The Alchemist's Touch (21 page)

“They will see our students’ robes,” said Theren. “That may be more than clue enough.”

“That we cannot help.”

With raised hoods, they entered the inn. Almost immediately, Ebon felt Kalem draw closer. Patrons in the common room cast evil looks upon them. Ebon tried to ignore them as he made his way to the back, where the barkeep stood with his hands spread on the counter.

“Well met,” said Ebon, trying to deepen his voice. “We seek a man who roomed here, or mayhap does still. He had a thin beard and elf-white skin. He wore blue and grey when last I saw him.”

“I may know many men,” said the barkeep. “And it does not do me well to discuss any of their business. Shove off.”

Theren tensed beside him, but Ebon put a hand on her arm to still her. From his purse he drew a gold weight, sliding it to the barkeep. The man eyed the coin, but did not move. Ebon sighed and extracted another, placing it beside the first. “That is all you will get, and is well worth loosening your lips.”

The barkeep scowled, but took the coins and tucked them into his pocket. “The one you seek is not here, though so far as I know he has not taken his custom elsewhere.”

“What use are those words?” snapped Theren.

“They are my only ones.”
 

“What room does he have?” Ebon asked.

The barkeep pointed to the hallway leading to the back. “First on the right.”

Ebon withdrew another coin.
No matter my allowance, at this rate I shall soon be a pauper.
“For your willing assistance.” If the man caught the irony in Ebon’s tone, he did not show it—but he took the coin.

They moved towards the hallway, Ebon in the lead. Kalem tugged at his sleeve and whispered, “What do you mean to do?”
 

“Search the man’s room.”

“Are you mad? What if the barkeep is wrong? What if he is here, and slumbers within?”

“If he is slumbering, we shall have no trouble,” said Theren brightly.

“Unless he wakes. Or does
not
slumber, and is sitting there waiting in lamplight, for some foolish Academy students to bumble inside to their deaths!” Kalem’s voice rose by the word until he was nearly screeching, though still in a whisper.

“Our only other choice is to turn back and make for home,” said Ebon.

“That seems an excellent idea.”

“For cowards,” said Theren.

“I am going,” said Ebon. “Kalem, if you wish, you may withdraw. We shall find you on the street in a moment.”

Kalem seemed like he might, but then looked about the room. Many eyes were now upon him, for the three stood alone in the room’s center. “Oh, very well,” he muttered. “Only I think this is the height of idiocy, and speaking of the two of you, that says quite a lot.”

They reached the door. Ebon pressed an ear to the wood, but heard nothing. He turned the latch and stepped inside. The door gave a long
creeeak
as it opened. There were no lanterns—the only light came from the common room itself, and that was dim enough to show nothing.

He squared his shoulders and crossed the threshold. The room was dead silent. Kalem’s footsteps sounded like thunder, entering behind him to swing the door shut.

It took a moment for Ebon’s eyes to adjust, and even then they could not see into the shadowed corners. But faint moonslight seeped through cracks in the drawn shutters to reveal a dirty, unkempt bed, and a single chest of drawers. There was a lamp on the floor by the bed, and for a moment Ebon thought to light it. But that might be folly; what if the man returned, and saw the light glowing under his door?
 

“Look quickly,” he said. “The package was of brown cloth, and tied with simple string. Find it, if you can, or anything unusual that might have been inside.”

Theren moved to the bed, searching beneath the straw mattress and under the pillow. Her nose coiled in disgust. Ebon understood why as he dropped to the floor and searched beneath the bed—the floor reeked of something untoward, a smell he could not place and did not like. But there was nothing under the bed, except some rubbish of paper that held nothing.
 

But from the chest of drawers, Kalem whispered, “Ebon.”

Theren went to him at once, and Ebon joined her a moment later. He saw the brown cloth parcel in the chest’s bottom drawer.

“That is it,” he said. “Open it.”

