The Firemage's Vengeance (26 page)

Then Eamin shook his shoulders, as though waking from a deep slumber, and his mood lightened. “But so simple a request is nothing, Adara. You must not consider my debt to you repaid. Do not hesitate to call upon me again.”

Adara smiled. “A small deed from a busybody weighs heavier than a great deed from the lazy, they say.”

“They are fools if they call you lazy,” said Eamin. “And speaking of which, I am sure the two of you have further business to attend tonight, as I do myself. If we may …?”

He gestured, and they hastened towards the door together. Once in the alley, Eamin made to go in one direction, while Adara and Ebon headed in the other. But just before they all departed, Eamin stopped them with a raised hand, and started at Ebon beneath his hood.

“It is good to see a Drayden on the side of right,” he said softly. “Such a thing is less common than one might hope.”

Ebon swallowed hard. So Eamin had recognized him after all. He felt a fool for thinking he could conceal his face so well.

“I hope my conduct may always please Your Grace so,” he murmured, and took a knee again.

“Come now, I said there was no need for that,” said Eamin. “Stay your course, Drayden. Though not all your kin may feel the same, I think you do your name proud. Prouder than any since … he would have been your brother, would he not?”

Everything went still. Ebon could not move a muscle—he even noticed that his mouth hung open, but he could not close it.

“Momen was a good man,” said Eamin. “A great one, in fact, and high in the estimation of many across the nine kingdoms. Though I would not guess that your kin have told you so. He deserved better than what he got.”

At last Ebon’s mouth worked, though just enough to croak, “Thank you, Your Grace. But how did you …?”

Eamin smiled sadly. “Another time, I hope. Some tales are not worth telling if they cannot be told properly.”

And then he was gone, vanishing through the gently falling snow.

thirty-one

EBON STAYED AT ADARA’S HOME as long as he could, but eventually made his way back to the Academy. The next day he muddled through his classes in a fog, still overawed about the Lord Prince. He half expected some royal messenger to appear at the Academy with news that Isra had been discovered, and that the threat was now over. But of course no such message came.

Kalem saw something odd in his demeanor, and asked him about it. But Ebon did not wish to tell the story twice, and bid him wait for Theren. They saw no trace of her at breakfast, or at the midday meal. At first Ebon thought little of it, but when she had not appeared by the beginning of the afternoon’s studies, he began to grow worried. Together they conducted a quick search for her, looking through the dining hall and the hallways outside, and then even darting upstairs to seek her in the dormitories. But they found no trace of her, and so they went to the library—where they found Theren at last, waiting for them in their alcove. She was shaking, and to their surprise, she sat with Lilith.

“Theren!” said Ebon. “We looked all over for you. What is wrong?”

“I … they came for me,” said Theren. Lilith looked up in dismay, and Ebon saw that she was clutching one of Theren’s hand tightly in both of her own. “The Instructors, I mean. I was called to my instructor’s office—Nestor, I mean—and there I found the Dean, as well as some instructors of the other branches. They sat me down in a chair, and when I tried to resist, they forced me. Then they cast … some sort of spell upon me, though I know not what they did. I only saw their eyes glowing, and felt the itch on my skin where their magic probed me.”

“Why?” said Ebon. “What were they looking for?”

“I have just told you I do not know!” snapped Theren.

But Kalem had blanched, and he sank heavily into one of the armchairs. “I know what they were doing,” he said. “They sought the mark of enchantment upon you.”

A glance at Theren told Ebon she knew nothing more of Kalem’s words than he did. “What is the mark of enchantment?”

“Do you remember when Theren searched for Lilith’s spellsight within the vaults? It is like that. A sort of trace left upon someone who uses a magical artifact. They sought for a sign that Theren had used an enchanted object.”

“But why?” said Ebon. “Why Theren? Of course
we
know she carries the amulet, but how could they?” But then he froze where he stood. His eyes went to Lilith. They had not told her of Kekhit’s amulet.

“Do not trouble yourself about that,” said Theren. “I have told Lilith about it already.”

“You
what?”
said Kalem. He threw his hands up in the air. “Is there anyone left in the Academy who does not know?”

