First Apprentice

Chapter 28 Part 2

Kevin's laughter sounded hollow. He flinched when I brushed against a thumb-sized knot, muscles quivering under my fingertips as he forced himself to hold still.

"Rena happened."

"Who's Rena?" I asked, keeping him talking while I pulled the foreign magic out of the wound. Black threads traced the red lines then plied themselves around them. I twisted my hand in a figure-eight, winding the magic around my thumb and index finger like twine. "Well?" I prompted.

"Mitra's apprentice. What are you doing?"

"Neutralizing the magic. As long as the skin isn't broken, senteris injuries will eventually heal on their own, but they take three times longer even with seals. That is the first thing I learned after Aunt Sumati switched me over. Unless they're life-threatening, she expects me to tend my own injuries. I've had a lot of practice." The red faded to pink then disappeared altogether. "Why did Rena do this?"

"One of her men challenged me. The fight was scheduled for the morning after your summon. Evening the odds, she called it." Silence settled over us, interrupted only by Kevin hissing when I brushed against the bruise. "Rena hates me," he admitted softly. "All the apprentices do except Luis."

I raised an eyebrow, silently reminding him that I was an apprentice.

"You're not really an apprentice. At least, Terry isn't treating you like one." He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, picking at the ragged hem of his tunic. "Terry wouldn't assign the others to hold a training gate. Maybe Luis in a few years, not yet though."

"Why?" I asked, rubbing at a stubborn ink streak with my thumb.

"Graduating the academy early made me a lot of enemies. The Seven like prodigies. Those under them don't. Apprentice seats don't have a minimum age, but the other positions do. I spent almost ten years teaching before I was old enough to join the Sealer Corps. I swapped corps the same day I came of age. I love seals and strategy. I wanted to learn more and hone my skills, but they didn't want me. They shunted me from one legion to another until my commander found a legitimate excuse to kill me. He died. Diane, who's as bloodthirsty as they come, witnessed the fight and promoted me to candidate on the spot.

"I hoped the candidates would be different. It was worse. Then Rena ordered me to attack a Huxian Patrol — an unprovoked attack on a superior force in an open field. It had suicide mission written all over it. Either I died facing the patrol or Terry executed me for breaking our treaty with the Huxian Clan. I knocked her out with the pommel of my sword, dragged her back to camp, and reported her insanity to Mitra. Next thing I know she's telling the Seven a sob story and my team's transferred to Terry. Pa never asked, but I think he knows there's more to the story because Ma stopped inviting Rena to dinner."

"I thought your father," I trailed off and bit my lip. Kevin's recorded family history was notably sparse. Marstow mother, Dracon father. Mother died. Father discovered his son was a weakling, his words, and signed over custody to the Border Guard. Another unwanted child.

"Simon and Emile. Pa and Ma." Kevin wound a stray thread around his finger absently then he squared his shoulders and looked me in the eye. "The most important things about us aren't written in a file. We are not Terry's candidates, never were. We are Dev's Misfits. When a sealer transfers to our unit, they swear a blood oath to not betray their team. We live as a team, work as a team, and die as a team. It's how we survive. We have dugouts in the foothills at the maximum teleportation distance we can manage. We live there, not the apartments. Too many have died there under mysterious circumstances, normally when they approach apprentice level. The same applies to the healers. One dugout per team with a common bath we cobbled together. It's basic, but we control the wards. It keeps us alive."

Interesting and potentially problematic. By not living in their assigned suites, the team leaders opened themselves, and therefore me, up to all sorts of accusations ranging from hygiene complaints to murder charges if they used lethal wards without posting any warnings.

My magic trailed over his skin, testing each stubborn ink spot. One glowed yellow then sputtered out. After adding more alcohol to the bandage, I pressed it onto the ink spot and held it. The old seal stretched from Kevin's breastbone, underneath his armpit and halfway around his back. Although he could scrub part of it, he'd never reach the entire thing and I preferred testing it myself. If it didn't react to my magic, it wouldn't to his.

"Help me understand something," I said. "How do they schedule a challenge? Do they keep the possible challengers separated until the scheduled time and then see if the magic takes?"

"What magic?"

I frowned. That question sounded eerily similar to Kevin's answer when I asked them to rate their abilities with their clan magics. He called Simon, the Seven's second seat, Pa. Why didn't Simon, a false Dracon lord, teach his foster son about aes and challenges and all the other things I learned from my family? "The compulsion. They challenge you for dominance, your instincts accept, and the magic compels you to fight until the other party either dies or submits."

"They don't exactly work like that anymore."

"Then how do they work?"

"The challenger submits a form to their apprentice, the apprentice forwards it to Mitra's administrator of the month, they arrange a referee and schedule the fight, then send the challenged party a letter with the time, place, and challenger's name."

Laughter bubbled up as I imagined the look on Endellion's face if someone challenged her via form letter. If I didn't think she'd forcibly feed it to me, I'd try it just for laughs. Kevin tensed under my fingertips, muscles quivering and breath rapid. I sobered. To him, this wasn't a laughing matter. It was deadly serious. "I was laughing at the system, not you. From now on, our office uses the charter's definition of a challenge."

"What about ones they've already scheduled? I have two next week; Tylar one; Maria three."

"No challenges unless the magic takes. I don't care when they scheduled it, why they issued it, or if they invited their grandmother to come watch. If they don't like it, they're welcome to take it up with me. Did the healers know?" I asked.

I set ink-stained bandage aside, picked up the first seal, and unfolded it.

"Hold this," I said, handing it to him. "On the edges. Don't smudge it."

"Dev numbed it."

A nonanswer. Instead of calling him on it, I changed the subject. "My magic hates healers."

I dug a claw into the cork on the glycerin bottle and tugged. The stubborn cork popped free, nearly sending me tumbling. I steadied myself then pried the cork off my thumb. Kevin snickered softly.

I shot him a mock glare. "Even the techniques Xhian developed for Rainer and Endellion don't always work on me. He taught me a few things. Enough to patch myself back together and summon help at any rate."

"Ever had anything he couldn't handle?" Kevin asked.

"Once. The real trick with me is making my magic do the work. Turn." Kevin turned and peered at me over his shoulder while I swiped his side down with glycerin. "Seal."

"Why purple?" he asked.

I snapped my fingers impatiently. "Now." I couldn't stop in the middle of this and re-wet his skin without wiping off the previous seals and wasting my hard work.

The second he passed me the bone healing seal, I pressed it over the area, ironed it flat with my hand, peeled it off, and grabbed the next seal. After applying the second and third seals, I pulled back.

"It's hectographic ink, which uses synthetic dyes instead of tannin or carbon," I explained. "Vinetta uses it to copy documents. Write your seal in reverse, wet your skin, and apply. It takes practice, but it's easier than writing seals with your off hand." And less dangerous than sealing while pain addled. "Prick your finger and drip a few drops on the seal. It's blood activated. Don't touch the ink until after you heal your finger."