The Black Mage: Candidate by Rachel E. Carter Page B

around now to try and catch up to Sir Gavin’s group to the north, or rest for the night. Knowing how sinister the terrain could turn without the sun’s rays to guide us, I was in favor of the latter.
    “Mages, would you mind collecting the firewood?”
    Now that we were down to fifty, the soldiers needed help with the tasks a hundred usually accomplished without the mages’ and knights’ aid. I didn’t mind. It gave me something to do, and I needed a distraction. I grabbed one of the soldier’s empty sacks and Ian and Paige followed suit, the three of us scouting the west side of the trail while Alchemy and Restoration took the east.
    “Everything is wet,” Paige complained after ten minutes of fruitless searching. “It’s so shaded here the dew stays on everything. Nothing is dry, look…” She snagged a branch in passing and attempted to split it—revealing a fresh-looking center that did not want to break. “I hope the others are having better luck.”
    “There’s some light over there.” Ian pointed to some brush in the distance that looked more aged than the rest of the forest. “Come on.”
    The two of us trudged after him, pushing past an assault of dense bramble to reach it. By the time we emerged on the other side I had small red lines all across my arms.
    They itched like crazy.
    Lovely, just lovely . I scratched my bare skin and made a face at nothing in particular. Service in Ferren’s Keep Regiment was nothing like what I imagined. After an action-packed apprenticeship I had expected danger; so far this forest plant was the closest enemy I had encountered.
    I kicked out at the nearest shrub with a vengeance and then swore as my foot collided against a large rock beneath.
    “Ryiah?”
    I looked up to catch Ian watching me with a cautious expression. A couple feet away Paige was pointedly ignoring us both, breaking off branches one at a time.
    I made my face blank as I held the sack open for my guard. “It’s nothing.”
    “Are you sure?” Ian stopped what he was doing. “You’ve been acting as though something has been bothering you all day.”
    Why deny it? He already knew something was wrong. “The others were talking about me.”
    Silence.
    I picked up a piece of wood from the ground and yelped as my finger caught on its splintered bark. I yanked my hand away and plucked the infinitely small shard from my skin, watching as a small bead of red settled onto the surface. “Everyone thinks Nyx only offered me the position here because of my new status,” I added.
    Ian didn’t look surprised. “I heard.”
    Thanks for sticking up for me. “Why didn’t you correct them?” I swallowed and forced myself to ask the question I’d been secretly wondering since I arrived. “Are we… are you mad at me?”
    “Ryiah.” Ian folded his arms across his chest. “This has nothing to do with our past. Me saying something wouldn’t change the facts. You are a lowborn who received second-rank status on the same night the prince told his father he was to marry you instead.” The boy took the now-brimming sack from my hands and set his own empty one in its place. “What is everyone supposed to think?”
    “Darren didn’t ask Byron to do that.” I felt frustration working its way to the surface and swallowed hard, forcing the anger back. “I earned my rank, Ian, you know that!”
    “Yes,” the boy said with a sigh, “and how convenient it was that Master Byron decided to have a change of heart the year of your ascension.”
    “It’s not my fault Marius finally talked some sense into the old man!” I felt as if I had taken a punch to the gut. This was Ian. Ian . My former friend, or so I had thought. Maybe he was still mad. Maybe he hadn’t forgiven me after all.
    “Why am I being punished for impressing the Black Mage? Why am I being put down for catching Nyx’s eye after I saved her regiment? Why does my new status have to mean anything here? I have proven myself time and time