Chapter 9
Because Alandris had “important meetings,” he canceled morning lessons, and now, having returned for afternoon lessons with a horrible attitude, all the Mages wished he’d called off the entire day.
He was a strict teacher in general, but today he was letting nothing slip.
We’d transitioned to forming weapons from our magic, and when Quinn had produced a wobbly blade, Alandris had snapped it in half with his bare hands.
Since it had been Quinn as the target, I’d enjoyed watching it unfold, but I was not looking forward to having that temper directed at me, and given my shortcomings, it was bound to happen.
Elle had managed a wooden club surrounded by spirals of sharp, jagged thorns. Having mastered that in no time at all, she was now focused on getting the thorns to lash out and latch on to something when she swung the club. She was frustratingly perfect sometimes.
By comparison, my sword—in the loosest sense of the word—was a sad, pathetic excuse for a weapon.
Though far more solid than Quinn’s, it was the length and width of a letter opener.
If I had inhuman speed and precision, I might be able to jab someone in a vital spot, but slashing anything was out of the question.
In actual combat, if I ended up close enough to someone to need to use my shadowy letter opener, I’d be better off with a real dagger.
The purpose of our lesson was to create a functional weapon with reasonable range, without expending too much energy.
Imbuing it with a magical element would make it stronger than traditional metal.
When a brave Mage asked why we couldn’t hurl massive spheres of said element at our opponents, Alandris had scowled and explained the importance of conserving our magical energy.
Spheres of raw magic equaled quick exhaustion, which equaled quicker death.
The temptation to hide behind the nearby potted plant overcame me when Alandris came to inspect my progress.
Based on Elle’s whispered ‘good luck’, I knew I was about to get eaten alive.
I gave one last push to my magic in an attempt to turn my letter opener into at least a dagger-sized creation.
Nothing. I was considering dismissing it and showing nothing at all when I heard his voice behind me.
“It’s not awful,” he said in careful consideration, and with less bite than I’d expected. “It’s also not good.” There it was.
“Thank you,” I replied before my brain could recognize that was the wrong thing to say.
“You should spend more time practicing on your own. I’m sure Luelle would be happy to help you. She often tutors the other Mages who are struggling.”
What a kind way to say ‘because I don’t want to help you anymore’ and ‘you’re bad at this’.
We were to have our second private lesson the previous evening, but I received a letter canceling the session.
There had been no explanation, but the message was clear.
The investment required to train me for the potential—not guaranteed—benefit of power wasn’t worth the risk.
It was hard to blame him when I’d injured him and then promptly thereafter had a breakdown in his study.
I was annoyed, yes. He’d been kind in the moment it’d happened.
Though, I supposed it would’ve been irrationally villainous to ignore my clear distress.
I would get over it, regardless. I would’ve appreciated an honest and straightforward rejection, but at least now I didn’t have to figure out his weird, wishy-washy personality.
He could just be the asshole who’d essentially abducted me, rather than the asshole who did that and was also once inexplicably sincere.That ‘once’ had resulted in far too many hours thinking about him, rewinding and replaying all our interactions, trying to understand. What a relief that would cease.
I let my poor excuse for a dagger fade. “Great. I’ll ask Elle.”
I partnered with Elle for the remainder of the lesson, which proved fruitful.
It was nowhere near where I needed to be to keep up with the other Mages, but I’d succeeded in forming a proper dagger.
Elle had let me test it against her club, and I’d actually stabbed through the wood.
My pleasure was her dismay, as she determined her weapon was no longer solid enough to be satisfactory.
I lost her to her own machinations after that.
We were filing out of the training room when Alandris stopped me, asking me to wait to speak with him. Against my better judgment, I motioned for Elle to go on ahead of me and move back into the center of the room, nervously tapping my foot until every last Mage was gone.
“There’s something I needed to speak with you about privately,” he started, leaning back against his desk with arms folded in front of him.
“I am planning to make a public announcement to the rest of the Mages tomorrow. We will be welcoming several important guests in two weeks’ time.
They are expecting a full grand affair, so we plan to host a ball of sorts. ” He bristled at the word ‘ball’.
“Not your usual haunt, I take it?”
Alandris shook his head. “No, I’ve had more than enough of that life in my youth. I’d hoped to get away from it all in joining the Mages Consortium, but it turns out politics follow you no matter where you go.”
There was a pause between us before I spoke. “Is there a reason you’re telling me now versus tomorrow?”
“Yes.” He turned his eyes away from me. “All Mages are expected to be in attendance, except for… you.”
“Except for me,” I repeated under my breath. “We both know that means you’re telling me not to go—not that I don’t have to. So, why?”
“Your magic is too volatile right now. Until it is under control, it is best that you stay out of the public eye. The Consortium cannot afford an incident.”
