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YELENA

Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Clutching the blanket in tight fists, I repeated the words. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Except it failed to work. Panic burned up my throat. I gasped for breath. The words transformed to no magic. No magic. No magic.

The darkness pressed against my skin, sealing me inside my body, blocking me from the warmth and light that was my magic. All my senses had been stolen along with my magic. Sounds, sights and scents gone. A bitter taste all that remained.

No magic. Cut off from the lost souls, disconnected from the wildlife and severed from my colleagues, I’d been rendered useless. No magic.

I stayed on the hard floor of our bedroom huddled under the blanket. My thoughts buzzed with misery. When the sun rose, a bit of relief eased the chaotic terror that had consumed me. My vision worked after all.

A loud bang on the door broke the early-morning quiet and Kiki’s piercing whinny cut right through my conviction that all had been lost. Hooves pounded on wood and I staggered to my feet.

I’m okay, I said. No response. My heart twisted.

“I’m okay,” I shouted over another barrage.

Kiki stopped. But for how long? I grasped the handrail and eased down the steps. Sharp hunger pains stabbed my guts, but I aimed for the door. Kiki’s mostly white face peered through the window. A patch of brown circled her left eye.

As soon as I opened the door, she barged in, almost knocking me over. Not hard to do since I hadn’t eaten in over a day.

I wrapped my arms around her neck. “I’m fine.” Leaning my forehead against her soft hide, I opened my mind to her. Nothing. I breathed in her scent—a mix of dry straw, cut grass and earth.

“I can’t... I don’t have...” Why was it so hard to say? “My magic...is gone. I can’t talk to you.”

Kiki snorted.

“Yes, I know I’m talking to you, but we can’t communicate.”

She pulled away and gazed at me. And while her thoughts didn’t sound in my mind, I understood her sarcastic, what-do-you-call-this look. Then she nudged me with her nose as if prompting me to explain.

Her actions snapped me from my scatterbrained panic. Logic wrestled raw emotion aside and I considered. What happened before my magic disappeared? A lovely evening with Valek, but we’d had a number of them throughout the years without consequences.

And before that? I touched the still-tender area on my upper chest. “The poison! How could I be so stupid?”

Kiki nodded in agreement.

“Thanks,” I said drily. “Now I just have to figure out what poison blocks a person’s magic.” Curare fit, except I’d have been paralyzed and I would have recognized its crisp citrus scent. “The arrow.” Perhaps a few drops of the poison remained.

Kiki followed me to the stable. Poor girl hadn’t been fed grain in over a day. I filled her feed bucket before searching for the arrow’s shaft. It didn’t take long to figure out Valek must have taken it with him.

Valek. Should I join him in Ixia? It’d be safer. And without the taint of magic, the Commander would welcome me with open arms. Ambrose’s aversion to magicians started back in his childhood. Even though he had a female body, he insisted he was male. He dressed as a boy and changed his name. Terrified that a magician would “see through” him, he banned them from Ixia and executed any found within the Territory when he gained power. Plus it didn’t help that the corrupt King was also a magician who had abused his power.

When I accepted my Soulfinding abilities, I discovered the true nature of the Commander’s dual personality. His mother died in childbirth, but she’d refused to leave her newborn son. She had just enough magic that her soul remained with Ambrose, turning him female. I’d offered to guide her to the sky, but the Commander felt her presence aided, not hindered, him. For now.

The Commander’s stance on magicians in Ixia had loosened a bit since he learned of his own magical beginnings, but he still had a long way to go.

Besides, traveling to Ixia wouldn’t help me discover what happened. My condition could be temporary and if so I was freaking out for nothing.

Searching my memories, I reviewed the list of poisons Valek had taught me when I’d been the Commander’s food taster over eight years ago. None of them had side effects that matched my symptoms. Then again, Valek wouldn’t have been worried about a substance that blocks magic. But would he know if one existed? Possible.

How about the Master Magicians? I groaned. First Magician Bain Bloodgood! His knowledge of history and magic was unparalleled, and if he didn’t know about this poison, he’d hunt through his stacks and stacks of books until he found it.

