Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2) (18 page)

 “I can go sleep in the
stable with the horses if it’s easier for you.” She flipped the covers over
Qaliah to conceal her nakedness.

The fiendling flipped off the
covers and repositioned herself on her side of the bed before drawing them up
to her chin. “I can behave myself. If you’re not interested, you’re not
interested. I’m sad for you.”

Gisella slid off the bed and
picked up her belongings. Qaliah gasped. “You were serious? Don’t go!”

The Golden Slayer looked over her
shoulder. The girl’s expression was one of concern. “It’s no trouble, really.”

“Look, I’m sorry if I made you
uncomfortable just now, but those men downstairs? They weren’t looking at me
like they wanted to have some fun, all right? I noticed. I really do not want
to be alone in here. I’ll go sleep with the dwarf and minotaur if I have to. In
fact, I will.” She slid out of bed and pulled on her clothes. Gisella remained
silent as she gathered her things and left.

Gisella sighed, dropped her pack,
and then crawled under the covers. It was not the outcome she intended, but she
wasn’t going to squander the opportunity of a peaceful night’s rest.

* * *

By the end of her first day under
the tutelage of Master Valyrian, Delilah understood the breadth of the gaps in
her knowledge. There were whole schools of magic about which she’d never heard.
Both she and Pancras were fairly specialized in their knowledge of wizardry,
and though they performed a smattering of the arcane arts outside their areas
of expertise, Delilah realized she should have worked alongside him to learn as
much as possible. Instead, her own pride in her abilities convinced her she
knew as much as he did, albeit in a different discipline.

Master Valyrian was more patient
than the archmage was with her, and she was grateful official guild business
kept Archmage Vilkan from bothering to find her over the next couple of days.
She said as much to Katka one night as they prepared for bed.

“I don’t know why he thinks he
needs to watch me constantly. I’m here now, I’m learning, and I’m not going
anywhere.”

Katka brushed her boots, trying
to knock as much dirt and mud from them as possible. “I’ve heard other masters
say he likes to control everything. They don’t like him much, I don’t think.”

“Why’d they let him become
archmage, then?” Delilah didn’t understand why someone didn’t just kick him out
if they disliked him that much.

“Maybe they didn’t have a
choice.” Katka blew dust off her boot. “How’s Master Valyrian? He’s so pretty.
I could watch him all day.”

Delilah chuckled and shook her
head. “His skin is too smooth, and he’s foppish. I have to admit, though, he
knows his magic. I’m going to pass the next trial.” She was sure of it. Delilah
suspected the only reason she failed the first time was because she didn’t know
how to create a magical shield. She’d heard students utter the words to create
the effect, but knowing the words was not the same as understanding how to use
them effectively. Without practice, she had no hope of executing one of those
spells in the heat of the moment.

Dropping her boots onto the floor,
Katka lay across her bed and interlaced her fingers behind her head. “I hope I
pass this next time. I’m not the oldest initiate by any stretch, but I’ve been
here the longest.”

“You have to really focus for
attack magic.” Delilah wanted to see the girl advance. She enjoyed the young
human’s company, and she wanted them to be able to continue helping each other.
“Everything you’ve got, you know? In the heat of battle, you don’t have time to
finesse a spell with the idea that you can add more power the next time. There
might not be a next time.”

“I guess. I’ve never even been in
a fight.” Darkness crept in around them as the other students extinguished
their lights. Delilah blew out her candle, and Katka followed suit.

She crawled into bed and faced
the other student’s bunk. “Maybe we can practice tomorrow. I’ll help if I can.”

“Thanks, Delilah.”

Sleep came quickly to Delilah.
She dreamt of her brother and her friends, and also Sarvesh and Bargle back in
Drak-Anor. When morning came, she was refreshed, but upon hearing the
archmage’s summons, she wanted nothing more than to crawl back in bed. She
pulled herself together and gave a weak smile to Katka as she ran to meet with
the archmage.

