The Firemage's Vengeance (8 page)

“I see that,” said Ebon. “Yet if Yerrin is truly a threat, and if they are behind Isra’s crimes, Lilith could be most helpful. She might even help us save Erin’s life.”

“You sound too much like your bodyguard,” Theren spat. “I thought you had no wish to be like the rest of your family, yet I hear their echoes in your words.”

“Leave Mako out of it, then,” said Ebon. “But we must stop Isra as quickly as we can. I have not forgotten the sight of Oren’s corpse—nor Credell’s, nor poor little Vali’s.”

“And do you think I have?” Her eyes flashed. “She has left a longer trail of bodies than that, though how can I blame you for remembering only the goldbags among them?”

Ebon stopped walking and squared his shoulders, looking her in the eye. “That is not fair.”

She glared back for a moment, but then she sagged. “I am sorry. I know you do not think of it that way. It is only … Ebon, I am frightened.”

“We all are,” said Kalem. He put an awkward hand on her arm. “Who knows when Isra will appear again?”

Theren shrugged. “Who cares for Isra? I am afraid for Dasko, and for the mindwyrd I keep him under. I am afraid for all of us, and what will happen if we are discovered. And I am afraid to use the mindwyrd to pry information from Dasko’s mind. I never wanted this power, and now I cannot stop using it.”

They stood a moment in silence. Then Ebon tossed his head. “Come. Time stops for no one.” They fell into step beside him. “I feel your fear as well. But we could at least speak with Lilith. Mayhap she can help, and mayhap not. If not, we can leave it alone, and it will never reach Mako’s ears at all.”

She sighed. “Mayhap. Let me think upon it. It is no decision to make lightly.”

“Of course.”

They reached the Academy a little while later, and no sooner had they passed through the front door than the curfew bell rang. Theren redoubled her pace, making for the white cedar doors that led out to the grounds.

“I am almost late. I will see you both on the morrow.”

But Ebon increased his pace to keep up with her. “I will come with you.”

“And I as well,” said Kalem, who scampered along with them.

Theren did not stop moving, but she tried to wave them off. “There is no need. I can do it myself easily enough—I have the practice, certainly.”

“I told you, Theren. We are in this together.”

He caught the faintest quiver in her chin. “Very well,” she said, her voice wavering. “Thank you both.”

The grounds were as cold as the streets had been, but better lit, for the groundskeepers had already been around to kindle the lanterns. They went for the place in the hedges where they always met Dasko. He was there when they arrived, sitting by himself on a stone bench. Kalem waited at the entrance to the sitting area, standing just out of view where he could keep watch.

Dasko stood as soon as he saw them. Ebon stopped short. He had not seen the man in some time, a week at least. Something about him seemed … off. It was not just his face, which had grown a touch more gaunt, nor the grey at his temples, which seemed to have spread some little way into the rest of his hair. It was a weariness, a thinness, as though the instructor were only half there, and half an Elf-dream. But perhaps Ebon was only imagining that. So far as he knew, no one else had remarked on Dasko acting strange.

Theren reached into a pocket of her robe, and Ebon knew she was holding the amulet of Kekhit. “You will not remember that you have seen us here tonight,” she began. “You will return here tomorrow just before curfew, and remain until I come to see you. If anyone asks, you will not tell them why you are here waiting, but will invent some excuse.”

“Yes,” said Dasko, nodding. Ebon shuddered at the lifeless monotone in his voice.

Kalem and Theren had explained a bit to him in the days since they had first placed Dasko under control. Theren had thoroughly erased his memories of these meetings. If they released Dasko from mindwyrd, the danger was not that he would remember them—the danger was that there would be gaps in his memory, and he would start showing withdrawal from the control. That would prompt an investigation by the faculty, and that could lead to Ebon and his friends.

Their position seemed untenable. Often Ebon felt that they were drawing a blanket over an ever-widening hole in the floor, and hoping they would not get in trouble when some unwitting child fell into it and broke their neck.

Theren gave him an uneasy look. Ebon nodded at her. “It is your choice,” he said quietly.

She sighed and turned to Dasko. “Tell me what the Academy faculty knows of Isra’s reappearance.”