Feeling much better, I returned to the cottage to eat and pack. I checked the hearth and coals in the washroom, ensuring all had been properly extinguished. When I closed and locked the door, a pang of regret vibrated in my chest. Because of the attack, Valek would insist on moving. I rubbed my fingers on the stones. Fond memories swirled. The distance to the stable seemed to stretch, growing longer with each step.

Once I reached the stable, I saddled Kiki. We didn’t use reins or a bridle and normally, I’d forgo the saddle, but the saddlebags were stuffed with enough food and supplies to last a week. I paused. Had Valek and I ever had a full week to ourselves? No.

Kiki grunted, jarring me from my thoughts.

“What’s wrong?”

She jerked the girth’s latigo strap from my hand. I’d pulled it too tight. It took me a moment to understand. It was easy to saddle a horse that instructed you on how tight to make the saddle. I wondered how many other things I would need to relearn—a dreary prospect.

I fixed the girth and mounted. “Back to the Citadel as fast as possible, please.” That remained the same. I’d always let her find the best way and set the pace.

She galloped through the mud. The bright sunshine of midmorning failed to lift my spirits. I scanned the forest, seeking predators. A bird screeched and I ducked. I drew my switchblade when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. And I flattened, hugging Kiki’s neck when a thud sounded behind us.

After a few hours, Kiki stopped for a rest. I stayed by her side, keeping my back against her and my switchblade in hand. Invisible dangers lurked in the forest. A whole army of ambushers could be waiting for us downwind and I’d have no warning.

Panic simmered. I was weak, vulnerable and an easy target. When Kiki stopped for the night, I didn’t light a fire, and the few uneasy hours I slept were spent between her hooves.

By the time we reached the northern gates of the Citadel two days later, I started at every noise. Never had I been so glad to see the white marble walls that surrounded the Citadel reflecting the sunlight. The guards waved us in and I worried. What if the guards conspired with a group inside? What if we were mugged?

I twisted my fingers in Kiki’s copper mane as we crossed through the rings of businesses and factories that occupied the center of the Citadel like red circles around a bull’s-eye. A bustling market lay at the heart of this section. Skirting the crowded stalls, Kiki headed toward the Magician’s Keep, located in the northeast quadrant.

People hustled through the streets, talking, laughing, arguing as they attended to their morning chores. I stared at them. No thoughts or emotions reached me from the crowds. To my senses they had no souls. A horde of walking dead.

I leaned forward and whispered to Kiki, “Faster to the Keep, please.”

She increased her pace, weaving through the busy streets. The logical part of me understood that the shouts and curses following our passage did not come from soulless dead people. However, that knowledge didn’t stop my trembling hands or rapid pulse.

Shocked, I realized my magic had influenced how I viewed the world. I barely remembered how I had interacted with my world without magic. I wouldn’t have thought I relied on my power so much or used it to connect to the people around me in the past six years. Yet, I felt as if I’d been wrapped in a thick black cloth from head to toe. The cloth had holes for my eyes, ears, nose and mouth, but the rest of me remained swaddled.

I eased my tight grip on Kiki’s mane when the Magician’s Keep’s grand entrance loomed. Elegant pink marble columns supported scalloped arches that framed the two-story-high marble doors. The doors were always open, but they were guarded by four soldiers, a magician and a wooden gate.

They straightened as we approached.

“Good morning, Liaison Zaltana. Back so soon?” asked the sergeant in charge.

“Yes, Mally, an urgent matter has cut my vacation short. Is Master Bloodgood in his office?”

She turned to the magician...Jon from the Krystal Clan.

Jon peered at me, questioning. “Can’t you—”

“Not right now,” I said between clenched teeth.

“Oh...kay.” His gaze grew distant. “Yes, First Magician is in his office.” Then he met my gaze. “He’s with a student right now and says to come by in the early afternoon.”

I had no intention of waiting and no desire to tell Jon. Instead, I thanked him. Mally moved aside, but didn’t raise the gate. Kiki jumped the heavy wooden barrier in one easy stride, showing off just like she always did.

The Keep’s administration building sat directly across from the entrance. A few blocks of peach marble marked the yellow structure and a set of grand marble stairs led up to the first-floor lobby.

Kiki stopped at the base of the steps.

I dismounted and patted her sweaty neck. “I’ll catch up with you at the stables and give you a proper grooming.”