Archmage Vilkan paced the floor
of the Court of Wizardry. Other high wizards were in attendance, but they
conversed with each other and paid no mind to the archmage. He stopped pacing
when he saw Delilah.

“It’s about time, Initiate Drak.
Where have you been?”

Delilah wanted to bash him in the
face with her staff. “I ran over here as soon as I heard the summons.”

He stroked his beard. “No matter.
You will attend me today. The archduke is paying us a visit. I’ll give you both
a demonstration of true power.”

Delilah wanted nothing to do with
the Archduke of Muncifer, nor with the archmage’s demonstration of power. She
smoothed her robes. She bowed her head and nodded. “As you wish, Archmage.”

* * *

Kale stroked the side of Kali’s
head as she lay with her head in his lap. She held the broadsheet above her
head and read it for the third or fourth time. “You know, I think we can use
this sacred drak thing to our advantage.”

He looked down at his mate. “How
do you mean?”

“If he’s excited about Delilah
telling him about Drak-Anor, he should be even more excited to get a second
perspective, right?”

Draks generally viewed their
striped brethren as sacred. When the draks from Kale and Delilah’s clan learned
they were hatched from the same egg, their attitudes changed. They viewed twins
as just one step above abominations. Having stripes was the only thing that
saved Kale and Delilah from having been abandoned at birth because the elders
couldn’t decide which took priority: that they had stripes or that they were
twins.

“I don’t know. Is this a good
idea? Maybe if you can convince him to come up here to talk. I don’t want to
get mobbed in the undercity again.” Kale didn’t mind being the center of
attention when he did something that deserved it, but the adoration of the
draks in the undercity made his skin crawl.

“I’ll go ask.” Kali let the paper
fall to the floor. “You should get them used to seeing you walking around,
though. We can’t stay cooped up in here all the time. The weather is becoming
warmer, and it would be a shame to stay inside. There will be enough of that in
the winter.”

Kale conceded the point. “Maybe
if I cough some fire on them, they’ll keep their distance.”

“Ooh, we might be able to use
that, too.” Kali sat up and spun to face him. “You’d be a great distraction for
an enterprising pickpocket.”

“I thought we wanted to stay out
of trouble.” Kale did not fancy seeing the inside this city’s jail. Once in
Muncifer was enough.

“Trouble sure, but I wouldn’t
mind having a little fun, you know?” She reached over and stroked Kale’s cheek.
“I’ll be honest, I don’t want to stay cooped up in here, but I don’t want to go
all over town without you. You’re my mate. We’re in this together. That’s what
we said, right?”

“Right.” Kale took her hand and
closed his eyes. Despite having his mate alongside him, he felt alone without
Delilah nearby. So many things remained unsaid between them when she entered
the Arcane University compound. Since she was sequestered there, he feared
there might not be a chance to clear the air. He understood her resentment of
Kali, but they had often discussed how they would eventually have to follow
their own paths. He realized now that neither one of them ever really believed
the time would come to pass.

Kali’s right about one thing: we
can’t stay cooped up in here.
As he fell asleep, he ruled out
ideas one by one of how best to handle unruly crowds. A feeling of hopelessness
followed him into his dreams and fitful sleep. The next morning, Kale awoke
with no fresh ideas and no clue how to discourage the crowds.

Later that same morning, he and
Kali left The Granite Anvil and headed into the undercity. The stairs that led
from the streets of the upper city were slick with overnight rain. Humans and
minotaurs in the upper city glanced at the winged, striped drak in their midst,
but Kale never felt they were more than curious, something to which he had
become accustomed. Entering the undercity, however, was like opening the
floodgates. Every drak who saw him stopped and stared or followed and cried out
for his attention.

Kale saw a familiar minotaur pushing
a cart of potatoes. He nodded as he passed, but the minotaur’s face dropped
when his eyes met Kale’s. He swung the cart around and pushed it away at an
ever-increasing speed. Kali pointed toward a platform ahead at the edge of the
walkway. It was used by town criers to spread news and announcements.

