Page 4 of Sword & Sacrifice

Valerian shook his head.

“I will pay for your schooling now, and once you finish, you will work for this estate as our personal mage.”

Valerian thought of his future, chained to Krasna Manor for the rest of his life. Lorde Endre would pass away eventually, and then Valerian would be at Maksim’s mercy. Nothing seemed worth that, but if he accepted … he would have years, decades away from this place. “What if I wanted to repay you another way?”

Clearly taken aback by this question, the lord’s eyebrows shot up. “Well,” he began slowly, “these lessons are costly. Sponsoring you is considered an investment. Do you know what that means?”

“You want to receive more than you’ve paid for.”

Lord Endre chuckled uneasily. “You are a smart one, aren’t you? Yes, that is the point. I will pay a large amount for your schooling now to benefit me later. If you simply paid me in gold the same amount I gave you, that could potentially hurt me instead of help me. Prices rise every year, after all.”

“You could charge interest,” Valerian replied.

“I could, but you must understand, most mages are not paid lavishly. You would also need to pay for your own food and lodgings, which I am happy to continue providing if you remain in my employ. It would be a much more beneficial deal for you to simply work for me.” He smiled, expecting Valerian to immediately agree with him.

“I’d like a contract, sir,” Valerian said, trying to make himself sound as mature as possible to be taken seriously.

“A contract?” Lord Endre echoed, blinking in surprise. “Whatever for?”

“I want a document stating exactly what the repayment terms are—in years of employment or in gold.”

It was the lord’s turn to silently stare at Valerian. Then he carefully pulled a sheet of parchment toward himself and began to write.

Valerian sat with his hands fisted on his thighs, aching in anticipation, as Lord Endre wrote their contract. Once it was complete, Valerian read it over, pointed out areas he wanted clarified, and then requested his own copy. The whole time, the lord looked at him with a mix of bafflement and wary respect. At the end, they both signed three copies. One Valerian took with him, one to be filed with the town clerk, and one tucked into Lord Endre’s desk.

Valerian clutched his copy as he hurried back to the classroom. He stared down reverently at the lord’s neat writing, re-reading the terms for the fifth time. I’m getting out of here. I’m leaving! I’ll never see that toad-faced brat again!

A hand snatched the contract from him. Valerian cried out and tried to grab it, then froze as he looked into Maksim’s face.

“What’s this?” Maksim demanded. “Is this why father wanted to speak with you?”

“Give it back.” Valerian tried to remain calm. If he made too much of a fuss, Maksim might tear the parchment into tiny pieces. There are two other copies, he reminded himself, his heart pounding. Even if he destroys it, the contract still exists. I’ll still study magic. I’ll still escape him.

As Maksim read, his expression darkened. Nostrils flared, lips pulled back in a snarl, eyes bulging. “You’re going to study magic?” he demanded. “No. I won’t allow it. I’ll tell Father you can’t go.” Then he narrowed his eyes. “No … wait. If you’re going, maybe I’ll go with you. Yes, of course! Then I can study magic, and you can still be there to take my punishments.”

Valerian tackled him. He knew he should restrain himself—he hadn’t received the money for his education yet—but he couldn’t stand the thought of Maksim ruining his shining new future. Valerian pushed Maksim to the floor and landed a few blows before he roared and flipped them over.

A year older and twenty pounds heavier, Maksim soon had the upper hand. He pinned Valerian to the ground and punched him in the face.

Blood spurted and Valerian’s vision went black for a moment. He couldn’t breathe through his nose and when he gasped for air, Maksim’s weight on his chest smothered him. Something wet soaked the back of his clothes and it took him a moment to realize his lashes, still numbed from the salve, had reopened.

Satisfied that Valerian wouldn’t stand up any time soon, Maksim pushed himself to his feet. He reached for the contract, then noticed the blood soaking the edges and reared back in disgust. “You don’t leave unless I say you can,” he told Valerian before storming off.

Valerian stared up at the ceiling, half-dazed. Once he caught his breath, he rolled over, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the pain. When he opened them again, he spotted the stained contract. There are other copies, he reminded himself. But he still wanted that one, even if he couldn’t read it anymore. He grabbed the edge, then paused.

A spider rested on one corner.

That’s not right. With one swift smack, he squashed the spider under his palm.

Looking up again, Valerian found himself not in the halls of Krasna Manor, but a forest of towering trees. The bark on the trees had an odd, mirror-like sheen. In the depths of the closest one, he saw himself at twelve years old, clutching that damned contract.

His head fell back to the ground, covered in dirt and leaf debris, and he grit his teeth in frustration. Now that he wasn’t reliving his own past, he remembered Alistair ensnaring him with roots and dragging him deep into the shadows of his own mind. Niall cutting off Valerian’s mental protections and filling the room with sleep smoke. Traveling to Causley Estate with Penn, on a mission to find the traitorous adviser and finding the Witch instead. Adelaide’s words of warning: you not only unlocked a door, you left it open. A mad dash to save Penn from disgruntled soldiers.

But before all of that, before any of the adventure began, Valerian remembered sitting in an office, Alistair Lindstrum’s unconscious body laid out before him, and a cherry pit clenched in one hand as he planted a part of himself in Alistair’s mind.

And now Alistair had trapped Valerian in his own damn memory forest. He had to find a way out, back to Penn and the others. He had to find a way to defeat Alistair.

Flopping over onto his back, Valerian looked up at the tree canopy. Thick spiderwebs blotted out whatever sky there was in this mental landscape. Spiders scurried across the branches before disappearing into the shadows. Though they ranged in size, they were all monstrous and deadly. He didn’t know how to kill them, or if killing them would allow him to escape, but it gave him something to focus on other than the lingering pain of long-ago wounds.