the citizens of Sitia. The Council tried to have a healer in every town, but the magicians with rare powers—like the ability to read ancient languages or find lost items—moved from place to place as needed.
Magicians with strong powers took the Master-level test before leaving the Keep. In the past twenty years, only Zitora had passed, bringing the number of Masters to four. In Sitia’s history, there never had been more than four Masters at one time.
Irys thought a Soulfinder could be strong enough to take the Master’s test. I disagreed. They already had the maximum, and I lacked the basic magical skills of lighting fires and moving objects—skills all the Masters possessed.
Besides, being a Soulfinder was bad enough, having to endure and fail the Master test would be too much to bear. Or so I guessed. The rumors about the test sounded horrific.
Before I even reached Leif’s door, it swung open and my brother stuck his head out. The rain soaked his short black hair in an instant. I shooed him back as I hurried into his living room, dripping muddy slush onto his clean floor.
His apartment was tidy and sparsely furnished. The only hint of his personality could be gleaned from the few paintings that decorated the room. A detailed rendering of a rare Ylang-Ylang flower indigenous to the Illiais Jungle, a painting of a strangler fig suffocating a dying mahogany tree and a picture of a tree leopard crouched on a branch hung on his walls.
Leif scanned my bedraggled appearance with resignation. His jade-colored eyes were the only feature that matched my own. His stocky body and square jaw were the complete opposite of my oval face and thin build.
“It can’t be good news,” Leif said. “I’d doubt you would brave the weather just to say hello.”
“You opened the door before I could knock,” I said. “You must know something’s up.”
Leif wiped the rain from his face. “I smelled you coming.”
“Smelled?”
“You reek of Lavender. Do you bathe in Mother’s perfume or just wash your cloak with it?” he teased.
“How mundane. I was thinking of something a little more magical.”
“Why waste the energy on using magic when you don’t have to? Although…”
Leif’s eyes grew distant and I felt the slight tingle of power being pulled.
“Apprehension. Excitement. Annoyance. Anger,” Leif said. “I take it the Council hasn’t voted to make you Queen of Sitia yet?”
When I didn’t answer, he said, “Don’t worry, little sister, you’re still the princess of our family. We both know Mother and Father love you best.”
His words held an edge, and I remembered it hadn’t been long since he had wanted to see me dead.
“Esau and Perl love us equally. You really do need me around to correct your misconceptions. I’ve proved you wrong before. I can do it again.”
Leif put his hands on his hips and raised one dubious eyebrow.
“You said I was afraid to come back to the Keep. Well—” I spread my arms wide, flinging drops of water onto Leif’s green tunic “—here I am.”
“You are here. I’ll grant you that. But are you unafraid?”
“I already have a mother and a Story Weaver. Your job is to be the annoying older brother. Stick to what you know.”
“Ohhh. I’ve hit a nerve.”
“I don’t want to argue with you. Here.” I pulled Moon Man’s note from my cloak’s pocket and handed it to him.
He unfolded the damp paper, scanning the message. “Ferde,” he said, coming to the same conclusion. “Have you told the Council?”
“No. The Masters know.” I filled Leif in on what had happened in the meeting room, omitting my “exchange” with Roze Featherstone.
Leif’s wide shoulders drooped. After a long moment, he said, “Master Featherstone doesn’t believe Ferde and Cahil are going to the Daviian Plateau. She doesn’t trust me anymore.”
“You don’t know that for—”
“She thinks Cahil is headed in another direction. Normally she would send me to determine his location and send for her. Together, we would confront him. Now I get assigned the wild-valmur chase.”
“Valmur?” It took me a moment to connect the name with the small, long-tailed creature that lived in the jungle.
“Remember? We used to chase them through the trees. They were so fast and quick, we never caught one. But sit down and hold a piece of sap candy and they’ll jump right into your lap and follow you around all day.”
When I failed to respond, Leif cringed with guilt. “That must have been after…
After I had been kidnapped and taken to Ixia. Although I could imagine a young Leif scampering through the jungle’s canopy after a fleet-footed valmur.
The Zaltana Clan’s homestead had been built high in the tree branches, and my father had joked that the children learned to climb before they could walk.
“Roze could be wrong about Cahil’s intentions. So pack some of that sap candy. We might need it,” I said.
Leif shivered. “At least it will be warmer in the plains, and the plateau is farther south.”
I left Leif’s quarters, heading to my tower to pack some supplies. The sleet blew sideways and tiny daggers of ice stung my face as I hurried through the storm. Irys was waiting for me in the receiving room just past the oversize tower entrance. The flames in the hearth pulsed with the rush of cold air slipping around the doors as I fought to close them against the wind.
I hustled to the fire and held my hands out. The prospect of traveling in such weather was unappealing.
“Does Leif know how to light fires?” I asked Irys.
“I think so. But no matter how skilled he is, wet wood won’t ignite.”
“Great,” I muttered. Steam floated from my soaked cloak. I draped the soggy garment around a chair then dragged it closer to the fire.
“When are you leaving?” Irys asked.
“Right away.” My stomach grumbled and I realized I had missed lunch. I sighed, knowing dinner would probably be a cold slice of cheese and mushy bread.
“I’m meeting Leif in the barn. Oh snake spit!” I remembered a couple of commitments.
“Irys, can you tell Gelsi and Dax I’ll start their training when I get back?”
“What training? Not magic—”
“No, no. Self-defense training.” I pointed to my bow. The five-foot-long staff of ebony wood was still threaded through its holder on my backpack. Drops of water beaded and gleamed on the weapon.
I pulled it free, feeling the solid weight of the staff in my hands. Underneath the ebony surface of the bow was a gold-colored wood. Pictures of me as a child, of the jungle, my family, and so on had been etched into the wood. Even Kiki’s loving eyes had been included in the story of my life. The bow moved smoothly in my hands. A gift from a master crafts-woman of the Sandseed Clan who had also raised Kiki.
“And Bain knows that you won’t be at his morning lesson,” Irys said. “But he said—”
“Don’t tell me he assigned homework,” I pleaded. Just thinking about lugging the heavy history tome made my back hurt.
Irys smiled. “He said that he would help you catch up on your studies when you return.”
Relieved, I picked up my pack, sorting the contents to see what other supplies we would need.
“Anything else?” Irys asked.
“No. What are you going to tell the Council?” I asked.
“That Roze has assigned you to learn about your magic from the Story Weavers. The first documented Soulfinder in Sitia was a Sandseed. Did you know that?”
“No.” I was surprised but shouldn’t have been. After all, what I knew about Soulfinders wouldn’t fill a page in one of Master Bain’s history books.
When I finished packing, I said goodbye to Irys and muscled my way through the wind to the dining hall. The kitchen staff always had a supply of travel rations on hand for the magicians. I grabbed enough food to last us a week.