She butted my palm with her soft nose, then trotted toward the stables located in the northwest corner of the Keep right next to Irys’s tower. The Magician’s Keep had four towers stationed in each corner. They rose high into the air. Each Master Magician lived in a tower. Right now, only two were occupied. Second Magician Zitora Cowan had resigned her position to hunt for her missing sister and no other magician had the power to be a master. So far. There was always hope that one of the new students at the Keep would mature into master-level powers.

I raced up the steps and into the administration building. And just like its name implied, the structure housed the administrative staff who handled the day-to-day accounts and bills and the details involved in running a school for future magicians. The Masters all had offices inside and the infirmary was located on the ground floor.

Ignoring the staff in the hallways, I headed straight toward Bain’s office. I opened the door without knocking. Not surprised to see me—no one could sneak up on a Master Magician—Bain frowned at my rude intrusion. But one look at my expression and he ushered his student from the room.

Once the girl left he turned to me. He tapped his temple with a wrinkled finger. “Why didn’t you answer me?”

“I can’t. It’s gone. My magic is all gone!” Panic spun in my chest. Tears threatened.

His face creased with concern. He stepped closer and spread his hands. “May I?”

“Yes.”

Bain grasped my shoulders and closed his eyes. I braced for... What? I’d no idea. However, nothing happened.

His eyes popped open in surprise. “You are correct.”

Bain’s confirmation hit me like an avalanche of rocks tumbling down a mountain. Unable to keep it together any longer, my body trembled as tears gushed with each sob. First Magician guided me to an armchair, pressed a handkerchief into my hands and muttered soothing words until my bout of self-pity ran its course.

Ringing for tea, he sat in the armchair next to mine and waited for his assistant to arrive. Deep in thought, he smoothed his white hair. Or rather, he tried. The curls resisted and sprang back into their positions, sticking up at odd angles.

I wiped my eyes with his handkerchief and scanned his messy office. Contraptions in various stages of completion or dissection littered the floor, shelves bowed with piles of books, rolls of parchment covered his desk and numerous shades of ink stained...just about everything, including Bain’s deep blue robe. The scent of jasmine mixed with a tangy aroma filled the room. I wondered if the large arrays of candles scattered throughout were the source of the smell.

When Bain’s assistant arrived, he brought tea and Second Magician Irys Jewelrose, my mentor and friend. Bain must have mentally communicated to her about my arrival. I stood, but she kept her distance as the man poured three cups of tea and set the steaming pot down amid the clutter on the table.

“Do you require anything else, sir?”

“No, thank you.”

He left and Irys rushed over to embrace me. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out.”

Tears welled, but I calmed as I breathed in her comforting apple-berry scent; more crying wouldn’t solve anything. I squeezed her back and moved away. Her emerald-green eyes held concern and a promise.

Bain gestured for us to sit. Two more armchairs faced the ones Bain and I occupied. Irys handed out the cups before settling in. I clasped mine in both hands, letting the warmth seep into my fingers.

Bain gazed at me over the rim of his cup. “Tell us.”

Starting with the attack, I told them everything that had happened. They sat in silence, absorbing the information. Then the questions started. I answered them as best as I could.

“Do you know of a poison that robs a magician of her power?” I asked them.

“No,” Irys said.

After a few moments, Bain said, “I do not know of a substance that has that ability. If it exists, it would be a formidable weapon against magicians.”

“What do you mean if? Do you think I’m making this up?” I put my cup down. It clattered on the saucer.

“No, child. I’m merely considering other possibilities besides poison. Perhaps there is another reason for your condition.”

“Oh. Like a null shield?”

“Correct. Except it is not a shield.”

“How do you know?”

“I can sense your surface thoughts and my magic helped soothe you. Which also means you are not immune to magic.”

I sucked in a breath. Bad enough to be without magic, but to be at its mercy... This was just getting worse and worse.

“Perhaps your magic was siphoned,” Irys suggested. “Opal no longer has the ability, but there’s a chance another magician has learned the skill. There was a gap in time between the arrow strike and your bout of...fever—for lack of a better word.”

If that was the cause, my magic was gone forever. Unless there was a vial of my blood around, which I doubted. So far, no one could duplicate Opal’s glass magic, but Quinn Bloodrose’s magic was also linked to glass.