Theren glared at him, and he wilted. “Save us from your dramatics. I trust her. But do you not see? Xain has grown suspicious that I have been using mindwyrd. Ebon showed the instructors that I have no magestone in my blood, but Xain knows that the amulet of Kekhit has been stolen. The faculty may once have thought that the amulet was in Isra’s possession, but now Xain suspects it is in mine.”

Ebon slumped in his armchair. But then he had another thought, and he straightened once more. “But wait. Kalem, you told us that spellsight is wildly unreliable, and that no one would take its signature for evidence.”

“So I did,” said Kalem. “And the mark of enchantment is even more inscrutable. But think, Ebon. Xain is desperate. His
son
is missing. Do you think he would withhold his hand from any method that might recover Erin? It is like we were when we were trying to prove Lilith was the Academy killer—meaning no offense, Lilith.”

Lilith arched an eyebrow. “Of course. And you are correct—only Xain is more dangerous now than you were then, because his own blood is in danger, and because he has the power of the office of the Dean.”

Theren looked at them with fear in her eyes. “But why did they not find the mark? I have—” She cast a quick glance about them to look for eavesdroppers, and then went on in a whisper. “I have been using the amulet, after all.”

“I do not think the mark lasts for very long,” said Kalem. “It is days since we fought Isra in the grotto. The mark must have faded.”

“Then I must get rid of it. Now, before they try again.”

Ebon frowned. “Mayhap you are right. It seems too dangerous now. But what if Isra should reappear?”

“I will be unable to stop her if I am in a Mystic prison with their knives digging into my skin,” snapped Theren. Lilith shuddered, and her hands crossed over her chest as she turned her gaze away. “I cannot carry it with me now, in any case. Why should I not be rid of it?”

“What will you do?” said Kalem. “Will you leave it for the instructors to find? Do you not think that will raise suspicion, that it would reappear
just
after they investigated you?”

“I will throw it into the Great Bay, and good riddance,” said Theren.

To Ebon’s surprise, Lilith reached out and took Theren’s hand. Theren looked over after a moment, and Ebon saw the sadness in Lilith’s gaze as their eyes met.

“You must keep it. Only a little longer. It cannot be long before we find her,” said Lilith.

Kalem leaned forwards, focusing on Ebon. “To that end—what happened last night, Ebon? Was Adara able to help you?”

For a moment Ebon hesitated, wondering if he should tell them—particularly Lilith—of the Lord Prince. But it seemed there was nothing for it, and soon he had spilled the whole of the tale. As soon as he told them of Eamin, they all went stone-still in their seats, and Ebon could see something very much like worship shining in Kalem’s eyes.

“The Lord Prince,” he whispered in reverence.

Even Theren’s panic seemed to have diminished somewhat. “These are the first glad tidings we have heard since the Academy murders first began.”

“How?” said Kalem. “I mean, how could Adara … it would be impressive enough if she knew him as a client—that would make her a high courtesan indeed, and worthy of much honor. But outside of her business? What could possibly have brought the two of them together?”

Theren scoffed. “You make it sound as though the Lord Prince is some coward who spends all his days cooped up in the palace. He has walked upon many roads, and fought in many battles both great and small. They could have met anywhere—and if she performed him some service, he would not forget it.”

Ebon shrugged. “I do not know. I only know what she told me, and that was precious little.”

But in his mind, he was wrestling with the same thought that had plagued him since their rendezvous the night before. Yes, it was astounding that Adara knew the Lord Prince, and especially on such terms. But more perturbing still was the fact that Mako knew of their relationship, if so it could be called. How could the bodyguard have learned that secret, if he had only known Adara for a short time?

Mako’s ever-growing omniscience had grown beyond the bounds of unsettling, and was now close to terrifying. And yet still the man could not locate Isra upon the High King’s Seat.

Where can she be?

Lilith loosed a sigh and shifted in her seat. “This is most comforting. If the Lord Prince himself has joined the search, it cannot be very long before Isra is dug out of whatever dark corner she has hidden herself in.”

“I am not so sure,” said Kalem, scowling as he put his chin on his fist. “After all, she has conjured her own corpse out of thin air. I would once have counted that impossible.”

“Many things are impossible, until someone of industry carries them out,” said Mako.

