in the blanket of power. I sank deep into my chair, disappointed that the book hadn’t contained magic spells or lessons. I had been hoping for an answer. Something along the lines of: this is why you have the power, here’s how you use it, and while we’re at it, this is how to conjure up the antidote to Butterfly’s Dust.
It had been wishful thinking, plain and simple, dangerous for me to indulge in. Hope, happiness and freedom were not in my future. They had never been, not even as an ignorant child in Brazell’s orphanage. While hoping for a normal life, I had been raised as a laboratory rat for his experiments.
I slumped in my chair until the sun set, allowing self-pity to run its course. When the muscles in my legs began to throb with inactivity, I stood and physically shook off my gloom. If I couldn’t find the antidote in the books, I would find it another way. Someone had to know something. There had been food tasters on Commander Ambrose’s staff for fifteen years. If no one could help me, then I would try another way, perhaps stealing the antidote or following Valek to its source. Skills I lacked, but I was determined to learn.
* * *
The next morning, prepared with an empty stomach, I joined in the flow of jogging soldiers. Ari and Janco breezed past me. Janco flashed a jaunty wave and mischievous smile. Later, when I heard heavy steps pounding behind me, I assumed Janco was up to no good.
I moved aside to let him pass, but the runner stayed close on my heels. I glanced back in time to see Nix thrust his arms out. His hands connected with my back. I fell forward, crashing to the ground. As Nix ran over me, his boot slammed into my solar plexus, knocking the wind out of me.
Pain bloomed in my chest. I gasped for breath while curled in a fetal position on the ground. Once I regained my wind, I pushed myself to a sitting position. The flow of soldiers remained unabated, and I wondered if anyone had witnessed what that bastard had done.
If he was trying to discourage me, he was going about it the wrong way. Nix had just increased my resolve to learn self-defense so I didn’t fall victim to mongrels like him. I stood up and waited for Nix’s next circuit, but he never came back.
Ari stopped. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” Nix, like Margg, was my problem. If I didn’t deal with him, he would never leave me alone. A tingle of doubt touched my stomach. It had been that kind of thinking that had landed me in the dungeon, awaiting execution.
“Your face is covered with blood,” Ari said.
I wiped the blood on my sleeve. “I fell.”
Before he could question me further, I changed the subject by giving him something else to think about. I repeated Valek’s advice about concealing our training sessions; Ari agreed that it was prudent to go “underground.” He offered to scout out a suitable location.
“You’re Maren, right?” I asked between gasps for air. I had been running laps for a week, and this morning I had timed my pace to run beside Maren.
She shot me a quick, appraising glance. Her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Wide muscular shoulders atop a thin waist made her figure appear disproportionate. She moved with athletic ease, and I had to scramble to keep up with her long, loping strides.
“And you’re the Puker,” Maren said.
It was an insult aimed with a purpose; her interest in my response was keen. If she had wanted to dismiss me, she would have made her comment and sprinted away, not bothering to watch for a reaction.
“I’ve been called worse.”
“Why do you do it?” Maren asked.
“What?”
“Run till you’re sick.”
“Five circuits were assigned. I don’t like to fail.” I received another measuring look. With my words coming out as huffs, I knew I wouldn’t be able to maintain a conversation for long. “I watched you fight Valek. I’ve heard you’re the best with a bow. I want to learn to use one.”
Her pace slowed. “Who told you that?”
“Ari and Janco.”
Maren snorted as if she thought a con artist had duped me. “Friends of yours?”
“Yes.”
Her mouth formed a small o as she made a mental connection. “They found you in the forest. It’s rumored they were training you to fight but you quit. Are they foisting you off on me?”
“The problem with rumors—” I panted “—is the difficulty in sorting the truth from the lies.”
“And the reason I’m willing to donate my time?”
I had anticipated this question. “Information.”
“About what?”
“You want to beat Valek, right?”
Her gray eyes focused on me like two sword points pressing against my skin.
With the last of my breath, I wheezed out, “Come to the east entrance of the castle this afternoon at two and I’ll tell you.” Unable to keep up with her any longer, I slowed down. She pulled ahead. I lost sight of her in the press of soldiers.
Throughout the rest of the morning, I replayed the conversation in my mind, trying to guess her response as I tasted the Commander’s meals. At two o’clock, I waited in the castle’s east doorway, chewing on my lip. Ari and Janco had spread a rumor that my training had stopped. I’d taken a considerable risk by indicating to Maren that this might not be true. When I spotted a tall figure carrying two bows heading in my direction, my anxiety eased a little.
Maren paused when she entered the corridor. She spotted me leaning against the wall.
Before she could comment, I said, “Follow me.” I led her to a deserted hallway where Janco and Ari waited.
“I guess gossip is not to be trusted,” Maren said to Ari.
“No. But there are certain rumors we would like to keep as is.” A thinly disguised threat laced Ari’s words.
Maren ignored him. “Okay, Puker, what’s your information? And it better be good or I’m walking.”
Ari’s face reddened and I could see that he bit back a remark. Janco, as always, grinned in anticipation.
“Well, as I see it, the four of us can help each other out. Ari, Janco and I want to learn how to fight with the bow. You want to beat Valek. Working together, we may be able to achieve our goals.”
“How’s my teaching you going to help in a match against Valek?” Maren asked.
“You’re skilled with the bow, but your fighting tactics need work. Ari and Janco can help you with that.”
“One week of training and the Puker thinks she’s an expert,” Maren said to Ari with an incredulous voice. He remained mute, but his face darkened.
“I’m not an expert, but Valek is.”
She
