Authors: Martin Hengst
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Teen & Young Adult, #Coming of Age
Down the spiral staircase, through the library, and out into the city. Volinette didn’t even register the change of scenery. Her focus was on getting back to the School of Sorcery and finding out what was going on with Janessa. Baris made a fair point about taking care of herself, but it just wasn’t in her nature to not worry
about the girl. Adamon and Olin had mentioned censure during their discussions about Volinette’s involvement. She had a hard time believing that they wouldn’t seek the same punishment for the girl who was actually responsible for the crime.
As they approached the obsidian gates outside the Academy grounds, the guard on duty trotted forward.
“Acolyte Terris? Apprentice Jendrek? Where have you been? The Grand Inquisitor has been searching all over for you. You’re to go to the Great Tower immediately.”
The lump in Volinette’s throat grew and grew, threatening to choke her. When she spoke, the only thing that came out was the barest squeak. Baris glanced at her and shook his head.
“Do you know why they’re looking for us?” he asked the guard, who shrugged.
“No idea. Master Vendur just asked that we relay the message if you were seen.”
“Okay, then. Thanks.”
Baris grabbed her arm and yanked her forward. It was probably best that he took the initiative. Otherwise, she might have stayed rooted to the spot forever. The young mage wasn’t wasting any time in answering the summons. They were practically running through the courtyard. As they passed the dormitory, Volinette’s eyes lingered on the door longingly. All she wanted was to go inside, crawl under her covers, and go to sleep. Alas, it didn’t seem that sleep was in her near future.
Volinette and Baris skidded to a halt. The entrance hall of the Great Tower of High Magic was deserted, save for the now familiar form of the lanky Grand Inquisitor in his cloak. When Volinette was small, her grandmother had told her stories of winged demons, creatures with ink black skin, red eyes, and six arms that sought only to snatch away unsuspecting children and spirit them away to the Deep Void. Adamon, in his cloak, stirred memories of that not-so-distant fear in her breast. He might not be a demon, but he was every bit as dangerous in his own way.
“Come along, both of you,” he said by way of a gruff greeting. “We are needed in the Head Master’s chambers at once. I’d suspected that you’d have come along before now.”
“I’m sorry,” Volinette said, stepping toward the brass cage that had carried them to the top of the tower on their previous visit.
“No, not that way.”
Adamon snapped his fingers to catch her attention and held out his hands. Baris seized the
Inquisitor’s hand almost immediately. Volinette took only a moment longer, but she imagined that he’d known her hesitation, that she could see it in his eyes. Adamon spoke a series of words, and the world inverted.
To Volinette, it seemed as if all of Solendrea was passing through her at once, compressed down into a
sickening knot in her stomach. She didn’t move. The world did. Different levels and rooms of the tower passed through her in an instant. Then they were standing in the Head Master’s antechamber.
“Fight it, we don’t have time for cleaning up,” Adamon said. It seemed a silly thing to Volinette, until a wave of crushing dizziness and nausea drove her to her knees.
She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, fighting back the gorge that rose in her throat. Beside her, Baris looked as miserable as she felt. He swallowed loudly, gulping air in a fashion that would have been comical under any other circumstances. It took a few minutes, but they were both able to fight down the sickness that had overcome them.
“What
was
that?” Volinette asked, when she felt that speaking wouldn’t result in her lunch tumbling onto the smooth glass floor.
“Etherwalk,” Adamon said with a dismissive gesture. “Something you won’t be able to do until you’re far more experienced. Enter the Quintessential Sphere in one location, exit
in another, then pull your physical form through behind you.”
“Does it always feel like that?” Baris asked.
“More or less. The more distance you cover, the worse it is. You
can
Etherwalk to any place on Solendrea, though I wouldn’t recommend it.”
There was a muted shout from behind the heavy curtains that had been drawn across the door to the Head Master’s office. Volinette hadn’t noticed the velvet partitions before, but then, they hadn’t been closed on her first visit to Maera’s domain.
“Our attendance is required. Come along.”
Baris tried to protest that he needed another moment to settle his roiling stomach, but his plea fell on deaf ears. Adamon strode across the room and parted the curtains with one arm, ushering them through into a scene that Volinette would have been just as happy avoiding if she’d been given the opportunity.
