Apprentice (The Black Mage, #2)(55)

"So glad you could finally join us, apprentice." Our leader's voice sounded anything but.

I took a seat silently by Andy who had the ghost of a smile on her lips.

With the exception of Andy I felt as though I was surrounded by a crew of silent, angry statues. Mira, Andy had told me, was the sister of the Black Mage, Marius. But that was where the similarities ended. The brother and sister were as different as night and day. According to Andy this was because Mira was determined to distance herself from her older sibling as much as possible. Andy said she suspected it was because Mira resented his status: "We Combat mages are a competitive bunch, so it's natural if we aren't the best jealousy occurs – especially in families like theirs."

"As I was just saying, apprentice, there can be no mistakes in tomorrow's mission. You and the prince will have somewhat a minor role, but it is nonetheless vital that you two stick to your assignment and do not allow emotion – or pity - to sway your actions." Our leader was alluding to last night's revelation that our prestigious mission was, in fact, a kidnapping.

For the past week and a half we had been memorizing a detailed map of Caltoth's northeastern coast, learning the expected route we would take to arrive in Dastan Cove unnoticed. We had sailed just north of it, approximately a two-day's trek from the seafaring harbor. Flint, our mysterious traveling companion, knew the territory well. From what I had gathered he had served as a sentry there before coming to Jerar. He was to be our guide. The three mages would do most of the "blood work" while Darren and I acted as scouts.

At first I had been uncomfortable. I had been prepared for battle, spying on the enemy, stealing an important document or two. Never had I ever contemplated taking a young woman, not much older than me, hostage. She wasn't a mage, not even a fighter, merely the young wife of the baron in charge of the city… Mira and Flint wouldn't even tell us why the girl was important, only that they were under Crown orders to "acquire her."

But then Mira had mentioned the word "rebels" and I had stopped worrying about the girl's life. That attack in the Red Desert's salt mines would stay with me forever, and I had only to register the haunted look in Darren's eyes to understand how important our mission really was. Jerar couldn't afford a war. If whatever this girl knew would help save innocent lives, it was well worth it.





****





It took me all of the first and second day stumbling across the cold, pine-infested mountainside to get some semblance of normalcy to my gait. Darren kept shooting me impatient glances. I was slowing our progress down and we were supposed to be the scouting party.

Eventually, we made it out of the dense trees and up a cold, frost-covered peak that Flint had told us would provide easy vantage for spotting sentries. "They will not have a full guard this far north – but you still need to be vigilant. They might have changed their routine in the year since I left. They think I'm dead, but Caltothians are overly-cautious in everything."

Trying not to wheeze too heavily, I joined Darren in his shadowed alcove and scanned the land below, willing the feeling of unsteady ground to pass. Never again would I volunteer to board a ship. All my life I had lived relatively sickness-free. The gods were clearly enjoying a good joke now that I had spent almost two weeks living out the worst humiliation – and symptoms - of my life.

"Take this." Darren held out his water skin, his eyes locked on the city below us.

I took a swig and choked on its contents. I had been expecting water – not the sweet taste of peppermint.

"It's for the nausea."

I took another swallow, and then another, letting the cold brew settle into my stomach. It brought back memories of my childhood. My parents had always given us mint tea for an after-dinner treat during the cold winter nights. I was well aware of its benefits, but I was surprised the prince had cared enough to offer it. I had almost drunk the entire contents before I realized I should save some for Darren.

"Thanks." I handed it back to him.

The prince waved the skin away. "That one was for you."

I almost dropped it. "Me?"

"I found the mint at the edge of the marsh we made camp at last night. I thought it might help."

I didn't know what to say. After two weeks of silence and short, clipped sentences this was the most Darren had spoken to me. We had never discussed my decision, and now out here, alone, away from the others – and especially after his gift - I felt a need to say something.

"Darren-"

"Don't." His words were tired, and for the first time I thought I detected some bitterness. "You made the right decision, Ryiah. Let's just leave it at that."

But I didn't want to. I bit my tongue and tried to focus on the brightly lit port just past the rocky shores below us. In Caltoth even its coastline was a much colder, much different kind of port than the one we had come from.

The city's harbor was twice the size of Langli. I could immediately understand why Darren had called it the wealthiest nation. Most of the buildings in Jerar consisted of timber frames with moderately thatched roofs; below, all I saw was brick: house after house and shop after shop of brick, sturdy walls and heavy curtained windows (a luxury that only a king's palace or lord's castle could usually afford), wide cobblestone paths marking every direction of street, and torches at every corner housed by giant stone pillars.