The slave Sefaro ran my house-they called it the “Gray House.” He laid out whatever clothes I needed and had my meals brought to my sitting room when I said I wanted it that way. The dining room downstairs seemed awfully big just for me. Every moment I was not training or eating, I slept. I dreamed a lot about Papa and Lucy. Xeno was in my dreams, too, holding his belly together so his entrails wouldn’t leak out, along with that drooling slave that could have been me. And I kept dreaming those things about Comigor that were more real than life. Every morning when I woke up, I wanted to go right back to training. I was determined to be as good as Papa-better-because then I could kill the prince that murdered him and caused all this trouble.
Some things I missed about Comigor-though it got harder and harder to remember exactly what. Books mostly. Books were one of the few things I asked for that Sefaro could not get for me. He knelt in front of me and spread his arms wide, saying that I could kill him if I wanted, but no books could be had in Zhev’Na. I was really angry with Sefaro, because I thought it couldn’t be true that there was no book in the entire fortress. I even imagined what it might feel like to stick my knife in him. But I didn’t kill him. Even if he were lying about the books, it didn’t seem like a bad enough thing to kill him for. Later that night, when I thought about how scared he looked when he told me, and what I had considered doing to him, I felt really strange… freezing cold inside. No one had ever been scared of me before. Zhev’Na was different that way. Killing was a lot more common than in Leire. I would just have to get used to it.
A few days after Xeno was executed, Darzid came to visit me. He stood at the side of the fencing yard and watched while Calador whacked me hard with his sword and then teased me while I tried to counter. Scratching or pricking me on my arms or cheeks or legs while I tried to get in a stroke was one of Calador’s favorite things to do. That day he kept on longer than ever and started mocking me with his empty-eyed laugh that wasn’t friendly at all. I knew Captain Darzid was watching, so I tried really hard to get in a good thrust, but Calador wouldn’t stop. My arms were stinging and bleeding. Calador whisked the tip of his sword across my forehead, and more blood dribbled down my face. I was so tired I could hardly lift my rapier. Then Captain Darzid started laughing, and the horrid sun beat down, making my head pound and my bruises hurt, and before I even could think, I clenched my left fist and pictured what I wanted.
Calador’s sword flew out of his hand and stuck into the stone wall. I poked the point of my rapier up to his belly. I very much wanted to push it in and make him scream instead of laugh. But Calador was not laughing anymore. Nor was the captain. All of a sudden I realized what I had done. Sorcery.
I backed away from the two of them until I was in a corner of the yard, holding my sword out in front of me and wishing it weren’t shaking so badly. They would either kill me right there or call for soldiers to take me to prison. But Calador dropped to his knees in front of me and bowed his head all the way to the ground. Darzid folded his arms across his chest. Without any laughing or sniggering, he said, “Bravo, my lord. A fine move. Skillfully done. You should kill the bastard. You can, you know. Go ahead. Do it if you wish.”
I just stared at the captain while blood trickled down my face and my arms, and the sun hammered on my head.
“Do you think that what you did should bother me or surprise me?”
I nodded stupidly.
The captain crouched down until his dark face and glittering eyes were close to mine. “I know what you are, Gerick. I know more about you than you know yourself. I’ve known about your ‘talent’ since the day you were born.”
“You knew I was evil?”
“You are what you are.”
“Why didn’t you tell Papa, then? Why did you help me?”
“Tomas wouldn’t have understood. He would have burned you alive, just as you suspected he would. What I’ve done is bring you to the one place in the universe where such things do not matter. I’ve brought you to a place where you belong. This is your land, Gerick. Not Leire, not Valleor, not anywhere in the Four Realms. Not anywhere green or soft or weak or common. You know what you are, and you know that this is exactly where you should be.” He waved his hands at the broken red cliffs and ugly plains. Then he grinned a very wide grin. “Now teach this insolent servant a lesson, and then we will go have something to drink and a talk.”
I looked carefully at Darzid, but for once he wasn’t smirking or pretending. Calador was still kneeling with his forehead on the dirt. My blood boiled over like soup bubbling out of a pot. With the hilt of my sword I whacked Calador across the back of his head as hard as I could. He toppled over onto the ground.
Captain Darzid laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. “Well done. He’ll think twice before touching you again.”
It felt very good to teach Calador a lesson. I hated him.
We went up to my rooms, and while two slaves washed the blood and dirt off me and dressed me in clean clothes, Captain Darzid ordered Sefaro to bring food and wine. When I sat down at the table with him, he poured wine for both of us. “I’ve been waiting for you to demonstrate your power, Gerick. You control yourself very well.”
“They don’t burn sorcerers here?” I didn’t want to, but I had to ask it.
Darzid laughed and gulped down a great gobletful of wine. “Not as a rule-unless they’re our enemies-and in that case, any mode of death is fair. No, in Zhev’Na you are free to do as you please with your talents. In fact, there are those here who can teach you to use them to your advantage, just like your sword and your knife and your fists.”
I thought about that while I ate. Darzid waited for me to speak, drinking another cup of wine. “Captain, are the Lords of Zhev’Na at war with Prince D’Natheil?”
“You have assuredly inherited your mother’s renowned intelligence, young sir. Indeed, one could say that the war between the Lords of Zhev’Na and D’Natheil is a conflict beside which King Evard’s adventures are no more than a chess match. This is a war for the control of two worlds. And it has been going on for a thousand years.”
“When do I get to meet the Lords?”
“Quite soon, now you’ve shown your power and learned you are accepted here. They wanted to make sure you trusted them before revealing themselves to you. They wish to welcome you as a valuable ally.”
Now he was making fun of me. I wasn’t stupid. “But I’m not a valuable ally. Someday I might be so, but for now I can only do silly things, baby things. You saw my sword fighting. And I’m not eleven for weeks yet.”
“The Lords are aware of all this, but, as you will discover, they deem your loyalty valuable beyond your imagining. There is power to be gained that neither Tomas nor Evard could dream of. There are battles to be fought that only you can win, and the first engagement is fast approaching. All your courage will be required, and all your intelligence and determination. I can tell you this, young Gerick. Your life will be very different from what you might have expected, but if you keep to your purposes, anything you desire-anything at all-will be yours.” He tugged at my hair a little. “For now, I would advise you to continue your training. Grow strong and hard like your new home.” He left without eating any supper.