“We know nothing,” said Dasko. Again his voice made Ebon shudder. It was like hearing a corpse speak.

Theren shook her head. “Tell me what the Academy faculty suspects of Isra’s reappearance.”

“Most think Isra must be getting help from inside the Academy,” he said. “There will be an investigation to unearth anyone she may be using. We will look for anyone who shows signs of being under mindwyrd.”

Theren stiffened. Ebon’s heart leapt to his throat, and he spoke. “How would you find someone being held in mindwyrd?”

Dasko said nothing. Theren gave an exasperated sigh. “Tell me how you would find someone being held in mindwyrd.”

“There are sometimes gaps in the memory, for Isra would not want the victim to remember seeing her,” he said. “Therefore she would command them to forget the meeting.”

Ebon and Theren looked at each other. “If they question him, he could lead them to us,” said Ebon.

“Yes,” said Dasko, surprising them both by speaking without being prompted. “In fact Dean Forredar already strongly suspects you, Ebon.”

“Tell us who else suspects us,” said Theren.

“No one,” said Dasko. “Jia thinks Xain’s suspicion is paranoia, born of his hatred for Ebon’s family.”

“Still, we should do what we can to hide the effects of mindwyrd,” said Ebon.

Theren nodded. “I think I know how. Dasko, when you leave here tonight, you will remember being out upon the grounds, but you will remember it as if you were alone. You will remember speaking to no one, nor hearing anyone speak to you. You will remember all of our previous visits the same way—you have been visiting the grounds alone each night, on your own, and speaking to no one.”

“Yes,” said Dasko.

“Leave us now. Enter the Academy, and then forget.”

“Yes.” He left them, slipping out through the gap in the hedge.

Theren sank down onto the bench, her whole body going limp as though she had just run a mile. Ebon quickly took a seat beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. Kalem came in a moment later, his eyes filled with concern.

“I am sorry, Theren,” said Ebon. She looked exhausted. But when she lifted her head to look at him, he saw the weariness was in her eyes—a bone-sunk debility of the soul.

“It is wrong, Ebon,” she whispered. “This is wrong. I know it is, and yet I cannot stop. How can I go on, committing a new evil every night?”

“We are only keeping ourselves safe for now,” he said. “And we will come to a solution. I promise you. We will not rest until this is over.”

“Of
course
we will not rest,” she said. “I can barely even sleep these days.”

Ebon stood and held out his hand. She took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet. They made their way towards the Academy with arms over each other’s shoulders—not to remain upright, but merely for comfort.

Then they opened the white cedar door and nearly ran into Dean Forredar.

Xain stopped short just before they hit him, and though the children took a hasty step back, he did not move. He had eyes only for Ebon, and disgust burned in his gaze.

“Dean Forredar,” murmured Kalem.

“What were you doing out upon the grounds?” said Xain. “Curfew has been called.”

“It is not against the rules,” said Theren. But some of her usual fire had left her voice.

“It is cold out,” said Xain. “After an encounter like you all had last night, most students would wish to remain inside, where the danger seems less.”

“Are we in danger upon the Academy grounds?” said Ebon, meeting Xain’s stare. He was growing more and more fed up with the man’s unreasoning hatred of him. “Is it not your job to protect us? I seem to remember that you made such a pledge when you first came here.”

“It is my job to protect the Academy,” said Xain. “From threats within, as well as without. Sometimes it is hard to tell the difference—other times it is quite clear.”

Kalem quailed, but Theren drew herself up. “You have been wrong about such things before, Dean. Mayhap you see threats when none exist.”

Xain stared her down. For a moment Ebon feared they might come to blows, the way they had when Xain had attacked him in the dining hall. Then, without a word, the Dean stalked away.

“Darkness take him,” muttered Theren.

“He is a suspicious man,” said Kalem, shaking his head. “Yet who can blame him? These are dark times. Come. I am weary, and I suspect the two of you feel much the same.”

They made for the stairs, and then up to their dormitories to sleep.

nine

IN THE LIBRARY THE NEXT day, they reunited in their favorite spot on the third floor. The place was even darker than usual. That part of the library had never been very well kept, and now the faculty had suffered losses, so that many of the lanterns stayed unlit. Kalem took one from the wall out in the main area and set it on the table beside them, so that they could read by its fiery glow.