Janessa sat in a solitary chair across from the Head Master’s desk. Just behind her stood two Masters that Volinette had never met. From their sharp features and matching scowls, it wasn’t difficult to guess that they were Janessa’s parents.
“We demand evidence of these outrageous allegations, Head Master,” Janessa’s father said in a loud voice, as if he could redeem his daughter’s transgression by volume alone. “Surely you are mistaken.”
“The evidence has just arrived.” Maera stood as Volinette entered with Adamon and Baris. “Grand Inquisitor Adamon Vendur, a witness to the crime, Baris Jendrek, and the victim, Volinette Terris.”
Janessa’s parents whirled to face the newcomers. They went pale as Adamon’s name was mentioned
, and Volinette knew that she wasn’t the only one who felt fear in the pit of her stomach when faced by the formidable mage. Their respect for Adamon soon curdled as their eyes slid across Volinette and Baris.
“We demand evidence and you give us children. Is this some sort of joke?”
“Children and a Grand Inquisitor of the Orders,” Adamon replied, his voice cold. “I assure you that no one here considers the crimes of which your daughter is accused the slightest bit amusing.”
“Then present your evidence at once, Inquisitor.” The tone of Janessa’s mother’s voice told Volinette all she needed to know about the daughter’s attitude. It was unlikely that Janessa had ever had to work for anything in her life. Her parents issued commands and they expected those commands to be carried out without delay.
Adamon stared at the pair of them for so long that Volinette was convinced he was making a point. No matter what demands Janessa’s parents might believe they were entitled to, Adamon was still the Grand Inquisitor, and his authority over matters of law within the Orders was paramount. Even Maera, as Head Master, could not directly countermand the Grand Inquisitor on points of law. She would have to convene the High Council of Masters to review his decision.
“You are in no position to demand anything,” Adamon said, apparently satisfied that he’d made them wait long enough. “Your daughter is the accused. The evidence will be presented
, and I will render my judgment.”
Adamon waved his hand, muttering under his breath. Volinette knew that
Inquisitors were notorious for their secrecy, possessing spells unknown outside their circles, but she’d never realized that their secrecy extended to the execution of their spellcraft.
Her curiosity about his methods evaporated as the memory of what had happened in the Hall of Wonders shimmered into view over the Head Master’s desk. Miniature images of Volinette and the other girls moved about in the replica, just as they had on the night the prism was stolen. Janessa shot to her feet as the events played out. She swiped a hand through the
facsimile, but failed to disperse it or even disrupt it in any way.
“This is a lie!”
she blurted, turning to her parents with wide, wild eyes. It was the first time Volinette had seen the girl touched by genuine fear. It was infectious. Volinette felt her stomach clench in sympathy. No matter what Janessa had done, and she’d done plenty, no one deserved to be that afraid. She wasn’t even that afraid of her own parents. What kind of people were Janessa’s parents to instill that kind of fear in their own kin?
“Silence, child,” Janessa’s father demanded, his voice eerily similar to Adamon’s earlier tone.
They watched the events in the Hall of Wonders play out, and the echo of the memory ended in the scrambled mess that Janessa had made of the Ethereal Realm while trying to cover her tracks. Janessa’s mother sank into the chair that Janessa had vacated, holding her face in her hands. Her father turned to Adamon, Volinette, and Baris.
“You swear on your lives that these are the events as they transpired?”
Volinette nodded. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Baris doing the same.
“You’ve seen the living memory of the Quintessential Sphere,” Adamon said. “As a Master of the Orders, do you deny the power or revelations of the Ethereal Realm?”
“You know I can’t, and won’t.”
“Then your question is null and void. You saw the events as they transpired, as our world and the spirits beyond remember it. No swearing by mere mortals is required.”
The color drained from Janessa’s father’s face. He scrubbed his face with both hands. Maera rose from the chair behind her desk, smoothing down the royal purple robes she wore, as if she was reminding everyone of her role in the proceedings. Though her eyes were troubled, her voice was steady and even when she spoke.
“The weight and severity of these crimes cannot be overlooked. Justice must be done. However, I’m sure that the Grand Inquisitor could be swayed toward leniency if only the item were returned. If Janessa would be willing to r
eturn the Transcendental Prism…”
“I can’t
return
what I don’t
have
,” Janessa spat.
“Then I’m sure Master Vendur could be convinced to lessen the punishment required,” Maera continued, ignoring the girl’s heated outburst.
