Sworn To Transfer

them directions and groups were peeling off to go down different streets. They were looking for someone.

For me? she thought in a panic. Do they know about the dead assassin? How could they know?

Stephanie opened the door to a room. Well, “opened” was a nice way to put it; she had to kick in the door after the latch caught on something. “Damn piece of junk,” she murmured as they went inside. Ciardis took in the dust, the cobwebs, and the mothballed sheets covering everything with distaste. It was an artist’s studio long abandoned. Wood easels leaned on the walls and half-finished paintings covered in cobwebs stood in testament to an artist long gone. Ciardis hiked up her new sleeves to ensure none of the dirt got on the long, trailing fabric. There was nothing she could do about the bottom of her skirt except pray.

Closing the door and facing Ciardis, Stephanie asked, “What do you want to be, Ciardis?”

This sounded familiar. “A great Companion—”

Stephanie waved her hand. “No bullshit.”

“I wish you’d stop interrupting me,” Ciardis snapped.

“Look—”

“No,” Ciardis said, standing up straight. Her eyes turned steely as she propped her hands firmly on her waist, trailing fabric forgotten in the heat of the moment. “I’ve had just about enough of this. I was nearly murdered this morning. I’m being targeted and I want to know how to fix it.”

Stephanie waited a moment to see if her tirade had finished. “Fix it?” she said dryly while trailing a finger through dust that had been gathering on a cabinet top for at least a year.

“You can’t fix it,” Stephanie continued, “What you can do is control it...with help. The problem is your powers. You try to help Prince Sebastian and somehow your magical interference ends up spilling over to enhance more than you intended.”

A knock interrupted their conversation, echoing in the room. It sounded like it was coming from behind the wall. Stephanie walked over and opened up a panel in the back of the room.

Out walked a young man with blue eyes, black hair, and a radiant smile.

“Took you long enough,” he said jovially while dusting off his pants.

Stephanie rolled her eyes and examined her fingernails for dirt. She was studiously avoiding his gaze. There was something going there. Ciardis could feel it. The man cleared his throat, looked over at Ciardis, and introduced himself as Christian Somner.

“Well, Christian, are you in on this, too?” Ciardis said.

“In on what?” he said with a polite grin.

“This shadow organization that wants to make me not me.”

Before Stephanie could interrupt, Christian said, “The Shadow Council doesn’t want to change you; we want to mold you.”

Ciardis grinned, triumphant; she had just gotten him to reveal the group. Stephanie slapped him on the back of the head. “You idiot! She wasn’t supposed to know the name.”

He looked over, miffed. “But she said...”

“I was fishing,” Ciardis admitted smugly.

He rolled his eyes. “Well, now that you know the name. What do you truly know about what we are?”

“Nothing,” she admitted.

“Exactly,” he said with his own triumphant eye roll at Stephanie.

She didn’t let go of the glare plastered on her face. “You started this. Why don’t you go right on ahead and finish it?” Let him stick his foot in the stink. She wasn’t going to be in trouble when the Shadow Council heard about it.

Ciardis eyed them both warily. She’d never heard of the Shadow Council. Who were they? What were their goals? Were they a threat to Sebastian or an ally? She knew that today she would find out something about them but the lingering question remained: would it be enough to trust them? To trust Stephanie? The woman had been an excellent fighter during her years as a Companion trainee, but the Companions’ Guild didn’t prepare you to kill someone or dispose of the body. And yet she’d done both without blinking an eye. Not to mention this weird and stealthy way she had about going through the city streets. What did she have to hide?

Besides Companions were skilled, but they weren’t that skilled.

“The Shadow Council is an elite organization of mages created to protect the realm. We recruit the most talented individuals across the land for missions and assignments to ensure that the stability and peace of as well as the security of the empire is always assured,” Christian explained.

Ciardis raised her eyebrows at the rather lofty goals of his Shadow Council.

“Isn’t it the gardis and military’s role to protect the realm? To ensure peace?”

“It is,” he said. “But the gardis’s primary role as the guardians of the realm are to police the city and countryside to ensure general peace. And the military is fighting the battle in the North and has been for quite a while. In the end they cannot do so alone. We have the power and the strength to assure that things are dealt with quickly and secretly.”

Secretly? Ciardis was uneasy about this. They sounded more like an assassin’s league than a council.

“How would you go about that?”

He wagged his finger in rebuke. “I think that’s enough about the Shadow Council for now. Just know that we are on your side.”

“Don’t lie to her,” interjected Stephanie.

He corrected, “Or, rather, Stephanie and I are on your side.”

With a frown, he continued, “There are some in the organization who would prefer you dead.”

“I only just heard about the duke’s plans to kill you this morning,” said Stephanie. “The Council has known about it for days.”

“Is that why you came?” questioned Ciardis. “You went against them to save me?”

Stephanie said softly, “No, sweetheart, we’re here because they decided to give you a second chance. Change your ways, or next time the Shadow Council will be the one to put a contract out on you.”

Chapter 7

Stephanie was kind enough to escort Ciardis back to the gates of the Companions’ Guild. As they parted ways and Stephanie began to walk away, she turned back and quickly reached into her pocket for something. Pushing it into Ciardis’s hand, she said, “Flick this open if you need me in an emergency. And you will need me. Until then, see you around.” And then she was gone.

Unfortunately, just because Ciardis had a death sentence hanging over her head didn’t mean she could shirk her duties. Lady Vana and Lady Serena were waiting in the outer solar room for her. When she arrived, more bedraggled than usual, it raised eyebrows. But thankfully no one aside from Terris, Lady Vana’s Companion trainee and Ciardis’s best friend, was concerned enough to question her about it.

“What happened to you? Did you fall into a ditch again?” asked Terris with frank appraisal while their sponsors set up the afternoon’s activities on the other side of the garden.

“No,” said Ciardis, pouting. “That only happened once.”

“And it’s a day that no one will ever forget,” Terris said with a giggle as she swung a friendly arm about her friend’s shoulders. “The Incident,” as Ciardis liked to refer to it in private, would have been hilarious and something they could have whispered over into the night—if it had happened to someone else.

She had been riding with the Imperial hunting party on a chilly day as they scouted for boar. The meat from the animal was a nice delicacy that would be on the dinner table that cold night. Riding with the party she’d been ambitious and hoped to be noticed for talents beyond her magical abilities – like her graceful riding skills. Which was why she’d chosen to ride sidesaddle. But even a slow pace turned out to be more difficult than she imagined.

Unfortunately that day she’d gotten excited, kneed her mare into a canter, and gone tumbling into the bushes in full view of the Imperial party. She had been humiliated and, what was worse, she’d spooked the mare