“That platform gives me an idea!”
She ran over to it and pulled Kale up. “Attention, draks of Muncifer!”

Kale removed his hat, held it in
front of him, and tucked in his wings as they waited for a crowd to gather.
Kali maneuvered him in front of her and tugged on his wings. Kale spread them.

“This is Kale Windsinger of
Drak-Anor.”

“He is Chosen!”

“A gift from Rannos!”

“Can you cure my scale itch?”

“He will save us!”

Kale raised his head and spat a
gout of flame into the air. The draks shrank back and became silent.

“He has stripes, yes. Wings,
too.” She patted his arm. “Tell them how you got them.”

“I wasn’t born with the wings.
They weren’t a gift from Rannos or any other dead god either.” Kale didn’t want
to tell them the whole truth. Telling an unruly mob about a chaos mutation
would require too much explanation. “The wings are… are… uhh… a wizard did it!
He was trying to turn me into a bird, but I stabbed him and messed up his magic!
He was an evil wiz—warlock, yeah, and me and the minotaurs helped free
Drak-Anor from his evil spell so we could be free and—”

Kali smacked him in the shoulder.
“Freeing Drak-Anor was Kale’s destiny. His purpose is already fulfilled. He can
do nothing for you, and we ask you to please, just let him live his life.”

“No, he is blessed!”

“He can help us, too!”

Kale stepped up onto the
platform, put an arm around Kali, and spread his wings. “I’ve seen oppression.
I’ve seen drak slavery. I don’t see it here.”

A dusty-grey drak pushed his way
to the front of the crowd. “I can help you tell your tale!”

Kale looked at Kali; she nodded.
He extended a hand to the other drak and helped him climb onto the platform.
The grey drak turned to the crowd.

“You all know me—”

“Jairo!”

“He prints truth!”

“Bah, it’s a rag!”

The dissenting voice was shouted
into silence. Jairo held up his hands to calm the crowd. “I’ll get this drak’s
story. We’ll all hear it. We’ll take it to the upper city. The humans and the
minotaurs will hear us.”

Kale stomach tightened. He did
not want to become involved in a revolution, but neither did he want endure
undue adoration of an oppressed lower class every time he stepped out of his
shop, if indeed, that was what these draks were. His thoughts were interrupted
by the sound of metal banging on metal. A squad of guards pushed through the
crowds, smacking their cudgels against their shields.

“Clear out, you lot! You’re
clogging the streets! Clear out!” The guards stopped in front of the platform.
“Causing trouble again, Jairo?”

Though the crowd of draks moved
away, they still watched Kale. He stepped in front of Jairo. “He was just
trying to help convince them to ignore me.”

The guard grunted. “So you’re the
troublemaker, eh? What manner of drak are you anyway?”

Kali took Kale’s hand. “He’s my
mate, and he’s not causing trouble. These draks all seem to think he’s some
savior come to free them from oppression.”

The guards laughed. The one who
spoke to Kale gestured to his fellows. “Hear that? He’s come to free them from
their oppression!”

“No! No, I haven’t.” Kale folded
in his wings and tried to shrink away from the guards. Even standing on the
platform he had to look up at them to meet their eyes. “My sister is at the
Arcane University. I just wanted to look at some shops! I don’t want trouble.”

The guard gestured to one of the
other guards. “Go break up that lot. Get them moving.” He turned to Kale, and
poked him in the stomach with his cudgel. “You’re packing a lot of blades on
that bandoleer for someone who doesn’t want trouble.”

Kale fingered the hilts of his
daggers as he counted them. “I don’t want trouble. It doesn’t mean I’m just
going to let it happen to me.”

“Stop stirring the pot, Jairo.”
The guard poked the grey drak. “We all have to abide by the archduke’s edicts.”