I quote Master Brogal’s favorite saying. “Sometimes the Bone Throwers get it wrong.”
Marcus frowns.
“Sorry. Ignore me…” What’s wrong with me? I will not let my mood dampen this win just because I can’t see myself in his future. “When are you going?”
“I’d be ready to ride tomorrow, but we have to wait for the new crescent moon. At least, that’s what the Bone Thrower said. Mind the protocols.”
I look to the west, but the dark moon has set with the sun. “In three days?” The truth of it hardens in my heart like a brick. “That’s cutting it close.”
“We’ll make it.”
There he is with that we again, when he knows it’s never going to happen. He’ll go to Aku, and rightly so, to earn his yellow robes—doing whatever trials and tests are deemed necessary for warriors. It’s rigorous and not all initiates will pass, but that’s all I know. The trials, like so much of Aku, are shrouded in secrecy. Even the savants who have gone and returned are close-lipped about it. Something about honoring the traditions.
Anyway, after that, he’ll return to Baiseen to take up his duties as Heir. I, on the other hand…well, I can’t get any answer from Brogal about my future.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Tonight is not about me. “Who will accompany you?” My voice catches and those blasted tears slip free because my dream of Aku is over. “Ash…” He brushes my cheek, his smile crooked. He knows me well enough not to coddle, which would only make tears run in earnest. “I’ve asked Larseen, of course, as my guard.”
Right. Larseen and Marcus have been friends since brown-robes, training together almost every day since. Lars took his initiate journey last year and came back a yellow-robe. I thought Marcus would be jealous, but he has nothing but respect for Larseen.
“And Piper as my healer.”
“That’s perfect. Her third journey to Aku, so she knows the way. Who else?”
“Samsen will come as a second guard.”
“Good choice, and I’m happy for Piper.” Those two are inseparable.
Marcus grins at me. “I’ll need a recorder.”
Any spirits I have left drain away . The recorder is the wordsmith responsible for narrating the initiation journey and the events upon Aku, their scripts are later bound into a book and kept in the library for all to read. It is the job I’ve dreamed of doing for Marcus, when his time came. I have proficient skills as a scribe and have studied the laws of the realms, the languages, and histories. But with no acknowledged standing from Master Brogal, they would never approve of me.
So as much as this is a dream come true for Marcus, it is the end of mine. Passage to Aku is only for savant initiates and their company. Not for the likes of me.
“Still, he should have the best wordsmith recording.”
Indeed.
“I recommend Allenren,” I say, my feelings contained. Mostly. “He’s from Tangeen. Raises a caller, and you know your father’s on a campaign to reinforce ties there.”
“Uh-huh.” Marcus nods. His thumbs brush my cheeks again. “Allenren’s fine, but he’s not who I want.”
“Don’t choose Greker.” I sniffle. “The least little thing goes wrong and—”
“I agree. Not him.”
“That leaves Katren or one of her yellow-robe apprentices.”
“Excellent suggestions, but I don’t think so.”
His expression blurs before me, and I give in and swipe my eyes against my sleeve. “Who, then?”
Marcus leans close, his breath apple-sweet and warm on my cheek. “I want you, Ash.”
Warmth floods through me for all of two seconds. Then I turn and punch him hard.
“Ouch!”
“Don’t tease! You know it’s not possible.”
He rubs his arm and grimaces. “I thought you’d be happy.”
I’m off the bench and facing him. “Look at me, Marcus. What do you see?”
“You, barefoot as usual, to start,” he says, still rubbing his arm.
“That’s not what I meant!”
He makes a show of further appraisal. “I see my favorite teal-eyed girl… Well, your eyes are red tonight. As are your cheeks—only a few shades lighter than your hair.”
“Keep it up.” I raise my fist.
He talks right over me. “And while we’re on the hair, I liked it better long.”
“Nobody asked you,” I huff. “Besides, you’re completely missing the point.”
“Which is?” He leans back against the bench.
“Dog stuggs for brains, Marcus, have you forgotten I’m non-savant?”
“I haven’t forgotten you can curse like an Aturnian sailor. That won’t be going in the records, I trust.”
“It’s a Sierrak curse,” I correct him without thinking. “And I’m telling you, they won’t let me go.”
He pulls me back beside him and digs a handkerchief out of his robe pocket. It’s an embroidered handkerchief—of course it is—and here I sit with dirt on my feet. “Ash, we promised we’d journey to Aku together. Remember?”
I blow my nose loudly in response.
“You swore an oath to set foot on every realm in Amassia. This is your chance for Aku.”
“You don’t have to convince me to come along. I want to go. I’ve always wanted to go, but my guardian—”
“Brogal?”
“Yes, Master Brogal, the High Savant of Baiseen.” I emphasize his titles. “He has to clear it. I can’t even get him to talk about my future as a wordsmith!”
Marcus grins stupidly, and I’m tempted to punch him again. “Ash, you’re coming to Aku as my recorder. That’s all there is to say.”
“Your father will forbid it, too.”
He taps my nose like I’m a puppy. “Don’t underestimate me. I’m Heir to the Throne of Baiseen, and I just contained the realm’s only warrior phantom.”
His heartbeat is strong against my ear. Steady and sure. “Meaning?”
“If I were you, I’d start packing.”
5
Marcus
Even as I pack my bags and hear the music echoing from the courtyard below, part of me can hardly believe it’s real.