back to her bed, and dropped onto it with a satisfied huff.
Kara settled against her own pillow, kicking her boots off. She did not bother with her clothes. As she pulled the thin linen sheet over her body, she considered Jair’s warning with new eyes.
A man with nothing to lose is most dangerous of all.
Aryn had finished his studies, which meant Sera was done tutoring him. Which meant they were done seeing each other. Kara had always suspected Aryn might be sweet on Sera, and what she’d learned tonight confirmed it. That boastful idiot loved her.
Kara knew Aryn had never told Sera how he felt. Sera would have mentioned it. Now he was heading home to Locke while Sera stayed at Solyr, and as ridiculous as it seemed, he likely blamed Kara for that. For taking him from Sera.
Had Aryn really thought winning the post of royal apprentice would simply allow him to sweep Sera off her feet? Did he really think she would toss aside Byn so easily, toss aside the man she was planning to marry? Was he really that much of a fool?
Kara remained awake long after Sera slept. She kept replaying the events of the day, along with Jair’s grim warning, until Sera’s enhancement drained away. Then she couldn’t replay anything. A rush of exhaustion hit her all at once and Kara slipped into sleep.
The Tellvan man waited there, face covered in blood.
Chapter 7
TRELL FORCED HIS EYES open and blinked against bright light. It hurt. The scent of cinnamon and incense filled his nose. His lids felt heavy, weighted by sleep. He heard someone talking, a whisper that grew to a murmur that grew into words.
“… all right. It’s all right. It’s all right.”
White faded to gray, then to blurry vision, and then Trell saw an older woman in a white robe gripping his arm.
“You are safe,” the woman said. Gray hair made a ponytail at the back of her head, but she was otherwise bald. “You’re in a healing room in the Magic Academy of Solyr.”
Trell did not feel safe — he was not sure what he felt, having opened his eyes in a room he knew nothing about — but he knew he reclined on a soft bed. The room had brown walls, and aged cedar lined the ceiling. Two strange blue torches lit it with white light.
Trell ran his fingers across soft cloth pants, over a bare chest wrapped in bandages. His head pounded and his lungs ached, and he had no idea why they would. He could not remember where he was or how he had come here, but that was far from the worst of it.
He could not remember who he was.
“I need you to focus, to think.” The woman released his arm. “Can you understand me?”
“Who are you?” Trell didn’t recognize his own voice.
“I am Senior Mender Landra. I’ve helped heal your wounds.”
“You said … this is a magic academy?”
“Yes. You will be weak for another day, but you will live.”
Trell swallowed a knife of pain and searched for any memory of his life, anything other than these four walls. Did he have family, friends? Did he have anyone waiting for him at home? Where was home? He could not answer these questions and that made his heart pound. He could not live like this, unable to remember who he was.
“How did I get here?” It was the least of his questions.
“One of our initiates found and brought you to us. You were stung by a grayback. Do you know how that happened?”
Trell remembered the ring of steel on steel, rough sand tearing at his skin, but nothing about graybacks. He knew they were wolves, but could not recall if he had ever seen one. He clenched his hands, closed his eyes, and tried not to scream.
“Do you remember your name?” Landra asked.
“My name is … Trell.” He knew that, and that gave him hope there could be more hidden inside him. More facts. More memories. He made that calm his pounding heart.
“From where do you hail?”
Trell didn’t answer. He didn’t know. “What happened to my head?”
“Your clothes were soaked with water. It came from the Layn
Kara settled against her own pillow, kicking her boots off. She did not bother with her clothes. As she pulled the thin linen sheet over her body, she considered Jair’s warning with new eyes.
A man with nothing to lose is most dangerous of all.
Aryn had finished his studies, which meant Sera was done tutoring him. Which meant they were done seeing each other. Kara had always suspected Aryn might be sweet on Sera, and what she’d learned tonight confirmed it. That boastful idiot loved her.
Kara knew Aryn had never told Sera how he felt. Sera would have mentioned it. Now he was heading home to Locke while Sera stayed at Solyr, and as ridiculous as it seemed, he likely blamed Kara for that. For taking him from Sera.
Had Aryn really thought winning the post of royal apprentice would simply allow him to sweep Sera off her feet? Did he really think she would toss aside Byn so easily, toss aside the man she was planning to marry? Was he really that much of a fool?
Kara remained awake long after Sera slept. She kept replaying the events of the day, along with Jair’s grim warning, until Sera’s enhancement drained away. Then she couldn’t replay anything. A rush of exhaustion hit her all at once and Kara slipped into sleep.
The Tellvan man waited there, face covered in blood.
Chapter 7
TRELL FORCED HIS EYES open and blinked against bright light. It hurt. The scent of cinnamon and incense filled his nose. His lids felt heavy, weighted by sleep. He heard someone talking, a whisper that grew to a murmur that grew into words.
“… all right. It’s all right. It’s all right.”
White faded to gray, then to blurry vision, and then Trell saw an older woman in a white robe gripping his arm.
“You are safe,” the woman said. Gray hair made a ponytail at the back of her head, but she was otherwise bald. “You’re in a healing room in the Magic Academy of Solyr.”
Trell did not feel safe — he was not sure what he felt, having opened his eyes in a room he knew nothing about — but he knew he reclined on a soft bed. The room had brown walls, and aged cedar lined the ceiling. Two strange blue torches lit it with white light.
Trell ran his fingers across soft cloth pants, over a bare chest wrapped in bandages. His head pounded and his lungs ached, and he had no idea why they would. He could not remember where he was or how he had come here, but that was far from the worst of it.
He could not remember who he was.
“I need you to focus, to think.” The woman released his arm. “Can you understand me?”
“Who are you?” Trell didn’t recognize his own voice.
“I am Senior Mender Landra. I’ve helped heal your wounds.”
“You said … this is a magic academy?”
“Yes. You will be weak for another day, but you will live.”
Trell swallowed a knife of pain and searched for any memory of his life, anything other than these four walls. Did he have family, friends? Did he have anyone waiting for him at home? Where was home? He could not answer these questions and that made his heart pound. He could not live like this, unable to remember who he was.
“How did I get here?” It was the least of his questions.
“One of our initiates found and brought you to us. You were stung by a grayback. Do you know how that happened?”
Trell remembered the ring of steel on steel, rough sand tearing at his skin, but nothing about graybacks. He knew they were wolves, but could not recall if he had ever seen one. He clenched his hands, closed his eyes, and tried not to scream.
“Do you remember your name?” Landra asked.
“My name is … Trell.” He knew that, and that gave him hope there could be more hidden inside him. More facts. More memories. He made that calm his pounding heart.
“From where do you hail?”
Trell didn’t answer. He didn’t know. “What happened to my head?”
“Your clothes were soaked with water. It came from the Layn
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