full of stones. Why couldn’t I just go for it? Why was I constantly considering each option, searching both sides of an argument for gaps in the logic? Like somersaulting on the trampoline, plenty of ups and downs but no forward motion. I longed for the days when a wrong decision wouldn’t cost me my life.
By the time I reached the Commander’s office, I had concluded that I had other enemies besides the magician, and being able to defend myself might save my life someday. Knowledge, whatever the form, could be as effective as a weapon.
Soon after I arrived, one of the tutors bustled into the office, dragging a young girl with him. At age twelve every child was assigned a profession based on their capabilities, and then they were sent to the appropriate tutor for four years to learn.
The tutor’s red uniform had black diamonds stitched on the collar, making it the direct opposite of an adviser’s black uniform. The girl wore the simple red jumper of a student. Her brown eyes were shiny with unshed tears. Her facial expressions alternated between terror and defiance as she battled to compose herself. I guessed she was about fifteen years old.
“What’s the problem, Beevan?” the Commander asked, annoyance tainting his voice.
“This disobedient child is a constant disruption to my class.”
“In what way?”
“Mia is a know-it-all. She refuses to solve mathematical problems in the traditional manner and has the gall to correct me in front of the entire class.”
“Why are you here?”
“I want her disciplined. Whipped, preferably, and reassigned as a servant.”
Beevan’s request caused silent tears to spill down Mia’s cheeks, although she maintained her composure, which was impressive for someone so young.
The Commander steepled his fingers, considering. I cringed for the girl, having her tutor bother the Commander for this dispute would not help her. Beevan must have gone over the training coordinator.
“I’ll handle it,” the Commander finally said. “You’re dismissed.”
Beevan wavered for a moment, opening and closing his mouth several times. His pinched expression revealed that this was not the response he had expected. Nodding stiffly, he left the office.
The Commander pushed his chair away from the desk and gestured to Mia to come around. Now eye level with her, he asked, “What’s your side of the story?”
With a thin quavering voice, she answered, “I’m good with numbers, Sir.” She hesitated as if expecting to be corrected for making a bold statement, but, when none came, she continued, “I was bored solving mathematical problems Tutor Beevan’s way, so I invented new and faster ways. He’s not good with numbers, Sir.” Again she stopped, flinching as though she was anticipating a blow. “I made the mistake of pointing out his errors. I’m sorry, Sir. Please don’t whip me, Sir. I’ll never do it again, Sir. I’ll follow Tutor Beevan’s every command.” Tears flowed down her bright pink cheeks.
“No, you won’t,” the Commander replied.
Terror gripped the girl’s face.
“Relax, child. Yelena?”
Startled, I spilled some of his tea. I had been holding his tray. “Yes, Sir.”
“Fetch Adviser Watts.”
“Yes, Sir.” I put the tray on the desk and hurried through the door. I had met Watts once. He was the Commander’s accountant, who had given me the money I had earned playing fugitive. He was working at his desk, but immediately followed me back to the office.
“Watts, do you still need an assistant?” the Commander asked.
“Yes, Sir,” Watts replied.
“Mia, you have one day to prove yourself. If you don’t dazzle Adviser Watts with your mathematical skills, then you’ll have to return to Beevan’s class. If you do, then you can have the job. Agreed?”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” Mia’s pretty face was radiant as she trailed behind Watts.
I marveled at the Commander. Being compassionate, hearing Mia’s side of the story, and giving her a chance, were the exact opposite of how I imagined the encounter would play out. Why would a man with such power take the time to go that extra step? He risked upsetting Beevan and the coordinator. Why would he bother to encourage a student?
His stack of reports reclaimed the Commander’s attention, so I slipped out the door, heading toward the library to continue my research.
After a while, the sun began to set. I picked out a promising botany book to take with me as I was reluctant to have a lantern light betray my presence in the library.
The candlelight cast a dismal glow in the corridors. I watched my shadow glide along the walls as I headed for Valek’s suite, wondering if I should move back to my old room in the servants’ wing. Now that Brazell was gone, there was no logical reason for me to remain with Valek. But the thought of living in that small room, where I wouldn’t have anyone to argue with or to discuss poisoning methods with, left a hollow feeling inside me. That same empty pang I’d been having on and off these last four days.
Only the cold darkness greeted me when I entered Valek’s suite. My disappointment surprised me, and I realized I had been missing him. I shook my head at the foreign concept. Me? Miss Valek? No. I couldn’t allow myself to think that way.
Instead, I focused on my survival. If I wanted to discover an antidote to Butterfly’s Dust, paging through books on counteracting poisons while sitting in Valek’s living room wouldn’t be the smartest idea. Of course, the decision might not be mine to make. Once Valek found out Brazell had gone, he’d probably order me to move back anyway.
After I had lit the lanterns in Valek’s suite, I relaxed on the couch with the botany book. Biology had never been a favorite subject of mine, and I soon found my mind wandering. My weak efforts to remain focused were lost to my daydreams.
A muffled slam brought my attention back to the present. It sounded like a book hitting the floor. I glanced down, but my volume remained in my lap, opened to a particularly boring passage about fruit trees. I scanned the living room to see if one of Valek’s untidy piles of books had fallen over. Sighing at his mess, I couldn’t tell if something had toppled or not.
A frightening thought crept into my mind. Maybe the noise had come from upstairs. Maybe it hadn’t been a book but a person. Someone sneaking in to wait until I fell asleep to kill me. Unable to sit still, I grabbed a lantern and dashed into my room.
My backpack rested on the bureau. Rand hadn’t asked for his knife yet, so I hadn’t returned it. Pulling the blade from the pack, Ari’s words about misusing a weapon flew through my mind. It was probably foolish to take the knife, but I felt more confident with it in my hand. Armed, I returned to the living room and considered my next move. Sleep would be impossible tonight until I investigated the upstairs rooms.
Blackness from above pressed down on my meager light as I ascended the staircase. Curving to the right, the stairs ended in a sitting room. Piles of boxes, books and furniture were scattered throughout the room in a haphazard fashion, casting odd-shaped shadows on the walls. I maneuvered with caution around the heaps.
