The Mindmage's Wrath: A Book of Underrealm (The Academy Journals 2) (3 page)

“I meant not to distract you all,” said Xain, his eyes roving the room. “I am only showing him about the Academy, and could not pass without stopping to see you. I expect you—”

Xain’s glance fell upon Ebon, and there it stopped. He grew rigid as a board, hands tightening to fists by his sides. Ebon felt hot blood flooding his cheeks, though he knew not why.

“You there,” said Xain, nearly spitting the words. “What is your name?”

“E-Ebon, Dean Forredar.”

“Your family name,” he snapped.

The color that had flooded Ebon’s face drained away at once. “I am of the family Drayden, Dean.”

Xain gave no answer. But his hand went to Erin’s shoulder and drew him close, as if to shield him. A moment longer he stared, and Ebon could not mistake the look in his eye: hatred, fiery and pure, more so even than Lilith had shown. Then at last Xain turned away.

“Good day,” he said tersely, and swept from the room with his son in tow.

Slowly, every eye turned to Ebon in wonder. Even Perrin gave him a hard look. Ebon’s gaze fell to his desk, and he stewed in a shame that he did not understand.

three

THE REST OF THE MORNING class passed quickly, if uncomfortably. Ebon tried to pay attention as Perrin laid out the studies he would need to complete, and he retrieved a book from the shelves at the instructor’s commands. But though he sat for hours staring at the first page, the words had become a blur before his eyes. He could see only Xain’s dark gaze, gleaming with unknown malice.

When at last the bell rang for midday meal, Ebon shot from his bench. But just as he reached the door, Perrin bellowed to stop him.

“Ebon! Return your book to its place on the shelf.”

Ebon turned sheepishly to do as he was bid. Several other students had been about to leave their books out as well, but quickly they scrambled to return them. Though he might have imagined it, Ebon thought he felt Perrin’s careful eye upon him as he returned the book and fled the room. Only then did he break into a run, flying through the citadel towards the dining hall.

He found Kalem and Theren standing in the food line and fell into place beside them. He had little desire to eat, but neither did he want to be alone. Something of his mood must have shown in his face, for Kalem frowned in concern.

“What is wrong? You look as though you woke this morning to find yourself a wizard no longer.”

“Oh, it is no great matter,” said Ebon bitterly. “Only that the new Dean seems to despise me even more than the old one, and just as with Cyrus, I have no faintest idea why.”

“What?” said Theren, arching an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Ebon told them all that had happened, doing his best to convey in words the hatred he had felt in Xain’s eyes. Kalem shook his head mournfully.

“That seems ill fortune. I wonder what it is all about?”

But Theren rolled her eyes. “I think you may be imagining things, Ebon. It seems far-fetched that he could so quickly detest you. Though I have no doubt he will learn to, once he knows you better.”

“This is no jest,” said Ebon irritably. “You doubted me when I told you of Dean Cyrus’ treatment. Do you recall how that turned out?” His body still bore the fading bruises from when Cyrus attacked him.
 

As Theren’s eyes fell in shame, Ebon’s guilt grew in response. She felt remorse that she had let Cyrus strike Ebon with his mindmagic. But she did not know what Ebon had done to the Dean on the day of the attack. That secret was his alone—and Adara’s, of course. His mood softened at that thought.

“I apologize,” Theren said quietly. “If you say that is what happened, I believe you.”

“Think nothing of it,” Ebon muttered, unable to meet her eyes.

“If Xain indeed has animosity towards you, there must be some reason,” said Kalem. “I will see if anyone knows what it might be. In truth, I know little of the man, beyond the fact he is favored by the High King herself.”

“I shall ask about as well,” said Theren. “Though I do not have many friends.”

They had reached the front of the line, so they fetched their food and sat to eat without speaking further. But Ebon’s appetite had gone from little to nothing, and he could not force himself to swallow more than a spoonful of soup. He gnawed at his bread instead, chewing it overmuch until it was a soggy mess in his mouth.

Theren scooped up the last of her soup, slurping it noisily, and then shoved the bowl away. “A fair meal today. I think they have started cooking better since we returned to the Academy. No doubt in an attempt to raise our spirits.”