I clenched my teeth. Maybe I wasn’t a ballroom and ball gowns kind of woman, but I was the kind who didn’t like being told not to do something, especially for such a pretentious reason. I could control myself perfectly fine.
“What if I want to go?”
His gaze locked onto mine. “I wasn’t asking.”
It slipped out before I could stop myself. “Why did you give up on training me?”
“I didn’t give up on training you. I told you I needed to reassess some things, and I have been dealing with our upcoming guests.”
“So I didn’t… I don’t know… freak you out? Ruin your grand plans for me? Make it not worth it?”
“By having a panic attack?”
I nodded slowly.
His eyes softened, and he pressed his lips together. “Well, you must truly hate me if you think that.”
“I—” I froze, unsure of how to respond. There were a lot of reasons to hate him, but my mind was having a hard time reconciling those reasons with the few reasons… not to.
“It doesn’t matter; we will resume your training after the ball, which, as a reminder, you are not to attend.”
“Alandris, I—”
“You’re dismissed.”
I turned on my heel and left, feeling significantly more perplexed and irritated than before our conversation.
It had gone about as well as expected. Alandris was nothing if not an enigma of hot and cold and words that never matched his expressions.
Of course, I had been the one to prod him.
I wouldn’t be making that mistake again.
I contemplated my options for the ball on my walk back to my room.
There was zero chance I wasn’t attending in some capacity.
With everyone gathered in one place, there was no better opportunity to collect information on Alandris and the Consortium.
I would hide under a table for the duration of the event if that was what it took to eavesdrop.
Luckily for me, I had one of the cleverest Mages on my side.
If anyone had a solution, it would be her.
Elle already had her nose buried in a book by the time I returned. She peeked up over the top of it when I entered, curiosity swimming in her eyes.
“What are your thoughts on a bit of mischief?”
The corner of her mouth quirked. “I do my best plotting in a warm bath with a hot cup of tea.”
“Shall we?”
According to Elle, mint stimulated the mind. Sipping on mint tea and submerging ourselves in a mint and lavender-infused bath, we began to hammer out our plan.
“You could disguise yourself,” she offered as her first idea. “There are plants we can use to dye your hair. Since it’s white, it should take the pigment fairly well. If you’re willing to go so far, we could cut it, too. It’s down to your butt. Isn’t that a pain?”
I’d never cut or dyed my hair. It had been a taboo in my village.
To protect her sanctity, we shall not alter the Saintess’s body.
I’d long since stopped following their tenants, but I’d never deliberately broken any.
It should have felt freeing, being presented with the opportunity to reclaim my autonomy, but instead, it felt wrong.
This wasn’t the way I wanted to rebel against my upbringing.
“I am sort of attached to my hair. Any other ideas?”
“We have two weeks, right?” She sunk down into the water to her shoulders.
“We could seek out a simple enchantment. There are necklaces, rings, diadems even, that can make it difficult for people to remember your image. They will see you as you are in the moment, but when they try to recall the way you looked, it will be fuzzy. So long as you avoid Alandris, and get away as fast as you can if you see him, it should work. If these guests are as important as he claims, their presence will likely keep him too occupied to search the room for you.”
That could work. There was only one issue—gold. My time on the Phoenix Heart had earned me a decent sum, but not enough to purchase something like that. “Don’t enchanted items tend to be incredibly rare and highly expensive?”
“I know a guy, and he owes me a favor.”
“Elle, you are kind of terrifying.”
She giggled. “He won’t give it to us. It would be an arrangement to borrow it for the night.”
I paused, narrowing my eyes at her. “Wait. You knew someone who had something like this, and you still suggested I cut and dye my hair?”
“I love a wonderful transformation.”
It was a good thing she was so likable. I grinned. “Why don’t you pick out my dress, then? I don’t have a penchant for fashion.”
The way her eyes lit up, I knew I had just made either the best or worst mistake of my life.
“Two days from now when we have a couple of days’ break with no lessons, you and I are going into Val’Naeris. There is a dressmaker there named Alessnae. She creates literal fabric masterpieces with her hands. If you want a dress, you want her.”
“She can finish two dresses in less than two weeks?”
“Some people use magic to destroy, and some, like Alessnae, use it to create. If there is anyone in the entire realm who can do it, it’s her. She is a true master of her craft.”
Her words echoed in my head. It had been a harmless comment, yet I felt a sting in hearing it. All you are is suffering. All you do is hurt.
“Nairu? You fall asleep?” Elle snapped her fingers to get my attention.
“Uh—no. I, um—I don’t think I’m supposed to leave the Consortium, though.”
She smirked. “I thought you were up for a little mischief?”
I had highly underestimated Elle, and I loved it.