Chapter 12
Yin
I wake early that morning, but they don’t open my door until midday.
For hours I sit there with no food, no water, and nothing but those drab stone walls to keep me company.
At first, I feel desperate, then I feel defeated, and then, well, I feel angry.
I stay angry.
But the more that anger grows, the more I notice something odd. Whereas at first the enchantments protecting this room hold my magic back, the more I fight against them, the more it works. Though the power still won’t coil from my bangle, leap across my skin, and sink into the stone, soon I can make them hiss and crackle just under my flesh. I can feel them, see them, and hear them. The more I try to push them out, the easier it becomes.
As I sit there facing the door, I keep calling on the power within until I hear the bolt grate back.
I expect to see Yang. In my mind, nobody else will come to torment me.
But it isn’t him. In fact, it isn’t a man at all.
With soft footfall, a woman enters my room.
She is much older than me, possibly in her early 50s, but she has an elegant grace about her. She’s slim, and her silver-flecked black hair is kept tied back in a neat bun adorned with a jade-studded comb. She’s in a delicate light blue robe with gold and black trimming, and she holds herself just like a statue. I’ve never seen a back straighter, and nor have I seen an expression haughtier.
“Who are you?” I ask bluntly, in no mood to be polite. But then again, when am I ever in a mood to be polite?
The woman doesn’t react, or at least she doesn’t say anything. She does arch her neck and stares down her nose at me. “Your hair is full of mud, and your clothes are tattered and torn,” she points out.
I look at her pointedly. “Oh gosh, I didn’t notice. Thanks for pointing that out.”
“A soldier of the Royal Army is expected to keep clean and neat at all times,” she says with a sniff.
“Are they? I suppose looking good is more important than actually being good,” I quip.
“Do you enjoy sleeping in the mud and tracking it across your bed?” she stares in distaste at my silt-covered pillow.
“Well, I’ve kind of been trapped in this room for the past 20 hours without food and water. I’m sorry if my pillow offends you.”
“You are an impetuous, unruly child. I can see why they warned me about you. I predict right now that you will be untrainable, and that the army will have to dispose of you.”
I look up sharply at the term dispose. Though fear starts to rise in me, I damp down on it. I do it with anger. I burn right through that fear, snarling as I do. “I predict right now that if you try to do anything, I will knock down your base.”
The woman raises an eyebrow. “Be warned, we will not tolerate your childish threats. Either you will perform in our training sessions, or the army will dispose of you. There is no one else to turn to, no one you can rely on, and the only way we will respond favorably to you is if you show yourself to be a loyal, trainable soldier.”
“Where is Castor?” I ask blankly.
“You will not see him. He is engaged in a task for the Royal Family, and you, my child, will never go anywhere near them.”
I stand. Slowly.
I know when I’m being threatened.
“There are countless enchantments protecting this room. You can’t call upon your magic here,” the woman suddenly warns, for the first time looking more like a person and less like a statue.
I go to open my left hand and show the woman just how much magic I supposedly can’t call upon, then I stop.
Now Castor is not by my side, it is up to me to protect myself. It is up to me to keep my secret safe.
I let my hand drop unwillingly to my side. Then I stare at the woman, and I wait.
She rolls her eyes and pinches her nose. “Training will begin immediately, though you will be given time to clean and dress in appropriate clothes,” she adds as she stares at my sandals.
I don’t say anything.
I control myself.
But barely.
While my magic is burning through me, begging to be let out so I can teach this arrogant woman a lesson, my mind controls it.
I’m doing this for Castor, I tell myself. I will find him, and I will find out what’s going on here. Then I will convince him to flee, and we will begin our lives anew. I don’t have time for this stupid misadventure in the Royal City; I must spend every day training if I have any hope of defeating the Night.
Yet, if I want to get out of here, I have to be careful. I can’t burn through the walls; there are enough soldiers around here to stop me. This time, they might just kill me too.
I have to be careful.
It’s only with that realization that I follow the woman and allow myself to be cleaned and dressed.
I tell myself I will play their game until I see an opportunity. And, just as Castor taught, I will take that opportunity, and I will burn down any obstacle that gets in my way.