“Or they are more liberal with their spices, since they have fewer mouths to feed,” muttered Kalem.

Theren snorted and punched his shoulder. “Still such dark words! That sounds like something I might say. Here is something that might cheer you: I have changed my schedule. Hereafter, I shall spend my afternoons in the library with you.”

Kalem grinned. “So that is why you said would speak in the library this afternoon. I had wondered.”
 

Ebon, too, found his mood lifted. But then a thought struck him, and he frowned. “I thought you were no fan of book learning.”

“Of course not,” said Theren, pursing her lips. “I am not joining you because I wish to study with you, but because I do not want my afternoons to be so incredibly dull.”

Ebon and Kalem stifled groans as they looked sidelong at each other. Ebon would be glad for Theren’s company, but he enjoyed the peace of his time in the library. Many hours had he and Kalem whiled away, tucked into their armchairs with books of ancient lands and Wizard Kings.

“Well, we will certainly enjoy your presence,” said Kalem. But Ebon could hear that his heart was not in the words.

“Of course you will,” said Theren. “And that reminds me. This morning we were speaking of Lilith, and of the theft in the vaults. I meant to tell you that—”

Someone stopped behind Ebon, abruptly enough that their shoes squeaked upon on the stone.

“The vaults.”

Ebon turned. Behind him stood Credell. The thin-faced, wheedling instructor wore a vacant look. He turned to them all, his eyes fixed on Theren. “The vaults,” he repeated.

“Yes, Instructor?” She raised her eyebrows. “My servitude is in the vaults. What of it?”

“I had almost forgotten.” Credell’s voice was absent its customary shake, and his nervous tics had disappeared. “I must enter the vaults. Give me your key.”

Kalem looked uncertainly at Theren. She met the boy’s eyes and gave a barely perceptible shrug. “Instructor, I have no key. It is only given to me during my servitude, and only when I must enter the vaults themselves.”

“The vaults,” he said, more urgent this time. “I must enter them. Give me your key.”

Now Theren was growing exasperated. “I do not have one,” she said, very nearly snapping at him. “Besides, you are an Instructor. If you have Academy business within the vaults, you can enter them yourself. Egil will admit you. But I do not have the key.”

Her last words crackled, and Credell jumped at last. He blinked twice, and then looked down as if noticing Ebon at his elbow for the first time. He drew back as if from a viper, wringing his hands just under his chin.

“Ah, yes, of course,” he stuttered. “Of course you have no key. Silly of me. I had forgotten. I do not know why ... why I thought you ... er, I am sorry. Good day.”

He turned and left, winding away through the tables. All three of them kept their eyes fixed upon his back until he was out of sight.

“That was most odd,” said Kalem.

“Bizarre,” agreed Theren. “I wonder if he is all right. After the attack upon the Seat, I mean. War can break one’s mind, they say.”

“He seemed well enough the past few days in class,” said Ebon quietly. “That was unlike I have ever seen him ... and yet, not worse. He was less frightened. More sure.”

“Perhaps he is finally growing a spine.” Theren shrugged, and seemed to dismiss the matter. “In any case, I was speaking of the theft.”

“Of course,” said Ebon. “What news have you?”

“Well, few students perform their servitude in the vaults. But Lilith is another.”

“The both of you?” said Kalem. “I am amazed the Academy is still standing, if the two of you have been in such close quarters so long.”

Theren glared at him. “I can control myself when I wish to. And besides, we are rarely present together. The caretaker, Egil, almost never requires two students at once.”

“Yes, well and good about all of that,” said Ebon, waving her words aside. “But what of Lilith? What does she have to do with it?”

“I have had a thought brewing,” said Theren. “Mayhap it was some member of the Academy’s faculty who carried out the theft. But it could also have been a student. And if it were a student, who better than one who performs their servitude in the vaults? Such a one would know better than any other how to do it.”

Kalem looked at Ebon, his brow creased with doubt. “That seems a far reach, Theren. What student would dare risk such a thing? Even Academy faculty might think twice about trying to breach the vault’s defenses.”

“Yet many of us are more powerful than our instructors,” said Theren. “I am stronger than any mindmage here, especially now that Cyrus has vanished. Lilith is at least as great as any firemage on the faculty—though, I say that without knowing the new Dean’s measure. He may be a great firemage, for all I know.”