“Why should I?” said Kalem, voice shaking. “
You
open it.”

Ebon reached out with trembling fingers and undid the string. The brown cloth fell away. But in the darkness, he could not see what lay within. He drew it out, and held it under the moonslight.

It was a tabard, that was plain. White with gold edges, large enough to be worn over a suit of plate—or perhaps chain, if the wearer were particularly large. It covered chest, back, and upper arms. A lifetime of wealth told him the cloth was fine. But more importantly, upon the breast was displayed a sigil: a four-pointed star, with a red gem heart. Ebon knew he had seen it before, but it took him a moment to place it. His heart skipped a beat when it did.

“The High King’s sigil,” breathed Theren.

“This is worn by the palace guards,” said Kalem. “I went there once. Every one of the High King’s personal guard wore a tabard of just this make.”

“Why would I have been asked to deliver this? And to a man like the one we saw, in such a flea-ridden place?” asked Ebon.

“Perhaps there is more to be found,” said Theren, returning to the drawer.

About to look over her shoulder, Ebon froze. The door’s latch turned, and before he could tell them to hide, it flew open. There in the doorway, wreathed in the lamplight from the room beyond, stood the pale man with the thin beard.

twenty-two

Kalem gave a sharp cry and stretched out his hands. His eyes glowed as a thick mist filled the room. At the same time, Ebon leapt forwards to drag Theren back from the chest of drawers. Together the three of them pressed back into the room. Ebon did not know what to do, except that attempting escape through the door would mean death. He was only thankful their hoods were raised, and likely the man had not seen their faces.

Theren tore from his grasp, and in panic lost his grip on Kalem. A form came forwards through the mist, wiry hands grasping at empty air. The man seized the front of Ebon’s robe before he could flee, and dragged him close.
 

“Help!” Ebon tried to strike the man’s face with a closed fist, but found his wrist caught in an icy grip. The man’s skin was cold and clammy, and though his arms were thin, they were full of wiry muscle. The other hand released Ebon’s robe. Then Ebon heard a
snikt,
and recognized it at once as the sound of a drawn dagger. Steel flashed in the moonslight as the man brought it high, ready to plunge Ebon’s heart.

Then something struck him, something Ebon could not see. The man’s head flew back, and he dropped the blade. Something invisible seized his ankle and flipped him upside down. Ebon remembered seeing the same thing happen to Lilith when she had attacked him and Kalem in the tavern: Theren’s magic.

“Run!” she cried. Ebon ran for where he thought the door was, but misjudged and struck the wall instead. A small form crashed into his back—Kalem. Ebon grabbed the boy, and together they pressed through the door into the hallway beyond. Theren was there, but wasted no time with words. Together they fled through the common room, ignoring outraged cries from the barkeep behind them. Soon they were in the cool, clean air of the streets beyond, and kept running until they had left the Shining Door far, far behind.

At last they stopped in an alleyway far from any main street. Kalem collapsed against a brick wall, sliding to sit on the filthy ground. His eyes were closed, and head thrown back. He cast down his hood, panting too hard for words. When he finally spoke, his gaze fixed angrily on Ebon.

“I hope you are proud of yourself. You nearly got the three of us killed!”

Ebon was bent nearly double with his breathing. He glared back at Kalem. “How was I to know he would return while we were in his room?”

“How could you simply assume he would not?” said Kalem. “He did not mean to hurt us, Ebon, but to kill us. Can you not imagine what would happen if he had? Imagine our parents receiving letters, telling them that we had been slain by some scoundrel in a rat-infested inn upon the High King’s Seat?”

Ebon felt his cheeks burning, and looked down at the street. “My father would read the letter, and then most likely throw it in a fire. I doubt he would even tell my mother.”

“I came from an orphanage in Cabrus.” Theren’s voice was nearly as quiet as Ebon’s. “No one would care. My patron would see it as an inconvenience, before finding another wizard to do his bidding.”

