Chapter 16

Shana attacked in a blur of motion, fists and feet striking faster than the eye could follow.

Treya dodged the first few attempts, then blocked a kick, attempting to guide Shana’s leg up and away to knock her off balance. It didn’t stop the other woman for long, though—she spun around in a circle, using the momentum to carry her back to her original stance.

Treya took advantage of the moment of distraction to launch her own attack, aiming for the radial nerve in her teacher’s right arm in the hope it would slow her down. Shana leaned back, allowing Treya’s strike to pass by, then grabbed Treya’s arm and trapped it close to her body. Treya held still, ceding the bout.

Shana let go. “Not bad, though it could be better,” she said. “You’re still focusing too much on trying to find where I am rather than knowing where I will be. But I’ve got a solution for that.” She pulled a long strip of cloth from her pocket and handed it over. “Tie this over your eyes.”

“A blindfold?” Treya asked.

Her teacher gave her an evil grin. “Trust me.”

Treya tied the cloth around her head, blocking her vision.

“Now,” Shana said, “try to figure out where I’ll be attacking you from next.” She poked Treya’s ribcage. “One point for me.” Her voice moved while she spoke. “You can’t see me, but you should know what your opponents are doing at all times, whether you can see them or not.” She patted Treya on the head from behind. Treya spun around but Shana had already moved out of reach.

“Not quite,” her teacher said from the left. Treya got an arm out just in time, stopping Shana from flicking her ear.

“One point for you, but I think you just got lucky,” Shana said. “Now try to find me when I’m not talking.” There was a faint brush of a foot against the ground, then a tap on Treya’s shoulder. A rustle of clothing, then another tap.

A flock of birds settled on the ramparts above, cawing noisily to each other and hiding any sound Shana might have been making. Someone, likely Katrin’s brother, dumped a basin of water out the back door of the tavern. He went back inside, letting the door slam shut behind him. A pair of armsmen had left the barracks and now stood gossiping in their makeshift practice yard. The sound of trotting horses suggested Harri was exercising the animals in their paddock.

Treya locked away each of the sounds as she heard them. She ignored the warmth of the sun cresting over the fortress walls, and let the summer breeze fade from her awareness. She felt herself slip into her meditation trance, something she’d never attempted while standing up. The faint, oncoming pang of hunger—gone. The sensation of her clothes and hair brushing against her skin—gone. The slight twinge that was always present in her left thigh—gone.

There. Just at the edge of her awareness. Treya lifted her arm almost lazily, deflecting the strike.

She spun, already knowing where the next attack would come from. She blocked it, and then the next.

Concentrate and defend. Concentrate and defend. Each attack was different, but there was almost a pattern to it. Not a pattern formed of planning or design or repetition, but one that Treya and Shana were crafting together as they fought.

And then, “Miss Treya! Miss Treya!”

Treya lost her trance and took off the blindfold. A young girl was running her way.

“Miss Treya! I hurt my leg!” The girl pulled up her skirt to show a skinned knee with a tiny drop of blood running down her calf.

Treya gave her a stern look. “What were you up to this time, Maya?”

“We were racing from the bridge to the hill and I fell. Can you fix it? It hurts real bad.”

Perhaps another healer would refuse, preferring to save their strength in case they encountered a serious injury, but Treya had never liked saying no when someone wanted her help. The injury wouldn’t require much power. She laid her hand on Maya’s head, and a moment later, it was done.

“Go wash off the blood now,” she told the girl.

“Thank you!” Maya said, then raced back the way she’d come.

Shana stared after her for a moment, then sighed. “I think I’m beginning to understand the problem,” she said. “I fear it’s my fault. I’ve led you down the wrong path.”

“But I always wanted to be a mystic.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Shana paused, thinking. “The last time we met in Tyrsall, we spoke about finding your purpose and learning to separate it from distractions. The problem is that you live a life full of distractions, full of chaos. You’re a healer, you’re a mystic, you serve as one of Corec Tarwen’s advisors. As a priestess, your role is to minister to the people, and as a mystic, your role is to protect them. As a... not-quite concubine, your role is to provide Corec with guidance. That’s a lot of responsibility.”