Ebon leapt out of his chair. Kalem tried to do the same, but tripped over his own feet and went crashing to the ground. Theren leapt up with her eyes aglow, and Lilith fought to stand, but her weakened limbs almost betrayed her. She opened her mouth to scream. Mako thrust one finger at her, and his face twisted in a scowl.

“Keep your silence, and keep your life. Lose one, and lose the other.”

“It is all right, Lilith,” said Theren quickly. She went to Lilith and put a hand on her arm. “He is no threat. Not now, and not here, at any rate.”

“What is he doing in the library?” hissed Lilith. She looked around, and Ebon did the same, for it seemed impossible that no one else could see him. But no other students were in sight, as if by chance—though of course Ebon knew that was by Mako’s design.

“He comes and goes, it seems,” said Ebon, glaring at Mako. “What are you doing here, other than frightening us all half to death by appearing from nowhere?”

“The little goldshitter is very flip for one who is sitting and taking council with a Yerrin,” growled Mako, who had not taken his furious eyes from Lilith. “But that discussion must be had another time, for matters of true import are afoot. I come with news of Gregor.”

Ebon felt the blood drain from his face. Kalem and Theren went very still, and even Lilith gulped before lifting her chin and fixing Mako with a defiant look.

“What of him?” said Ebon. “I thought the Mystics took him.”

“They did not,” said Mako. “He killed them all. He has not yet managed to flee the Seat, but he is about to. Now, in fact. We must stop him.”

“Asking for help again?” said Theren, smirking through her unease. “This is truly a time of wonders.”

Mako sneered at her. “The dregs of my resources you may be, but dregs are better than an empty cup. Gregor has killed most of my agents already, and those who remain still bear grievous wounds. Isra is nowhere to be seen, but I need you to contend with a firemage at Gregor’s side.”

“You mean an elementalist,” said Kalem at once. Then he froze.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Mako turned his baleful glare upon the boy. Ebon thought Kalem would die upon the spot, the boy looked so terrified.

“I am sorry,” he whimpered. “It was an accident.”

Mako ignored him. “Girl,” he said, looking at Theren. “Go and fetch your amulet.”

“No.”

The bodyguard’s jaw twitched. “I did not ask you a question.”

“Yet I gave you an answer. They are searching for it, and they already suspect me. Besides, you said Isra was not there.”

“She was not when I left,” said Mako. “That does not mean she has not appeared since, or that Gregor is not making his way to her even now.”

“Still I will not bring it,” said Theren. “I am no good to any of us if I land in prison—and I value my own skin too highly, besides.”

To Ebon’s surprise and relief, Mako grinned. “That sentiment, at least, I can sympathize with. Very well—but I hope you are impressive enough without it. Meet me in the gardens as quickly as you can. You know where. Do not bring the Yerrin girl.”

Before they could answer, he turned and vanished into the bookshelves.

“‘The Yerrin girl,’ he says.” Lilith snorted. “Darkness take him. I will come if I wish.”

“You will not,” said Theren at once. “You have not fully recovered from your ordeal, and you have been through too much already on our account. Besides, if you come with us, I do not doubt that Mako will try to slit your throat.”

“Let him,” said Lilith, raising her chin. “Only a fool threatens a wizard.”

“Two wizards, you mean,” said Theren. “For I would not let him touch you. Yet still you should not come.”

Lilith’s mouth twitched, though whether towards a smile or a frown, Ebon could not say. “Do you think I trust you to look after yourself? It is not what you are known for, Theren. I order you to come back whole.”

At the word
order,
Ebon tensed, expecting an outburst from Theren. Beside him, Kalem looked between the girls uncertainly.

But Theren’s dark cheeks flushed darker for a moment, and she stepped forwards. “Yes, my dear.”

And then she kissed her.

Far too much had happened in far too short a time for Ebon to withstand this. He stood stock still, heedless of his mouth hanging open, unable to do so much as blink. He was only tangentially aware of Kalem beside him, teeth gleaming in a fool’s grin. The moment lasted only a few heartbeats. Then Theren stepped away and hastened off, passing between the boys as she did so. She seized their elbows and dragged them off.

“If the two of you say so much as a word, I will throw you from the balcony to the library’s first floor,” she hissed.