Chapter 5 #3
Tabi threw back her shoulders, pride shining in her gold-flecked eyes as she glanced at Lory for a split second, while in the background, the Master of Steel continued his list until he arrived at, “Seine, Brycon,” and, “Vednis, Elory.”
Again, he lifted his hand, and Lory’s skin heated the slightest bit where the fabric of her shirt melted from black to gray on the outer edge of her shoulder, just by the seam of the sleeve; then a thin blue frame stitched itself around the square now decorating what she assumed was her uniform—even two sizes too large.
Two more times did the Master of Steel repeat the procedure, sorting over thirty ashlings into each color, until the front rows were marked in red, green, blue, yellow, and purple.
“Ashlings are dismissed to follow the lines on the ground. You’ll receive instructions.”
“It’s true,” Tabi whispered with surreal delight, pointing at the colorful lines forming beneath their feet as the first rows of formation dissolved. “They actually paint the soil with magic.”
Before Lory could think about what exactly that meant, Thal tapped her shoulder—“Blue.”—and led the way along the blue line appearing directly in front of them.
Tabi and Lory followed, Frost right behind them as they headed for one of five doors at the side of the yard where the pyramid blocked the view.
Sucking in a deep breath of morning air, Lory tried to orient herself.
The sun stood still low in the east, and the pyramid was northwest of the yard, but without the help of another landmark, she couldn’t possibly tell if this was anywhere near the city.
What she could tell, though, was that she was two levels above where she’d woken up, and it took her exactly two minutes and seven seconds to get back to the bathing room where she’d washed off the dirt and blood of the Dunaii streets.
That sort of sense of orientation even the most brutal academy in Brestolya couldn’t take away from a street rat veteran.
They followed a corridor with stripes of soft light lining the ceiling, the same kind Lory had seen the night before in the bathing room.
Magic, she assumed, because the blue line running along the corridor seemed to be more or less of the same making.
A three-minute walk later, the line ended in a room large enough to fit at least double the number of ashlings.
“Where’s Ricca?” Brycon asked as they waited for leadership to show up.
“Yellow.” Thal examined the square on his shoulder with intense interest. “How do they do that?”
“Magic,” Tabi suggested, a patronizing expression on her face that made Lory almost grin.
“Very funny.” Thal tugged on the insignia while Lory studied the layout of the room.
Three windows, all on the east, but no view on anything other than the same high walls enclosing the courtyard.
The door they’d entered through seemed to be the only door.
Smooth limestone floors and walls, and no furniture but the pedestal at the other end of the room, where Frost was standing with a guy Lory believed was Ronan Dray.
No easy escape route with the long hallways connecting everything, and most of all, she had no idea where to even find an exit.
The murmur in the room died alongside her thoughts when a middle-aged man with short, grizzled hair and a lean frame, and a tall, athletic woman with a reddish-brown bun at the back of her head entered the room, both of them wearing a silver hand on the breast of their uniforms. The same functional black fabric as the ashlings’ clothes but more similar in cut to what the Masters of Veils and Steel wore.
“Good morning, ashlings,” the man said, climbing onto the pedestal in swift, powerful steps.
“I’m Hand Dunveil. I’ve been leading blue for the past seven years and have the honor to do so again this year.
This”—he gestured at the woman standing next to him, her slitted eyes on the group of ashlings like she expected them to attack at any moment—“is Hand Sil. She’s the best combat instructor you can get at Ashthorn, so consider yourselves lucky you ended up in blue.
When not in the presence of higher leadership, you’ll answer to me or Hand Sil.
” He paused to make sure the message sank in.
“For the ones among you who haven’t heard much about this academy before you joined, the colors have no meaning. You were randomly assigned to them and will be staying in your color until you ascend to thornling.
“During your time at Ashthorn, you’ll be trained in six disciplines: Steel, Veiled, Elixir, Medica, Knowledge, and Gild.
You’ll meet your respective instructors throughout the next weeks, but you’ll start tomorrow morning with Hand Sil.
Now drag your asses down the blue line to your new quarters. Time for single bedrooms is over.”
Just like that, Hand Dunveil stepped off the pedestal and disappeared through another hidden door at the side of the room.
While the ashlings at the front of the room were talking excitedly about starting their training, Lory glanced at the closing door, Thal and Tabi standing a few steps aside, discussing hand-to-hand combat tactics they studied.
“At least, there’s no bell this time,” Lory muttered to herself, ready to take the first full breath since she’d left the mess hall.
“No bell.” She almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of a familiar, rich, velvet baritone from close behind her. “But you’ll get another chance tomorrow at breakfast.”
Turning on her heels, she found herself face to face with Captain Falcrest, his gray eyes peering down at her like daggers made of ice, and her skin heated as he scanned her from head to toe like she was a threat. On instinct, her hand wandered to her hip, grasping thin air.
How he’d snuck up on her like that was beyond her.
Usually, Lory was the one to do that, stalking the streets of Dunai on silent feet, but the rules of the streets didn’t apply in here, and Captain Falcrest seemed to have made it his mission to remind her she wasn’t unobserved for even a minute.
She’d need to watch what she said and where she walked; by Eroth, she’d even need to be careful what she thought.
Who knew what sort of magic was going around in this prison of an academy?
“Now hop along, Gutter Gem. You don’t want to keep your friends waiting.”
Lory merely glanced over her shoulder to make sure the others were still there. When she turned back, Falcrest was gone.