Roze had encouraged Cahil. They held the same belief that it was just a matter of time before Commander Ambrose set his sights on conquering Sitia.
“Cahil could bypass the plains to get to the plateau,” Zitora Cowan, Third Magician, offered. Her honey-brown eyes held concern, but as the youngest of the four Master Magicians her suggestions tended to be ignored by the others.
“Then how would this Moon Man know? The Sandseeds don’t venture out of the plains unless it’s absolutely necessary,” Roze said.
“That’s what they want us to believe,” Irys said. “I wouldn’t put it past them to have a few scouts around.”
“Either way,” Bain Bloodgood, Second Magician, said, “we must consider all options. Obvious or not, someone needs to confirm that Cahil and Ferde are not in the plateau.” With his white hair and flowing robes, Bain’s appearance matched what I had assumed to be a traditional magician’s uniform. Wisdom radiated from his wrinkled face.
“I’m going,” I declared.
“We should send soldiers with her,” Zitora said.
“Leif should go,” Bain added. “As cousins of the Sandseed, Yelena and Leif will be welcomed in the plains.”
Roze ran her slender fingers along the short white strands of her hair and frowned, appearing to be deep in thought. With the colder temperatures, Roze had stopped wearing the sleeveless dresses she preferred and exchanged them for long-sleeved gowns. The deep navy hue of the garment absorbed the light and almost matched her dark skin. Moon Man had the same skin tone, and I wondered what color his hair would be if he hadn’t shaved it off.
“I’m not sending anyone,” Roze finally said. “It’s a waste of time and resources.”
“I’m going. I don’t need your permission.” I stood, preparing to leave.
“You need my permission to exit the Keep,” Roze said. “This is my domain. I’m in charge of all magicians, including you, Soulfinder.” Her hands smacked her chair’s arms. “If I had control of the Council, you would be taken to the Keep’s cells to await execution. No good has ever come from a Soulfinder.”
The other Masters gaped at Roze in shock. She remained incensed. “Just look at our history. Every Soulfinder has craved power. Magical power. Political power. Power over people’s souls. Yelena will be no different. Sure now she plays at being a Liaison and has agreed to my training. It’s only a matter of time. Already …” Roze gestured to the doorway. “Already she wants to run off before I can begin lesson one.”
Her words echoed through the stunned silence. Roze glanced around at their horrified expressions and smoothed the wrinkles from her gown. Her dislike of me was well-known, but this time she had gone too far.
“Roze, that was quite—”
She raised her hand, stopping Bain from the rest of his lecture. “You know the history. You have been warned many, many times, so I will say no more about it.” She rose from her seat. Towering a good seven inches above me, she peered down. “Go, then. Take Leif with you. Consider it your first lesson. A lesson in futility. When you return, you’ll be mine.”
Roze made to leave, but I caught a thread of her thoughts in my mind.
… should keep her occupied and out of my way.
Roze paused before she exited. Looking over her shoulder, she gave me a pointed stare. Keep out of Sitia’s affairs. And you might be the only Soulfinder in history to live past the age of twenty-five.
Go take another look at your history books, Roze, I said. The demise of a Soulfinder is always reported along with the death of a Master Magician.
Roze ignored me as she left the meeting room, ending the session.
I went to find Leif. His quarters were near the apprentice’s wing on the east side of the Keep’s campus. He lived in the Magician’s building, which housed those who had graduated from the Keep and were now either teaching new students or working as aides to the Master Magicians.
The rest of the magicians who had also completed the curriculum were assigned to different towns to serve the citizens of Sitia. The Council tried to have a healer in every town, but the magicians with rare powers—like the ability to read ancient languages or find lost items—moved from place to place as needed.
Magicians with strong powers took the Master-level test before leaving the Keep. In the past twenty years, only Zitora had passed, bringing the number of Masters to four. In Sitia’s history, there never had been more than four Masters at one time.
Irys thought a Soulfinder could be strong enough to take the Master’s test. I disagreed. They already had the maximum, and I lacked the basic magical skills of lighting fires and moving objects—skills all the Masters possessed.
Besides, being a Soulfinder was bad enough, having to endure and fail the Master test would be too much to bear. Or so I guessed. The rumors about the test sounded horrific.
Before I even reached Leif’s door, it swung open and my brother stuck his head out. The rain soaked his short black hair in an instant. I shooed him back as I hurried into his living room, dripping muddy slush onto his clean floor.
His apartment was tidy and sparsely furnished. The only hint of his personality could be gleaned from the few paintings that decorated the room. A detailed rendering of a rare Ylang-Ylang flower indigenous to the Illiais Jungle, a painting of a strangler fig suffocating a dying mahogany tree and a picture of a tree leopard crouched on a branch hung on his walls.
Leif scanned my bedraggled appearance with resignation. His jade-colored eyes were the only feature that matched my own. His stocky body and square jaw were the complete opposite of my oval face and thin build.
“It can’t be good news,” Leif said. “I’d doubt you would brave the weather just to say hello.”
“You opened the door before I could knock,” I said. “You must know something’s up.”
Leif wiped the rain from his face. “I smelled you coming.”
“Smelled?”
“You reek of Lavender. Do you bathe in Mother’s perfume or just wash your cloak with it?” he teased.
“How mundane. I was thinking of something a little more magical.”
“Why waste the energy on using magic when you don’t have to? Although …”
Leif’s eyes grew distant and I felt the slight tingle of power being pulled.
“Apprehension. Excitement. Annoyance. Anger,” Leif said. “I take it the Council hasn’t voted to make you Queen of Sitia yet?”
When I didn’t answer, he said, “Don’t worry, little sister, you’re still the princess of our family. We both know Mother and Father love you best.”
His words held an edge, and I remembered it hadn’t been long since he had wanted to see me dead.
“Esau and Perl love us equally. You really do need me around to correct your misconceptions. I’ve proved you wrong before. I can do it again.”
Leif put his hands on his hips and raised one dubious eyebrow.
“You said I was afraid to come back to the Keep. Well—” I spread my arms wide, flinging drops of water onto Leif’s green tunic “—here I am.”
“You are here. I’ll grant you that. But are you unafraid?”
“I already have a mother and a Story Weaver. Your job is to be the annoying older brother. Stick to what you know.”
“Ohhh. I’ve hit a nerve.”