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.”

“Of course,” Alarein said, standing aside to allow her through the door leading to the bedchamber.

She hesitated before going in. Should she say something more to him? Alarein had served her for years, but she’d never spent time befriending any of the sentinels. She already knew Corec’s little band of soldiers better, despite the short time they’d been together.

She was here for another reason, though, and Alarein didn’t seem to expect any more of a response. She’d have to speak to him again later.

She passed through the doorway into the darkened bed chamber, lit only by a few candles.

Revana looked small and frail in the center of the wide bed. Her cheeks were sunken in her face, and her hair was gray and stringy. For a brief moment Ellerie feared she’d arrived too late, but then her mother opened her eyes.

“So, you showed up after all,” Revana said.

“Exalted Majesty,” Ellerie said with a quick bow of her head. “Your spy said you requested my presence.”

“Yes. I offer a bribe and you come crawling back.” Revana’s tone was as biting as ever.

Five years and nothing had changed. What had Ellerie expected? I will not become my mother, she said silently to herself. It had been her mantra before she’d left home.

“I didn’t come here to beg,” she said. “My friends killed the dragon, and we’re reopening the old trade routes through the free lands. That costs money, but I’m here to make a deal, not ask for a handout.”

Something that could almost be a smile flitted across Revana’s face. “What sort of deal do you think would interest the kingdom of Terevas?”

“Terevas or the family,” Ellerie said. “You choose which. If you give me the money to finish the work on the roads and keep them secure, any investment you make will be paid back with discounts for crossing the toll bridge. Sixty percent off the standard rate.” She had to give her family a better deal than she’d given Duke Lorvis.

“Talk to your sister about the details,” Revana said. “I find it difficult to think about numbers these days.” She closed her eyes and leaned back on her pillow. “Send Melithar in on your way out.”

Ellerie blinked. “That’s it?” she asked. “You wanted me to come all the way here for that?”

“Can’t a mother wish to see her daughter?”

Was she being sincere? Ellerie couldn’t tell from the tone.

“If you say so,” Ellerie said. “As for Melithar, or whatever his name is, he’s still in the free lands. A friend of mine teleported me here. She can bring him too, if it’s important, but he didn’t want to leave his horse behind.”

“Teleported?” That perked Revana’s interest. “So that’s how you got here so quickly. Tell Melithar he can buy a new horse. I need to hear what he’s learned before I allow Vilisa to make any sort of deal.” She leaned back on her pillow and closed her eyes.

Apparently the conversation was over.

Ellerie headed for the door, but before she reached it, her mother spoke again. “Thank you for coming.” There was a tremor in her voice.

When Ellerie turned back, Revana was staring up at the ceiling, not meeting her eyes. That was as much affection as Revana would allow herself to show, but for her, it was a lot.

Not all of Ellerie’s memories were bad. There had been good times, too, especially when she was younger. It was Revana who’d taught her to ride a horse, and Revana who’d provided her earliest lessons in wizardry. Despite everything, they were still family.

“I’m sorry about what’s happened to you,” Ellerie said. “And that I wasn’t here to help. I know a good healer. Should I ask her to come?”

“I’ve seen the best healers in Terevas,” Revana said. “I doubt your friend compares.”

“Fine,” Ellerie said. She hesitated, then spoke again. “I’m not here just because of the trade routes. I think Terevas should formalize relations with Corec Tarwen.”

“The mercenary you’ve gotten yourself tangled up with? A bastard son from a minor house in Larso? What possible reason would we have to attempt any sort of diplomacy with him?”

Her mother was better informed than Ellerie had expected. Maybe Melithar wasn’t the only spy she’d sent.

“He’s not a mercenary. Now that the dragon is dead, he’s claimed Matagor’s old trade keep.”

Her mother gave her an odd look. “So? If anyone else had actually wanted a dilapidated heap of rock in the middle of nowhere, they’d have done something about the dragon years ago. Even at its best, the keep was only there to watch over some farmland. The old Matagoran kings liked to write to me bragging about their plans for expanding into Meftil’s territory, but they were always too scared of Larso to actually do it.”

