Magic Study. Maria Snyder V.

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said you used magic during the fight. That you made me tired.”

      I suppressed my anger and looked Cahil straight in the eye. “I did not.”

      “Then what did?”

      “Do you really want to know why you lost?” I asked.

      “Do you really have an answer?” he countered.

      “You need to get off your horse and run with your men. You don’t have the stamina for a long fight. And find a lighter sword.”

      “But it was my uncle’s.”

      “You’re not your uncle.”

      “But I’m the King, and this is the King’s sword,” Cahil said. His brows creased together. He seemed confused.

      “So wear it to your coronation,” I said. “If you use it in battle, you’ll be wearing it to your funeral,” I said.

      “You believe I’ll be crowned?”

      “That’s not the point.”

      “What is the point?”

      “I would have beaten you with my bow. That sword is too heavy for you.”

      “I always win against my men.”

      I sighed. Of course his men wouldn’t beat him. I tried another tactic. “Have you been in a battle?”

      “Not yet. We’re in training. And besides, a King doesn’t risk himself during a battle. I stay in the base camp and direct the combat.”

      His comment didn’t sound right to me, but, then again, I had no experience with warfare. Instead, I said, “Think about it, Cahil. Your men raised you. They want to reclaim the throne. But do they want it for you or for themselves? Exile in the south isn’t as glamorous as being the King’s guards.”

      Cahil snorted with disdain, shaking his head. “You know nothing. Why would you care? You’re a spy. You’re just trying to confuse me.” He returned to his cot.

      Cahil was right. I didn’t care. Once we reached the Keep and I proved my innocence, I wouldn’t have to bother with him again. Leif, on the other hand, had interfered with me one too many times.

      I scanned the tent. My brother’s cot was empty.

      “Where’s Leif?” I asked.

      “Gone.”

      “Where?”

      “I sent him ahead to notify the Keep of our arrival. Why?”

      “Family business.” I spat the words out.

      Cahil must have seen the murderous glint in my eyes. “You can’t hurt him.”

      “Oh, yes, I can. He’s caused me a lot of trouble.”

      “He has my protection.”

      “Is that one of the benefits of being a member of your quest for the north?”

      “No. When we captured you and Leif, I gave him my word that no harm would come to him in exchange for his full cooperation in dealing with you.”

      I blinked at Cahil. Had I heard him right? “But Leif set me up.”

      “No, he didn’t.”

      “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

      “I thought letting you believe you had been betrayed by your own brother would demoralize you. However, it seems to have had the opposite effect.”

      Cahil’s plan might have worked if Leif and I had had a relationship. I rubbed my face as I tried to decide if knowing the truth changed my opinion about Leif.

      Sitting on the edge of his cot, Cahil studied me in silence.

      “If Leif didn’t set me up, then who did?”

      Cahil smiled. “I can’t reveal my sources.”

      Leif had managed to convince many Zaltanas that I was a spy, so the entire clan was suspect. Anyone at the Illiais Market could have overheard our destination, as well.

      I couldn’t worry about it now, but I wouldn’t forget it, either. “You said you sent Leif to the Keep,” I said. “Will we be there soon?”

      “Tomorrow afternoon; about an hour after Leif arrives. I want to make sure we’re met by the right people,” Cahil said. “An important day, Yelena. Better get some sleep.” He blew out the lantern.

      I reclined on my cloak, wondering about the Citadel and Keep. Would Irys be there by tomorrow? Doubtful. I stretched my awareness out, seeking Irys but only encountering wildlife. Without Irys at the Keep would the First Magician peel away the layers of my mind? Apprehension churned inside my stomach. I would rather face Goel than the unknown. Eventually, though, I slept.

      Dark dreams of Reyad swirled in my mind.

      “Same story, Yelena,” Reyad’s ghost said, laughing and taunting. “No options. No friends. But you have a knife. Again.”

      An image of Reyad wrapped in blood-soaked sheets flashed in my dreams. The killing wound in his neck was the result of my desire to protect myself and the other kidnapped children from torture and mindless slavery.

      “Will you cut another’s throat to save yourself?” he asked. “How about your own?”

      I woke to the sound of crying and realized with horror that my face was wet. Brushing away the tears, I resolved not to let my doubts plague me. Reyad’s ghost might haunt my dreams, but I wouldn’t allow him to haunt my life.

      Morning dawned with the smell of sweet cakes, and I joined the men by the fire for breakfast. After we ate, Cahil’s men packed up the camp. Their mood was light and their banter friendly, so I was caught off guard when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

      Before I could move, the grip tightened, causing pain. I turned my head. Goel stood behind me.

      He dug his fingers deeper into my flesh as he whispered in my ear. “I promised not to hurt you while we traveled to the Citadel. Once there, you’re mine.”

      I rammed my elbow into Goel’s stomach. He grunted. I stepped forward and knocked his hand off my shoulder with my arm as I spun. Facing him, I asked, “Why warn me?”

      He drew in a deep breath and grinned. “Your anticipation will make the hunt more exciting.”

      “Enough talk, Goel. Let’s do it now.”

      “No. I want time to play. I have all kinds of games planned for when I have you, my sweet.”

      My body shook with an icy chill of revulsion. Goose bumps covered my skin. It was a sensation I never thought I would feel in the sweltering south.

      “Goel,

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