Kalem’s mouth hung open, but no sound left it. He looked back and forth between them, and then dropped his gaze. “I…I am sorry. I had not thought…that is, I thought only of my own parents.”

Ebon shrugged. “Who could blame you? I should not have thought only of myself. You are right to be upset, Kalem. It was thoughtless to bring you here.”

Theren gripped the boy’s shoulders and gave him a little shake. “Do you jest? We might be dead if not for our brave Kalem here. Your mists were exquisite.”

Kalem still looked abashed, but gave a little smile. “I panicked. I hardly knew what I was doing.”

Theren smiled. “Better a companion who unknowingly does the right thing than one who knowing does the wrong, I always say.”

Their somber pall suddenly vanished, and Ebon grinned at his friends. But then it dampened, and he said, “I only wish we had learned more. Still I do not know what he had that guard’s uniform for.”

“There I may be of some help,” said Theren with a wide smile. “For I found something else, just as our unwelcome guest arrived.”

Theren’s hand vanished into her robes. A moment later she drew forth a parchment and unfurled it: a map of the Great Bay and the High King’s Seat, with marks and symbols scrawled all across it.

They quickly made their way back to the Academy, and there Theren helped them over the wall once more. Again Ebon found it a harrowing experience, but it was already easier. Behind the citadel’s walls, they went to the common room outside Kalem’s dormitory. The younger children had all gone to bed, and they huddled together over a table, looking over the map by firelight.

The Seat swallowed most of the map, reaching far enough west to show the Selvan coast, docks clearly marked on the island’s east and west ends. Near the western docks were many ships, drawn in dark blue ink, while on the eastern dock were more ships in red. From the High King’s palace were many lines in blue and red, tracing through the city and out to the docks where they met the ships.

“What does it mean?” said Kalem softly.

“I do not know,” Ebon answered. “It looks like a route from the palace to where ships are waiting at the docks.”

“It could be,” said Theren. “But look here.”

She pointed, and Ebon saw a smaller drawing that had escaped his notice. South of the eastern docks, on the very southeastern tip of the island, was a smaller ship—more of a boat. A rough cave had been sketched around it, both enclosed within a red circle.

“None of this means anything to me,” said Ebon. “I know little of ships and sailing.”

“Yet the drawings seem more concerned with the island than with the boats,” Theren said.

Kalem’s expression became grave. “Mayhap this is some plot. Have you heard the tale of the Lord Prince in his youth? Some bandits captured and then kept him hidden in their forest stronghold, where they hoped to extract a mighty ransom from the High King. This may be some plan to repeat the treachery.”

“I have heard that tale,” said Ebon. “But that seems foolhardy now. His guard has been vigilant ever since. And he was captured upon the King’s road, not within the palace itself.”

“A brash plan may succeed where a more timid one fails, if only because one’s foes do not expect it,” said Theren.

“And perhaps it is not the Lord Prince,” said Kalem. “Mayhap it is some other member of the royal family. Some king or young prince from one of the outland kingdoms. This is an ill finding. We should inform one of our instructors, so that they may warn the palace.”

Theren gently struck him on the back of the head. “Think. How could we tell them we came by this information? What is your plan? Go to Jia and say,
Pardon me, Instructor, but I snuck out of the Academy after nightfall and found a plot to capture one of the royal family? Or perhaps I did—you see, I am not quite sure what I found, after all.
You would be put on the first ship home before the words left your mouth.”
 

“Yet mayhap great disaster would be averted,” said Kalem. “We do not have to tell them that
we
found this map. We could leave it for them to find, and let them deduce the rests.”

Ebon sat scowling down at the map, only half hearing his friends. Finally he spoke in a low murmur. “We do not know what this means. We do not even know the full extent of our own ignorance, for this may lead to some other truth we cannot imagine. What if this is not evil after all? What if the man is an agent of the High King herself, carrying out some order?”