She smiled. “You have a smudge of mage smoke on your cheek.” Her eyes flitted over their shoulders and her face tightened. “Excuse me, I have business with Master Lars. Enjoy your stay.” Abruptly, she turned back the way she’d come.
Kierion glanced behind them. “Now, here’s someone I wish you’d use your mage power on,” he whispered. “Sofia’s been spreading lies about Ezaara, saying she not the Queen’s Rider. That her bloodline’s wrong. Apparently, some dumb prophecy is broken. Yesterday she even told someone Ezaara had murdered the real Queen’s Rider so she could ride Zaarusha.”
“But Ezaara seems nice.” What he’d seen of her, anyway.
“She is.” Kierion’s vehemence startled Fenni. He drew himself up. “I’ll walk on my own while that guttersnipe is around,” Kierion muttered. “No point in showing weakness to your enemy.”
That was it. Riders and wizards didn’t have to be enemies if they worked together. It wasn’t your vocation that made you enemies. It was whether your goals aligned.
Within a few paces, the girl passed them, her blond curls bouncing.
“Hello, Sofia,” Kierion called. “Got a moment?”
The girl wheeled. “What? So you can play a prank on me?”
Fenni grinned. Troublemaker or not, Sofia knew Kierion.
“Of course not.” Kierion put a hand on the wall to support himself. “I just wanted to introduce you to a friend.”
Fenni moved closer to Kierion in case he toppled over.
Sofia cocked her head at Fenni. “I haven’t seen you around. Have we met?”
“Not yet,” said Fenni. “Nice to meet you.” He extended his hand, letting a little wizard power trickle through his fingertips.
She grasped his hand then dropped it. “You have hot hands,” she said, shaking her hand—as if that would ease the wizard sting.
“I’d like to remind you to support the Queen’s Rider.” Fenni gave Sofia a smile that was all teeth.
Sofia’s face twisted. “What? That murdering usurper?”
“Ezaara is Queen’s Rider,” Kierion said, “and you should respect her. Her bond has been tested and proven.”
“By an ex-traitor,” she snapped.
“He’s proven himself thrice over here at Dragons’ Hold, helping save Ajeuria and assisting when the queen was poisoned by Fleur.”
Sofia spat at Kierion’s feet.
Fenni twitched his hands, but Kierion touched his arm briefly, warning him not to interfere. Fenni fumed. No one spat at his friends and got away with it. This girl was a nasty piece of work.
“Well,” she said, “won’t you be pleased to hear what’s happened to Roberto?”
Who was Roberto?
Next to Fenni, Kierion’s body tensed. “Oh? What now?” He yawned, as if he didn’t care.
Fenni knew that artificially casual tone. Roberto must be a good friend of Kierion’s. This woman was on dangerous ground.
She grinned. “Master Roberto is being held captive by Zens,” she sneered. “I’ll bet you didn’t know that.”
“Is that all?” Kierion acted disinterested, but Fenni could feel the change in Kierion’s sathir, the anger simmering beneath the surface.
Sofia stalked past Kierion—and found her way blocked by a wall of green mage flame. She spun, face suddenly pale in the torchlight. “You’re a—”
“Yes, I am,” said Fenni.
She dashed in the other direction. Fenni waved a hand and another wall of flame sprung up.
“Sofia,” he said, holding out his hand and examining his nails. Sparks dripped off his fingertips, bouncing on the stone at her feet.
She hopped from foot to foot, avoiding them.
Fenni sped up the sparks. Now she was literally dancing. “It’s not nice to demean your Queen’s Rider.”
“It’s not nice to trap people with wizard flame,” she snapped, eyes burning with hatred.
“Of course not, but then again, I’m a wizard. Wizards aren’t nice.” A fireball shot from his fingers, flying at her head.
She ducked. “You sharding beast,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Do you promise to be loyal, now?” Fenni asked softly. The fireball circled Sofia, getting closer, until she stood stock still, her arms pressed against her sides, not daring to move. “Or do I have to visit you again?”
“You, you …” she faltered. “Yes. I’ll be loyal. I promise.” Her eyes slid away.
There was nothing more he could do. He’d get in enough trouble for threatening her. Fenni snapped his fingers and the fireball flew into his palm. He closed his hands, extinguishing it. “Thank you, Sofia.”
Sofia bolted, flinging words at them. “And I look forward to seeing Kierion before Lars and Tonio, explaining what this jumped-up mage trainee is doing here.”
“That was fun,” said Kierion, once she was gone.
“Come on, let’s get you to the latrines and back to the infirmary.”
When they returned, Marlies was concerned. “You’d better leave, Fenni. Riona will take you back to Mage Gate immediately. Alban’s been in here, asking about you. We don’t want a fight on our hands.” She shoved Fenni’s clothes at him. “Keep the riders’ garb. You may need it in the future.”
“Thank you.” Fenni fastened his cloak about him. Did she want him to keep the garb to fight with Kierion again? He’d thought all riders hated mages. He strode outside, mounted Riona and they were soon swallowed by the inky-black night.
§
As Fenni and Riona descended to Mage Gate, a volley of mage flame shot at them, no doubt one of Master Starrus’ defensive tactics. Conjuring an ice shield, Fenni stopped the fire. Riona landed with a thump in the soft snow, staying barely long enough for him to slide off her back.
He didn’t blame her; no one wanted to be attacked. Although, he’d just threatened Sofia. Did that make him just as bad? No, the hostile snipe had needed to be stopped—he trusted Kierion’s instincts. He held a hand high, sparks flitting from it to guide him across the dark clearing, the snow still pocked with gouges from their duels.
Within moments, he was surrounded by members of