Volinette thought that Adamon looked as if he had no intention of reducing the consequences of Janessa’s actions, but she kept her mouth shut. If discretion were the better part of valor, she’d have earned a medal by the time the night was through. She saw Baris open his mouth and kicked him soundly in the shin. Baris wouldn’t be earning any medals.
Janessa’s father changed tack, sailing into previously explored waters of courtesy.
“Head Master,” he said, inclining his head. “Might we speak to our daughter in private?”
“Of course, Master Navita,” Maera motioned to the curtain separating the main office from the chamber beyond. “My antechamber should suffice.”
Janessa’s parents escorted the protesting girl through the curtain. Olin, who had been observing the proceedings with a stony detachment, came to life and moved to stand by the partition separating the rooms.
The Head Master’s office was dead quiet. Even so, it was impossible to hear the conversation that Janessa and her parents were having beyond the curtain. Except for a few muted outbursts by the girl, they might as well have disappeared from the tower. Volinette shifted from foot to foot. She wanted to be back in her room with the door closed, the light out, and snuggled under her blanket until all of this had blown over.
“What happens now?” she blurted when she couldn’t take the silence any longer. Maera and Adamon exchanged a knowing glance. The Inquisitor shook his head.
“If she continues to claim ignorance of the crime or the whereabouts of the
Prism, I’ll have no choice, Head Master.” Adamon shrugged.
“Surely there must be another way, Adamon. She’s still a girl.” Maera’s eyes searched the
Inquisitor’s face before she turned away, toward the window.
“She has shown a flagrant disregard for our laws, our ways, our heritage, and other mages. She’s a danger to herself and every other
Quintessentialist in the Imperium. Censure is the only way.”
Censure. The word echoed through Volinette’s mind like a pebble dropped down a deep well. Each time the pebble bounced off a wall, the word seemed to get louder and louder. It landed in her stomach like a block of lead, making her feel sick and cold.
The horrors of censure were legend among the people of the Imperium. Tales of mages who went rogue and were caught or who were censured for their crimes, were often told around campfires and tavern tables. Each tale would be worse than the last. Stories of men who lost their minds and went feral, or worse, became homicidal madmen who could no longer stand the company of other people, because the pain of what they had lost was just too great. Entire volumes in the Great Library were dedicated to these tales. Volinette had devoured them with a voracious appetite she didn’t quite understand.
She wanted to plead for Janessa. Surely censure wasn’t the only option, but she found her mouth had gone very dry. No matter how she worked her tongue, she couldn’t manage more than a whisper. That was probably best, she decided, as Adamon didn’t look as if he was in any mood to barter any favors.
Olin stepped away from the curtain, flashing a hand signal to Adamon, who nodded and turned to face the entrance. Maera turned as well, and they all focused their attention on the velvet partition as it was pushed aside.
Janessa’s father entered first. His jaw was tight and his eyes were fixed straight ahead. He acknowledged no one else in the room as he entered and waited for his daughter and wife to follow. Janessa came next, her chin raised in her typical haughty manner. The most significant change was in Janessa’s mother. While she had left as a hard, cold woman, she returned with red, swollen eyes that betrayed her tears. Her shoulders were stooped. She was a woman who had admitted defeat. Volinette had seen that look before in many singing competitions. This time, though, the consequences of failure were much direr.
Adamon addressed Master Navita as soon as they had all entered the Head Master’s office.
“You’ve had your time to confer, Master Navita. Your daughter stands accused of these crimes, witness
has been brought, but yet she denies the claims. Further, she will not return the stolen artifact. Have you been able to convince your daughter to cooperate?”
At Adamon’s question, Janessa’s mother burst into fresh tears. Janessa’s shoulders jerked a little straighter. Volinette winced in sympathy. The brave front Janessa was putting on was just that, a front. Janessa’s father worked his jaw for a moment, then lowered his face to the floor.
“No, Grand Inquisitor, despite our pleas, she maintains her innocence.”
“Very well. Janessa Navita, I find you guilty of crimes against the Imperium and the Orders. I sentence you to censure. You will be remanded into custody until such time as the Rite of Censure can be scheduled.”
Janessa’s mother rushed to Maera’s side. She clutched the royal purple robes, bunching them between her bony fingers.