Morrow slipped past his friends and bumped into the back of Taewyn. “Well, well, if it isn’t Roach. Surprised you made it through, skinny man.”
Raising his chin, Taewyn stared ahead and pressed his lips together. I got the feeling this harassment had been going on for years.
Morrow dropped his gaze to mine and wrinkled his nose. “What’s wrong with your eyes? You blind in one eye or something?”
I clenched my teeth. This was going to be a recurring question, wasn’t it? “No.” I wished my voice came out stronger. “I see just fine.”
“It’s creepy. Too bad too. You’re pretty otherwise, for a peasant from outside the wall. With some new clothes and boots, you might even pass as one of us.” His flashing grin made my skin itch. Talk about a backhanded compliment.
I rolled my eyes. As if I cared to pass as one of them.
“Leave her alone, Morrow,” Taewyn said.
“Oh, Roach has himself a little girlfriend now.” He bumped his broad chest into him again, this time sending Taewyn slamming into me. I grabbed his shoulders, steadying him, and scowled at Morrow. What made him so cruel?
“She’s out of your league, Roach, even if she is one of the dirty loths.”
Loths? ... Lothleton? The forgotten. I clenched my fists at my sides and focused on the moving line. I had bigger things to worry about than a bully. I had to find a way to become a scholar and not a warrior.
“I bet Roach here is a scholar like his hunchbacked little father. He’s a disgrace to ducai, really. They should have tossed him into Lothleton to be eaten.”
“Don’t talk about my father that way.” Taewyn turned and puffed out his chest. Next to Morrow, he appeared small, but he was at least the same height. Taewyn had longer arms, which might help in a fight, though I was nervous for him.
“Or what? You think those skinny arms can breakme?” Morrow challenged.
A dark shadow caught the corner of my eye. I peeked over my shoulder to find the blue-eyed assassin staring down at Morrow. He was a few inches taller than the boys. Much taller than me. My pulse quickened, and I had the urge to look away, but I didn’t. I hadn’t even seen him move from his spot way back onthe platform. Not a word was spoken but the message was clear—shut up. The longer the silence lasted, the more nervous the energy became.
Finally, Morrow’s eyes dropped, submitting like a beta wolf to the alpha. Then the assassin’s steely gaze shifted to me; my body involuntarily shuddered. I had a strange urge to see the face behind his mask, and wondered again what he’d said about me when it was my turn to drink from the goblet. Was he commenting on my strange eyes? Maybe it was only a coincidence he’d spoken to another assassin for the first time at that moment.
He glided down the steps and slipped behind the tapestry. The charge of electricity in the air pulled away with him.
“Come forward, please.” I jumped, not realizing the line had moved and Taewyn and I were next. I hurried to the stone archway in the tapestry where a mage on either side waited. The woman pushed an oak staff with a white crystal encased at the top into my crippled left hand, and I quickly switched it to my right. “Grip it tightly,” she instructed.
I curled all my fingers around it and waited. Was I supposed to wave it around? I lifted it and gave it a swirl. She watched the crystal, so I did too. My chest fluttered with excitement. If I was a mage, I wouldn’t want Kace or my father to bring me home. Magic over men, sorry Kace. But my stomach started sinking, and the elation that had momentarily given me hope faded when the crystal didn’t change.
The woman cleared her throat and held out her hand. I reluctantly gave her the staff. “Move through the tapestry, please.”
“Does that mean?—”
“You’re not a mage, dear,” she answered and gestured for me to keep moving.
“Oh.” My shoulders sagged in disappointment.
Taewyn fell into step beside me, and we went through the tapestry where the crowd could no longer see us. The guild leaders were gathered in different areas, already assessing initiates in various tasks. To the right was a grassy area roped off in a large square and a brick wall lined with swords, daggers, axes, and bows. I wanted nothing to do with that. I’d gotten into a few scuffs when I was younger with some village girls for picking on Kayda—even if she and I didn’t always get along, we stuck together against anyone else—but nothing I’d faced at home was a serious fight. The last thing I wanted to do was go up against a vampire in combat.
“How do I become a scholar?” I asked Taewyn. “Can you help me?” I sounded desperate, but at this point I was.
He frowned and opened his mouth, but Morrow slammed his shoulder into him. “Tell her, Roach. Tell her that loths don’t get to become scholars. That’s only for those raised in Nighthaven and schooled here. See, scholars don’t accept savages and farmers, you actually have to be intelligent.”
My heart fell to my toes. “Isn’t there a test I can take?” I breathed.
Taewyn sneered at Morrow, took my arm and moved us a few steps away. Morrow and his two buddies laughed and said, “The weird ones belong together.”
“There is a written test,” Taewyn began, rubbing the back of his curly copper head. “But you have to pass an exam, and since those outside can’t read or write, they don’t get to?—”
“I can read and write.”
Over in the roped-off area, Morrow and a few others started fist fighting. The four assassins who’d been on the platform watched them. The warrior leaders stood together on the opposite side. One pointed at Morrow’s large-statured friend and the sword he swung. That thing was half as tall as I was and had to be heavy.
