in our new friendship.” Besides, the thought of going alone to meet my fellow students seemed daunting.

“Friendship?”

“That’s all I can offer.”

“Because of the person who gave you that butterfly pendant?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“And what did you give him in return?”

I wanted to snap that it was none of his business, but I controlled my temper. If we were going to be friends, he needed to know the truth. “My heart.” I could have added my body, my trust and my soul.

He looked at me for a moment. “Guess I’ll have to be content with friendship.” He grinned. “Does this mean you won’t be so difficult anymore?”

“Don’t count on it.”

He laughed and helped me carry my market purchases back to my rooms. I spent the rest of the night reading the chapters Bain had assigned, stopping on occasion to think about Cahil’s new role as friend in my life.

I enjoyed my fascinating mornings with Bain Bloodgood. Sitian history extended back for centuries. The eleven Sitian clans fought with each other for decades until Windri Greentree, a Master Magician, united them and formed the Council of Elders. I realized to my dismay, and to Bain’s delight, that I had a great deal of study ahead of me to learn the full history. And their mythology alone, populated with creatures, demons and legends, would take years of lessons to know them all.

Bain also explained the stru

cture of the school. “Every student has a magician as a mentor. That mentor oversees the student’s learning. He teaches. He guides. He schedules classes with other magicians who have more expertise in certain subjects.”

“How many students are in each class?” I asked.

Bain swept his hand through the air, indicating the room, empty except for us. We sat in an open circular chamber at the base of his tower. Books lined the walls in neat piles, and writing projects covered each of Bain’s four ink-stained work-tables. The metal rings of Bain’s astrolabe glowed in the morning sunlight.

I perched on the edge of his wide desk. Small writing tools and piles of papers rested on the top in an organized arrangement. A white seashell appeared to be his only decoration. Sitting across from me, Bain wore a deep purple robe that drank in the light. His diverse collection of robes amazed me. So far, he was the only magician I’d seen that wore a formal robe on a daily basis.

“We are a class,” he said. “There can be up to four students, but no more. You will not see rows upon rows of students listening to a lecturer in this school. We teach using hands-on learning and small groups.”

“How many students does each mentor have?”

“No more than four for those who have experience. Only one for the new magicians.”

“How many do the Master Magicians teach?” I was dreading the day when I would have to share Irys.

“Ah…” He paused. For once Bain seemed at a loss for words. “The Masters do not mentor students. We are needed in Council meetings. We aid Sitia. We recruit prospective students. But occasionally a student comes along that piques our interest.”

He gazed at me as if deciding how much he should tell me. “I have grown weary of Council meetings. So I have transferred all my energies to teaching. This year I have two students. Roze has chosen only one since she became First Magician. Zitora has none. She is adjusting; she only became a Master last year.”

“And Irys?”

“You’re her first.”

“Just me?” I asked in amazement.

He nodded.

“You said Roze chose one. Who?”