“I don’t think what I’m doing is similar to a concubine,” Treya said. “If anything, Ellerie and Bobo are handling a lot of the tasks I trained for.”

“You’re comparing yourself to what Nallee and Renny do for their patrons. A ruler—and that’s what Corec is—has different needs than a blacksmith or the owner of a trading company. Corec has more advisors because he has more responsibilities. That changes your role, but it doesn’t make it less important. A whisper in his ear in private can be more effective than a discussion with a dozen trusted counselors. Of course, those whispers work better coming from an actual concubine.”

Treya ignored that last part. “What should I do?” she asked.

“The mystic teachers among the Three Orders try to emulate my way of doing things,” Shana said with a self-conscious grimace. “Perhaps, for you, there’s another way. What’s the real goal of our training?”

“To learn who we are.”

Shana nodded. “The last time we spoke, I suggested the distractions are related your purpose, but that’s the wrong way to think about it. They’re not distractions at all, or even part of your purpose. They’re simply part of you. Yet they’re also causing uncertainty. Are you a healer, or a mystic, or both? Are you a concubine or an advisor? Right now, you’re trying to straddle the line between them without choosing. You can be any combination of those things that you choose, but what you can’t do is leave the choice unmade. How can you learn who you are on the inside if you can’t even decide who you are on the outside?”

“So, I just need to choose?” Treya asked. “That’s it?” It didn’t seem like it would make much difference.

Shana laughed. “Of course not. Two more suggestions. First, do the bloody exercises. I shouldn’t have to keep telling you.”

Treya felt herself blushing in embarrassment. “And the second?”

“Embrace the chaos.”

Ellerie and her sister walked in silence, with only the sound of their footsteps echoing through the corridor.

“Are you going to speak to me?” Ellerie finally asked. They’d exchanged awkward pleasantries when she’d arrived, but it wasn’t the reunion she’d hoped for.

“What do you want me to say?” Vilisa replied. “You’ve been gone for five years. You left me alone to deal with her. To deal with everything.”

They’d reached the Heart Wall, so Ellerie held her tongue. The sentinels stood aside to allow them entrance into the inner palace, their eyes widening when they recognized her. Ellerie’s tunic and leggings made a sharp contrast to her sister’s robes of state.

Once they were past, she said, “You could have come with me.”

“We couldn’t both leave! Someone had to stay with Mother and handle things when she got worse. Who would that have been if we were both gone? Avaro di’Taris? Do you really want to see him end up on the throne? Our family has held Terevas for fifteen hundred years, and you were willing to throw it all away.”

“You know why I left,” Ellerie said quietly.

“We’ve all had to make sacrifices, Elle. Everyone except you. So, no, I couldn’t go. Someone had to stay behind and clean up your mess. Besides, what would I have done in Matagor? You were the one who wanted to go chasing after old stories.”

Ellerie couldn’t refute her sister’s arguments. It was true—she had abandoned her responsibilities, leaving her mother and sister to deal with the consequences. Did it matter that she’d never wanted those responsibilities in the first place?

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Vilisa shook her head. “Forget I said anything. It doesn’t matter now.” They’d reached Revana’s quarters, and Vilisa gestured to the door. “The healer told me she’s awake. You’d better go in before she falls asleep again. Don’t cast a mage light. We keep the lights low because they hurt her eyes.”

“You’re not coming with me?”

“I’ll see you again after, but she doesn’t like talking to more than one person at a time anymore. She says it’s too hard to concentrate.”

Ellerie nodded, then took a deep breath and entered the suite. The two sentinels in the sitting room bowed to her.

“Exalted,” one murmured.

“Alarein,” she said, greeting him with a nod. He’d been part of her own personal guard before she’d left Terevas. She didn’t recognize the other man. “I’m here to see my mother.”