Page 5

That skill was only slightly more complicated than extinguishing the candle—if it had been living or of a larger mass, it would be a bit more challenging, but this required nothing more than a couple of whistled tones before the fabric as my voice commanded and split right down the middle.

He shifted the two pieces apart. “Now mend it.”

This one was a tricky request if one wasn’t paying attention. Often, pieces had to be smoothed together in order to fit right again. I walked to the table without being told and moved the pieces back together again, singing a gentle few notes before revealing the fabric whole.

The boy pulled out the chair for me and I sat, and he took the other. He passed a sheet of paper across the small table.

“Sight-sing the printed music,” he said.

“I assume I have the usual thirty seconds to look it over?”

“Whatever pleases you.”

That was definitely a trick. If I had thirty seconds, he would have said so. My best option was to assess the page as quickly as possible, glance at the time signature and key signature, and hope I hit the right tone.

As soon as I flipped over the page, he plucked a string from a lute leaning against the wall beside him. An A. He’d given me the first note, at the very least.

I grinned. “You are not as heartless as you make yourself out to be, sir.”

“And you’re stalling,” he said, without giving my playful jab so much as a smile. “Sing.”

This wasn’t a song I’d ever seen before, but that was probably the point. Still, I began singing it without much thought. It was a short composition, only sixteen bars, and as soon as I was finished, he took the paper away.

“You will now create a shield.”

“What are you, then?” I asked. “If not a knight?”

“‘Coventry Carol,’” he said, ignoring my question. “Lead the first verse, sing harmony the second.”

“‘Coventry Carol’ is quite an odd name for a boy.”

Finally, he let slip a whisper of a smirk at his lips, an endearing look that quickly dropped away. “Begin when you’re ready.”

“D minor?” I suggested, before counting us in.

I nearly faltered in singing; he had such a lovely voice. But, whether or not I was failing this audition, there was no way I was going to miss the opportunity to blend with such beauty. So I sang, my voice melding with his. I longed for my lute to accompany us. It was so strange how little this felt like an audition, how much fun it was, how natural our voices sounded together. God, I loved singing.… Maybe that was why I was so very good at magic.

And our magic swam together, his amplifying mine. It pulsed through the air like a heartbeat, pulled at my heart like a prayer. It was as if our very souls were singing to one another. The boy stood as he sang, pressing his hand against the shield I’d created as if touching a sheet of glass.

When we finished, all he said was, “Good.”

Our residual magic skimmed through the air like smoke, mine gold and shimmering, his a soothing royal blue. They entwined before gradually disappearing. The leftovers of our magic paired just as well as our voices. I told myself it was more a sign than a coincidence.

“That was lovely,” I said. “Are you sure you aren’t a knight?”

“I would never presume to be.”

“A squire, then. You know the profession far too well to be anything but.”

“Prepare for your final test.” He sat across from me again and pulled up his sleeve, resting it on the table with his palm up.

My stomach turned at seeing his forearm.

He had a long cut along it, red and raw and clearly fresh. But there was something strange about it. A thick, black gunk, like dark veins, ran through the inside of the wound. I had seen an injury of this kind only once before—the black infection was unique to victims who encountered The Dark. Those could not be healed by any normal medicine. By anything but magic.

But that didn’t worry me as much as the injury itself. How long ago had it been inflicted? And how many knights before me had tried and failed to heal it?

From sight-reading to protection harmonies to healing wounds. All necessary skills, but the king was immortal. Known from songs and lore to be impervious to injury. So who would I be attending to that would require such a skill?