But reading did not come easy. Ebon struggled to keep his mind upon the book in his hands, a weighty tome entitled The Conquering of Idris: A Telling of the Fall of the Tomb-Kings. Idris was his home, and he had thought the subject might hold his attention. But too often he caught himself staring off at nothing. It did not help that the book was written in a dry and informational style, with no attempt to make the events more interesting. Not that they needed much embellishment—the magic of the Tomb-Kings of old was well renowned, and well feared. His distraction was aided by weariness, and often his head drooped towards his lap. He had spent another sleepless night in the common room of his dormitory, dozing off only in little fits and starts.

After they had sat there for perhaps an hour, Theren gave a frustrated little growl and slammed her book shut. “Enough of this. I am through pretending to study, when all of us know we are doing nothing of the sort.”

Kalem looked up blinking from his book, shaking his head as though he had forgotten they were there. “Hm?”

“Well, except for Kalem, I suppose.” Theren folded her arms across her chest. “But I cannot even see the words on the page. Do neither of you wonder what she is waiting for?”

“Who?” said Kalem, eyes still foggy.

“Isra, of course, you idiot,” Theren snapped. “It has been two days since we saw her. Why has she not struck again?”

“I had not wondered, for I have been thinking about Erin,” said Ebon. “Where on all the Seat could she be hiding him?”

“There are many abandoned buildings upon the Seat, after the attack,” said Kalem. “Why, Mako himself took us to one of them.”

“But that is just it,” said Ebon, leaning forwards. “He must have searched out all such places by now. They would be the easiest to search. If Erin were in one of them, Mako would know something of it. Isra must be staying in some place where there are other people, and she can rely upon their secrecy to conceal her.”

“Then let us catch her, and throw her to the Mystics so they may put her to the question,” said Theren with a glower. “Only that begs the same question as before—what is she waiting for?”

Ebon shrugged. “It has been more than two weeks since we fought her in Xain’s home. She took her time to plan the attack in the dining hall. Now that we foiled it, she will likely be even more careful in her plotting—especially now that we know she has returned.”

“That will take more time that we do not have. Mayhap the story I planted in Dasko’s mind will hold. Mayhap not. I have never had to hide—” Theren stopped short, looking about to make sure no one was close enough to hear. “I have never had to hide mindwyrd before. What if I did it wrong? What if they find us? I should throw the amulet into the Great Bay and have done with it.”

Kalem’s eyebrows raised. “That may be a fair idea now. Dasko would show mindwyrd sickness, but the faculty might ascribe it to Isra’s doing. I would still rather we told the truth of what happened, but this is a good half-measure.”

But Ebon frowned. “And what if Isra returns? She has the strength of magestones in her, and no one can resist her without the amulet. Mayhap we should leave it somewhere for the faculty to find instead. We could slide it beneath Jia’s door when no one was looking. Then Xain would have it, and he could use it to stop Isra.”

“He would not,” said Kalem sadly. “The faculty would never use its powers. That would be a crime against the King’s law, and punishable by death.”

“I know it is!” Theren burst out, before quickly lowering her voice again. “That is why I hate this, why all my waking hours are a torment, and yet I cannot sleep. I know full well what awaits me at the end of this journey, but I have no choice but to keep walking the road.” Her arms and legs were shaking, and her knuckles were white from her grip on the arms of her chair.

Ebon looked away, for he felt her pain as if it were his own. And then, suddenly, an idea struck him. He looked at his friends, wondering that he had not thought of it at once.

“What if we find her ourselves?”

Theren and Kalem stared at him. “What do you mean?” said Kalem.

“Well, either ourselves, or with Mako’s help,” said Ebon. “If we capture her, and subdue her, and then put the amulet upon her before we turn her over to the faculty, then our problem is solved. They will assume she had it all along. Xain will have no choice but to accept that we are innocent.”

Kalem frowned, and even Theren looked doubtful. Yet he watched them think on it, and saw the spark of the idea blossom to flame within their mind.

“I would still have to keep the amulet,” said Theren. “At least for now.”

“Yet you could release Dasko from your control, immediately,” said Ebon. “You no longer need to hold him under mindwyrd.”