“What about Quinn?” I asked.

Irys considered. “He’s attending classes here. I don’t think he’s left the Keep. However, we can talk to him. And I can contact Pazia Cloud Mist to see if she has any ideas. Her magic was accidentally siphoned and since then she’s been working with glass, making those super messengers.”

A queasy unease roiled. “I don’t want word to spread about me. I’ve too many enemies.”

“I’ll be discreet and won’t mention you,” Irys said. “I’ll check the logbook at the gate. If Quinn left the Keep, there will be a record of it.”

The vise around my chest eased a little.

“And I will scour all my books for information,” Bain promised. “I am sure Dax will be happy to translate the languages I am unfamiliar with.”

I smiled at Bain’s word choice. My friend Dax would be happy to complain and whine nonstop about the task, but he was trustworthy.

“What can I do?” I asked.

“I suggest you visit Healer Hayes,” Irys said. “There’s a chance you’re sick or he might have some information about what is causing your...condition.”

All good ideas. I leaned back, sinking into the cushions as exhaustion swept through me.

“Does Valek know?” Irys asked.

“No. He left before my symptoms started. I don’t want to alarm him. I’ll message him when I know more.”

“We must search for the assassin, as well,” Bain said. “I’ll contact the security chief. He—”

“No,” I interrupted.

“Then who do you suggest?”

I considered. No doubt Valek’s spies would be hunting for my attacker, but they didn’t have magic or intimate knowledge of Sitia’s back alleys. Two people came to mind—one had magic while the other had the knowledge.

“Leif and Fisk. I trust them both.”

“Would they be willing to work together?” Bain asked.

“They have before. Remember the gang of scam artists that plagued the Citadel a few years ago?”

“Ah, yes. A nice bit of detecting.” Bain tapped his fingers on the edge of his teacup. “However, this assassin may not be from the Citadel or have ties here.”

“Fisk has been branching out to other cities.” I smiled, remembering the dirty street rat who had begged me for money. I’d emptied my pouch into his small hands, but when he approached me a second time, I’d hired him to help me navigate the overwhelming market.

Eventually he founded the Helper’s Guild and recruited other beggar children to help shoppers find good prices, quality merchandise and to deliver packages, all for a small price. His network of guild members also had the unique ability to gather information on the criminal element.

“I didn’t know he’s expanding,” Irys said. “That little scamp. I shouldn’t be surprised.” She sipped her tea. “Well, he’s not so little anymore. It’s a good idea to ask them.”

If they had time. “Is Leif out on assignment?”

“Not right now,” Bain said with a significant look.

Meaning the Sitian Council might have a job for my brother soon, which led to another question. “Should I inform the Council of my condition?”

Bain ran a gnarled hand down his sleeve. Since becoming the First Magician, he’d aged more than just the natural passage of time. His duties included overseeing the Keep and being a member of the Sitian Council—same as Irys. She, too, had aged. Gray streaked her black hair and a few more wrinkles etched her face.

“Not about your lost magic,” Irys said. “Not until we know more. However, we should tell them about the attack. They might have intel from their clans.”

Each of Sitia’s eleven clans had one representative on the Council, and, along with the two Masters, the Council governed Sitia.

Bain straightened in his chair. “I believe we have a plan of attack. I will liaise with the Council and do extensive research. Irys will check the gate logs and talk to Quinn and Pazia. Yelena will visit Healer Hayes and talk to Fisk and her brother, Leif. Did I miss anything?”

“No.” For the first time since the morning I’d woken without my magic, my chest didn’t hurt. Too bad it didn’t last.

“Yes,” Irys said. She leaned forward. “Yelena, you need to keep a very low profile. If you interact with the Keep’s students, they’ll figure it out eventually and then it will be impossible to keep your condition a secret. Plus you’re vulnerable. Whoever did this to you knows magic can influence you. What if they use you to get close to one of the Councilors or the Commander and Valek? Or turn you into an assassin? I’d suggest you ask Leif to weave a null shield into your cloak and, once you’ve talked to Fisk, you need to go into hiding. That’s the safest thing you can do right now.”

Run and hide? That was so not my style.

Shadow Study

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