Kenzo wipes the sweat from his forehead with a rag. “My father trained King Silas to fight. I’ve been training Draven since this wolf was only a pup.” He lowers his voice for just me. “I’ve never known him to let anyone in. He must think you’re very special. Be worthy of his faith in you.”
He returns his metal staff to the rack and grabs a wooden one instead. I move to seize the practice swords Draven used, but Kenzo clacks me on the knuckle. My jaw hardens.
“Baby warrior gets baby swords.” He gestures to the wooden swords with wrapped handles.
I grit my teeth but obey, grabbing them out of the rack and following Kenzo into the ring. I’m very aware of my body and Draven’s watchful eyes.
“Show me what you know.”
I spent years training as a Wraith, but the main traits of a spy are to be quiet, clever, and watchful. I could throw knives and hit a target ten yards away on a moonless night, but the only swords I’ve ever held have been ceremonial. I lift the right one and swing, then try the other only to find his staff sharply meeting it, and the wooden sword spins out of my hand.
“Weak wrists mean we start with one.” He begins to pace, walking a slow circle around me.
Knives were always my weapon of choice, typically easier to get a hand on, easier to conceal. Occasionally a recurve bow for anything requiring a greater distance. I grip my remaining sword with both hands.
“Align your knuckles. There, much better.” He clacks his staff against it, and though it dips, I don’t drop it. “Better. Now keep your knees slightly bent. Legs apart so you can’t be pushed over. What are you, some dainty maid in waiting or a lioness? Better.”
I wait for him, watching out of the corner of my eye anytime he paces around my back, ready for any sudden movements. He smirks at my unwavering observation.
“I see you’re new to the sword but not the fight. So, Rune, show me—” But he doesn’t get the next words out, moving to strike when he was almost out of sight. I spin and block him,my wooden blade bouncing back because I swung too hard, not used to the weight yet. He moves so quickly for someone that large, but I’m used to bigger opponents. After all, I was rarely sent to spy on women. I block him once, twice, but then he strikes with the bottom of the staff, and I can’t move quick enough, so he takes me out at the knee.
“Good, get up. We go again.”
17The Devil’s in the Details
The Devil card represents illusion, materialism, and lust for our darkest vices.
“THERE YOU ARE.I think you’ve had enough time with Kenzo … today.” Professor Vexus stops short when he notices me, drenched, winded, and bruised. His head swivels between Draven and me, waiting for an explanation. There’s a narrowed confusion in his gaze, as if he’s unsure what to make of anything.
“You’ll have an extra student today.” Draven takes a long draft from a waterskin. He and I have both been performing drills with Kenzo for the past half an hour, and we’re slick with sweat. Draven moves across to me, drawing several Arcana that I’m too exhausted to notice, and after a moment my bruises fade, my sweat giving way to clear skin, hair shining again as if I’ve spent hours styling it. He gives himself the same effect, donning his shirt and jacket once more, and I carry mine, following Professor Vexus.
“This is … irregular, Draven.” Professor Vexus glares at me over his shoulder. His classes have been informative but awkward. I didn’t fail to notice after Mira’s punishment that he was absent for nearly the same length of time his daughter was.
“If you want me to keep my word, then you’ll accept it.” Draven glances at me only briefly, a reassuring smile fixed in place. Professor Vexus grits his jaw but leads us out of the rotunda and into a small lecture hall, where a few other druids already sit around the room.
They stand when Draven enters the classroom. I jolt when I spot Wynter among them. What is he doing here? What are any of them doing here?
“As I explained to you before, you have been selected to train with Prince Draven … and apparently a guest. My Arcana is the Hierophant, like many professors here, focusing on memory walking, the ability to revisit memories and share them with others.”
Professor Vexus draws his Arcana, and a golden collection of memories from Draven’s previous trainings are projected across the space. Professor Vexus has displayed a little of this magic in our regular classes, and this is his Arcana at the height of its power.
“I also have the ability to alter memories when the card is reversed, which is why you have not heard of these private classes before.” The visions adjust, showcasing some of these same students in this room at a different time. He meets the eye of every student drawn here, and I watch each of them understand what he’s saying at the same time I do. “At the end of session your memories will be wiped to protect the heir of our kingdom’s progress or lack thereof, by order of the king. You will have memories only of whatever classes you were pulledfrom, the lectures shared with me by your professors. Do you understand?”
Everyone nods, though Wynter’s more reserved about it than the others.
“How do you choose who is pulled for these classes?” I ask Draven.
“It’s random. Mostly. Unless I see someone particularly impressive that I’d like to train with.”
“I haven’t been impressive enough?” I lean closer to him, my shoulder bumping his elbow. He opens his mouth, breaking into a smile as he realizes there’s no good reply to that.
“Third-year Sun Arcana, step forward,” Professor Vexus orders, and the only girl in the group, a broad-shouldered vixen with sun-loved skin steps ahead. She has the Sun Arcana tattooed on the back of her right hand and she smiles at Draven like she would’ve accepted any excuse to punch him in the face. Usually I’d agree with her, though I’m starting to become a bit partial to him. Vexus adds, “This room has been warded by our strongest Emperor Arcana to not take damage, but the same cannot be said for you. We also have a healer on standby but the worse the injury, the longer the healing time.”
The Empress Arcana sits in the corner with her head in a book.
“Well, I hope watching my ass get handed to me all morning cheered you up.” Draven’s voice is quiet, meant for just me, his breath caressing my ear. He gently puts his hand against my upper back to lead me out of the way. I step aside but nod, biting my lip to withhold my grin, as he faces off with the Sun Arcana.
She barely waits for me to move before she summons her card, golden plasma pulling from thin air, wrapping her hands with molten fire. Draven is unintimidated, making everyonewait as he rolls up his sleeves, taking all the time in the world. Professor Vexus leans against the wall outside the center circle, pinching the bridge of his nose as if teaching these lessons is a personal torture. Draven finally flicks his hand above his stack of cards at his hip, drawing out the World, then the Sun. The same kind of fiery magma appears in his hands, burning white instead of gold.
