Apprentice (The Black Mage, #2)(67)

Darren ducked under a nearby willow and dragged me behind him.

"Darren – what are you doing?"

Darren put a finger to my lips, eyes dancing wickedly. "But did I kiss Priscilla like this?"

When he had finished I was light-headed and the two of us were breathing quite heavily.

Darren released me, staggering backward with a groan. "By the gods, I forgot what that was like."

I just stared at him, unable to speak. How was it that I could have ever thought I'd be happy with Ian? Never once had I felt like that with the fourth-year.

"I guess I should take you on this tour before someone spots us." Darren's eyes fell back to my mouth and a wicked smile played across his lips. "If we stay here any longer, I'm afraid I won't make a very convincing grandmother."

My whole body was a quivering mess. I didn't want to do anything but grab Darren and let him make good on that threat. I didn't care if we were caught. I didn't want to stop this time. I wanted to… What was I thinking? Was I mad? Focus Ryiah!

I swallowed quickly. "Right, let's take that tour shall we… Gran?"

Darren noticed my hesitation and grinned. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure!" The words came out much higher than I had intended.

Darren chuckled. "Alright then, let's start with the kennels – there's someone I want you to meet."





****





"So you are the girl who's put that dopey smile on his face." A large man with a gruff voice missing three front teeth beamed down at me. "'Course I shuda known that it could never be that other one. His highness has never once taken her to meet Wolf."

Darren rolled his eyes. "Just because I smile, Heath, doesn't make Ryiah special."

I elbowed the prince in his stomach and he grinned. "Well, maybe a little."

"So who is 'Wolf?'" I pressed. I hardly knew anything about Darren's life in the palace, and I was curious to find out who this person was.

The man chortled. "Not who. What." He led Darren and I through the building's doors to a large enclosure where twenty hounds relaxed on comfortable oak panels. A second set of steps led up to a second platform where even more of them slept. Against the wall were large metal bins for food and water, and another large door led to a grassy pasture where the dogs could roam during certain hours while the servants supervised. The falconry house was just a bit beyond and I could hear the angry bird cries across the room.

"Is Wolf a hound?" I asked nervously. A hole had formed in the pit of my stomach. I forced myself to ignore it.

At the mention of his name a thin, shaggy coated mutt lifted its head from the middle of the pack. Unlike the sleek, muscled palace hounds, this animal was clearly not used for the hunt. It was scrawny with gray matted fur and timid brown eyes peeking out of the long gray hairs that practically covered its face. It didn't look dangerous, but then old man Crawley's dog hadn't either.

"Come here, boy."

I turned quickly to look at Darren - the tone he had used to call Wolf forward was so different from what he usually used that I almost couldn't believe it had come from him.

Darren didn't notice; he had already hopped the enclosure and was busy embracing the mutt who had suddenly sprung to life and launched himself into his master's arms. The dog was yipping and thumping its tail so loudly that fur was coating the air beside him.

A sense of foreboding filled my chest. I knew what was coming next.

Darren glanced back at me. "Are you coming, Ryiah?"

I hesitated for a moment. Maybe. Maybe I could do this. I took a step forward and gripped the gate's handle, my knuckles white with trepidation. One of the hounds trotted forward to sniff at my fingers and I jumped back, retreating to where Heath stood a couple feet away from the gates. My hands were slick with sweat and I wiped them nervously against the skirt of my dress.

"I – I can't." My throat was dry and the words came out scratchy and odd – like I was choking on sand.

Darren frowned. "What do you mean you can't?"

"I mean…" I clenched and unclenched my fists anxiously. "I just can't, Darren."

"Ryiah." Something about the prince's voice made me look up. "Are you afraid of dogs?"

I forced myself to hold his gaze. "When Derrick was five, one of them attacked him. I was only eight. We'd both grown up playing with our neighbor's dog Bo and then one day it just turned." My breath hitched and I made myself breathe out more slowly. "It was terrible. Crawley had to – he couldn't call Bo off – he had to… And then Derrick had to spend two weeks being treated – we, um, we couldn't afford a healer so it was up to my parents to tend to his leg… It's fine, now, but I – ever since that I just..."

Darren hadn't once taken his eyes off me the whole time I was talking. Now he straightened and approached the gate's entrance with Wolf trailing behind. When he reached the edge of the enclosure, he rested his arm on the top of the barrier's railing. "Ryiah, I want you to come here."

I stared at him, wide-eyed. "You are mad if you think that I'm going inside."

"Ryiah," he said patiently. "You want to be a warrior mage. Facing your fears is part of that."