Talk of Cyrus had begun to make Ebon uncomfortable, so he steered the topic away. “I hear little evidence beyond ‘It could be so,’ Theren. And I do not know if even that is true, for Lilith was far away when the attack occurred. How could she have carried out such a theft from another kingdom?”

“She said she left the Academy, yes,” said Theren. “But what if she lied? What better alibi?”

“Ebon is right,” Kalem said. “If that is your only proof, it is flimsy indeed.”

Theren frowned. “It is at least a place to start.”

“To start what?” said Ebon.

She looked at him with wide eyes, as though the answer was obvious. “Why, to find the thief, of course.”

Kalem gawked. “No. No, we are not engaging in another mad scheme, Theren. If the theft is indeed a matter of great worry, then let us—”

But just then the bell rang, and the dining hall filled with the sound of scraping benches as students stood from their meals. Almost chipper, Theren jumped up to bring her dishes to the kitchen. Kalem growled and followed her.

Ebon went with them, but he stopped and looked over his shoulder one final time. Credell stood in the doorway of the dining hall, looking about with a faraway gaze. One hand stole up to scratch at the skin beneath his collar. He shivered as though cold, and then vanished into the hallways.

It is no matter
, thought Ebon.
You have left his class, and he is no longer your concern.

Yet a chill crept up his spine as he followed his friends to the kitchen.

four

LATER, IN THE LIBRARY, KALEM and Ebon introduced Theren to their nook on the third level. Predictably, she seemed to think it boring. She dragged another chair over to join them and draped her feet across the table in their midst. Kalem snatched books from beneath her shoes with a scandalized expression, and soon both he and Ebon were grinding their teeth as they tried to read, for Theren seemed far more interested in talking. Though they tried to give her only short, one-word replies, and thus dissuade her from speaking, Theren refused to take the hint.

Soon Ebon felt himself at the breaking point. He leapt to his feet and scuttled away towards the bookshelves, muttering something about finding another reference book for a report he was writing for Instructor Jia.

Once safely ensconced in the bookshelves and out of earshot of Theren’s endless chatter, Ebon sighed in relief. Leaning around the shelf’s edge, he saw Theren still going on animatedly to Kalem, while the poor boy shoved his nose very nearly
into
the spine of his book. Ebon chuckled and ducked out of sight.

“How heartwarming to see the three of you united in your pursuit of wisdom.”

The words made Ebon jump, but then he recognized Mako’s voice. He softly chuckled and turned to find the bodyguard behind him, leaning against one of the shelves. Mako was clad all in black, black shirt beneath an even darker leather vest, and tight leggings that paraded his wiry muscles. Black, too, were the scabbards at his waist, where his long and cruel daggers rested.

“Mako. It has been some time since last you visited me.”

“Well, war blazes across Underrealm.” Mako waved an airy hand. “I have been here and there and most places in between.”

“And now you return. To what do I owe the honor?”

“To this,” said Mako, reaching within his vest and producing a letter.

Ebon shook his head and took it. He had never fully understood Mako’s role within the Drayden family’s business, and it still confounded him every time he saw the bodyguard running messages like a simple courier. The letter bore his family’s seal, and Ebon’s heart skipped at the thought that it might be from his father. But no, Shay Drayden had a personal seal. Ebon peeled the letter open.

Dearest Brother,

There are not words in all the tongues of the nine lands to describe how angry I am with you. Why is it that the first letter I received from you did not come until the High King’s enemies had invaded the Seat? Two months you had to write me a letter, and yet you did nothing. You are an inconsiderate lout and a brute besides.

That said, I am, of course, so very glad to hear you were not harmed in the fighting. But only one way may you retain my good humor towards you! If you write me back, at once and without delay! I know
nothing
of your time at the Academy so far and it is
unbearable
.

Of course, your letter may very well find me upon the road, rather than at home. For yes, we are traveling, dear brother! Even now, we make ready to travel to the Seat to visit you. (Well, we do not come only to visit you, but of course we will visit you while we are there.) Are you not excited? It will be wonderful to see your face again, inconsiderate and selfish as you might be.