“It may not be much to look at, but it’s in an important location,” Ellerie said. “And the population of the free lands has recovered since the last plague.” She had her own thoughts about what Corec’s region might become under proper stewardship, though she suspected Corec preferred it the way it was. “That’s not why I’m suggesting ties, though.”

“Do tell.”

“Have you ever heard of the wardens?”

“It’s a word that can mean many things, none of them specific.” But Revana had tensed just slightly. She knew.

“The wardens I’m talking about are an order of mages who can enhance other mages’ power,” Ellerie said. “There are only a few at any given time.”

“An old legend,” Revana said. “They don’t exist.”

“Corec is a warden,” Ellerie said. “And I’ve met others. They work in secret so no one learns about them, but they wield a great deal of power.”

Much of that power came from the connections and business dealings they built up over their long lives rather than from their magic, but Revana didn’t need to know everything. Perhaps Corec’s secret wasn’t Ellerie’s to tell, but while she didn’t like her mother, she trusted her. A formal relationship with Terevas might help to protect their fledgling territory. It wouldn’t stop Larso from invading, but it would certainly give Matagor pause.

“And what, exactly, do they do with that power?” Revana asked.

“That depends on the warden. Corec just wants to watch over his region in peace, but he could be a valuable ally. He commanded the battle against the dragon, and he and his friends helped me find Tir Yadar.”

“One of the Ancients’ cities? Is that what you were after all this time? Melithar told me you were searching for something. I don’t really see what that has to do with this human being an ally.”

Ellerie hid her sigh. “One of the mages he’s bonded is a dorvasta druid who’s offered to grow tershaya for us.”

“The dorvasta already give us tershaya.”

“I don’t mean just a few scattered seedlings. I’ve seen Shavala grow dozens of full-sized trees in a matter of minutes.”

Revana looked thoughtful for a moment, but then she shook her head. “And give people like Retavin di’Yedda what they want? He was the one who tried to assassinate us, you know. He’s dead now, of course, but the tershaya have always been a false hope, held up by those who seek to gain power and influence by promising something that will never happen.”

Ellerie had thought that suggestion would work. It seemed her mother hadn’t gotten any easier to impress.

“That’s your answer, then?” she asked. “Nothing I can offer is important enough for you to even recognize our holding?”

“I didn’t say that. What’s your interest in this human man? I’m certain you’re not sharing his bed.”

“I trust him, and I trust my other friends. The region we’ve claimed shows a lot of promise, and I think it would benefit Terevas to be first in line for any future trade deals. We’re not ready for that yet, but someday we will be.”

“I won’t make any decisions until I’ve spoken with Melithar. I take it this means you’re not planning to return home?”

“I don’t want to do anything that would risk Vilisa’s claim to the throne.”

Revana nodded. “A convenient excuse, regardless of the actual reason.” Her eyelids drifted closed.

“Why did you let me leave?” Ellerie asked. “I’ve been gone for five years, and Melithar is the only person you ever sent after me. You could have forced me to return if you’d actually wanted me back. Why didn’t you?”

“Because you were right,” Revana murmured, not bothering to open her eyes. “Vilisa will make a better queen than you ever would. You have neither the patience nor the temperament for the job.”

It was one thing for Ellerie to know her own weaknesses, but another to have them laid bare by someone else. There was nothing she could say in response, but then her mother spoke again.

“Besides, I know the other reason you left,” Revana said. “The queen must provide an heir, and no woman should be forced to raise children she never wanted in the first place. Take it from me.”

Ellerie had to blink back tears. She’d suspected the truth, but her mother had never admitted it before.

“I am not you,” Ellerie said. “I will not become you.” She’d left Terevas because it was the only way to keep from turning into someone she hated.

If Revana heard, she gave no indication.