The Majat Testing, Page 3

  ***

  The blaze of the morning sun made the white stone pavement running along the edge of the training grounds painful to look at. Egey Bashi narrowed his eyes, searching for Mik, a lone figure at the edge of the field.

  He felt dizzy as he approached the boy, a lightheaded feeling that went far beyond simple lack of sleep. The soreness in his exhausted muscles, the slight waft of almond scent clinging to his skin...He shook his head, trying to force the memories away. The Keepers were not allowed to form any lasting bonds. She was a Diamond, for Shal Addim’s sake—an elite mercenary, royalty in her own Guild, beautiful beyond belief. He, a mere Initiate in his Order, whose insubordinate behavior made even the prospect of future promotions questionable, should not as much as cast his eyes on a woman like that. He should feel lucky about what happened—and forget it as soon as he could.

  He knew he would never be able to do that.

  Mik lowered his training sword, watching his approach. Under his scrutinizing gaze, Egey Bashi straightened his cloak and made a vain attempt to smooth his dark unruly hair. He should have stopped by his chambers to change, or at least to see himself in the mirror. He must look like hell after what happened at night, even if he felt like heaven.

  “Look what I learned this morning.” Mik stepped back onto the field, erupting into a series of movements that blended together so fluidly that Egey Bashi had trouble following them with his tired eyes. After a long combination, Mik lowered his sword and approached the Keeper again, panting slightly. “Do you think this will impress her?”

  Egey Bashi lowered onto a wooden bench at the edge of the practice range, grateful for the relief it brought to his tired legs.

  “Look,” he said. “Why don’t you just talk to her? Tell her why you want to be a Majat.”

  “Talk? What good would talking do? You saw how good she is with weapons.”

  Yes, among other things. Egey Bashi shivered. “She’s had a lifetime of training. You can’t possibly hope to impress her by practicing for a day.”

  “But...” Mik’s face fell. “Does it mean, no matter what I do, I’ve already failed?”

  Egey Bashi sighed. “No. It means you probably have to do something else to pass her test. Why do you think the Majat testing is all about weapons?”

  “But isn’t weaponry what they do?”

  “It is, but it is not the only thing.” Once again, Egey Bashi had to suppress a shiver. Dear Shal Addim, whether or not Mik would convince Arin to take him along, she was going to leave the Citadel by tomorrow, and Egey Bashi would stay behind. In all likelihood he would never see her again. And even if he did, they could never pursue their relationship any further.

  He caught himself under Mik’s gaze.

  “You have it bad for her, I can tell,” Mik said.

  “Do I?”

  “Yes.”

  “And since when did you become an expert in these things?”

  Mik opened his mouth to respond when his expression froze. Egey Bashi spun around to follow his gaze and slowly rose up to his feet.

  Arin was walking toward them, calm and composed as ever. She wore a full complement of weapons and looked like she had spent a morning relaxing and grooming herself, which Egey Bashi knew for a fact not to be the case. His heart raced as he watched her, warmth spreading over him, echoing deep inside. He wanted to touch her so much. He would never stop dreaming about it.

  She slid a quick glance over him and stepped past, coming to a standstill in front of Mik.

  “I’m returning to the Majat Guild tomorrow,” she said.

  Mik swallowed and briefly nodded his head. Egey Bashi could see the awe in the boy’s face. Perhaps Egey Bashi was not the only one who had it bad for Arin. But he certainly didn’t think anyone could possibly have it any worse.

  “I’m here to give you another chance,” she said.

  Mik swallowed. “You are?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  Arin’s eyes briefly darted to Egey Bashi. “I was told you really wanted to be a Majat.”

  “Yes, but...”

  “But what?”

  “I...” Mik took a deep breath. “My rope marks. You asked how I got them.”

  She held her silence.

  “My parents did it.”

  Arin’s eyes widened just briefly, the only sign betraying her shock. “Your parents?”

  Mik swallowed. “I know now they’re not my real parents, but I thought they were. Until...” he hesitated.

  “Go on,” she said quietly.

  Mik’s eyes stared unseeingly into space. “One day, a priest came and talked to them for a very long time. My mom...” His eyes narrowed “...the woman who raised me cried, but the priest told her it was Shal Addim’s will. He brought more men. My fa— her husband went with them. She...she packed lengths of rope for them, I saw it. She blessed them. And...” He swallowed. “They told me I must come with them. I tried to fight, but...There were too many of them.” His voice trailed off into silence.

  “Who were these people that raised you?” Arin asked.

  Mik raised his face, and for the first time since he met the boy Egey Bashi saw a tear roll down his cheek.

  “They were vassals of the Aeghor clan. The Northland nobles. I... I thought I was one of them.” His lips trembled and he quickly wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

  Arin reached over and placed a hand on Mik’s shoulder.

  “In the Majat Guild,” she said, “no one would ever try to harm you. Not without giving you a fair chance to fight back. You have my word.”