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She rolled her eyes. “I’m torn on that one. Fae should be able to research their own ailments, but not everyone is carrying a rare curse that makes their brain bleed. Sometimes it’s just a headache.”
I held up my hands in defense. “I’d love it if Zaria’s condition was that easy. Will you let me in?”
“Come tonight.”
EIGHTEEN
ZARIA
After the disaster of yesterday’s magic session, I refused to leave my rooms for the combat arms lesson. I couldn’t handle another run-in with Nyx. I’d intended to hide out in my rooms all night, skipping dinner so I would not see him at all. But Kol had better ideas, and we ended up at his favorite tavern again. It was a late night, but I enjoyed the fruit drink again and left the ale to the dragons.
In the morning, I braved the mess hall for breakfast on my own for the first time. After that, my intention had been to find Kiera for some pleasant company or just keep to my room. However, a note was handed to me in the mess hall, inviting me to meet with the arms master.
I could very easily tell Nyx I refused to go, but a direct summons from some unknown weapons expert was not something I was going to refuse. I was hard-headed, not foolish. However, the arms master was not at all what I had expected.
“Good morning. You must be Zaria.” A petite female crossed the space to greet me. She couldn’t have weighed more than seven stone soaking wet, and she was at least half a head shorter than me. “I’m Hazel, the arms master.”
My face must have shown my surprise. but she was all business and seemed in a hurry to get started as she pointed to a side room in the hall. “You can find some gear that fits in there, then come over, and we can see where your skills are.”
I shouldn’t have, but I stared, and I couldn’t form words.
“You do speak, don’t you?” she asked, but not unkindly.
“Forgive me…” My brows pulled together as I tried to remember what she’d said.
“Spit it out. I’ve heard it all before.” Her words would have seemed sharp if not for the knowing smile that broke across her face.
“I didn’t expect a female to be the arms master,”I admitted.
“Most don’t, but we don’t discriminate in the Storm Kingdom. We are a tough breed of fae, prepared for anything. The general, may he rest with the Goddess, loved to recruit us as teachers for the more unusual skills as well, like tracking, hiding, and dead reckoning, and all the best of us are female.” She winked. “But you shouldn’t be so surprised. I hear you have some skill with a sword yourself.”
Just how had she heard that? My cheeks heated. “I had to learn in secret because I’m female, so you’ll have to be the judge of my skill.”
“What backward arse place thinks females shouldn’t know how to defend themselves?” She huffed, but when I cringed, she apologized. “I mean no insult to your blood. There are more reasons than combat for females to know how to defend themselves. I think everyone should know their way around a knife or a sword, but my culture differs from most.”
“I lived in an isolated community in the Fifth Kingdom before I came here. Females were subject to many more rules that males, but I agree, we should all know how to defend ourselves. That was my motivation, mistress.” She was a teacher, so I deferred to her as an elder, even though she seemed not many years above my age.
“No need to call me that. Hazel will do fine.”
“Hazel.” Calling someone in authority by their given name felt strange, but I didn’t want to end up on her bad side.
She smiled, and I relaxed a little. She was nothing like Rakan, thank the Goddess.
“Are you a flyer?” I asked, knowing I’d got the term right, but still feeling weird about asking.
“I am. I’m a dragon like your flyer. Most of us from the Storm Kingdom are.” She nodded at the supply closet. “Go get some gear so I can see your skills.” She was a busy type, obviously. Happy to converse but not while idle.
I nodded, always feeling like I knew less than everyone around me. I didn’t even know the simple facts like which kingdom Storm was. Our elders only called the kingdoms by their numbers—another indication that my education was full of holes, which left me looking like an idiot at every turn. I needed to ask Kol if he could get me some books, so I could at least learn the basics.
When I returned with the proper padding, Hazel offered me a wooden sword identical to the one I used at home. Even the weight felt familiar in my hands. I pressed my eyes closed for half a second as sadness hit me square in the gut. Luka. Sorrow twisted in my chest. I didn’t know if he was dead or alive—I didn’t know if any of my family was. Nyx had rescued me from danger in the moment, and I understood that. But I still didn’t understand why I couldn’t go back now the danger had passed, nor could I really grasp why we’d been persecuted.
A light touch jarred me from the grief. “Are you okay?” Hazel asked.
I nodded, sucking in a slow breath so as to not embarrass myself further.
“Do you want to come back tomorrow? There will be students here in an hour, but I wanted to assess your level, so I know which class to put you in. I have a free hour tomorrow, too, though, if that would suit you better.” Her empathy hurt my heart more.
“No, I only need a moment.” Perhaps I should have taken her up on her offer, but I needed to be doing something. Whatever it took to gain the skills I needed to allow me to return to my home. I couldn’t justify putting it off. Not with the accord I had with Nyx.
