The Sorcerer's Abyss (The Sorcerer's Path) (3 page)

"Majestic! Yes, that's the word," Allister barked. "Like a mountain; tall, old, and frigid!"

"Oh shut up, you old goat. You're lucky I'm too tired to beat you within an inch of your miserable life."

"Aggie, Allister said you discovered something about Daebian," Miranda interjected.

"Yes. Demonology is not my specialty, but when you mess around with transdimensional magic, it's good to have some knowledge of otherworldly beings. Now, we all know about Azerick's affliction with the demon Klaraxis. When there is a possession the likes of which Azerick experienced, more happens than an entity residing in a human vessel. Their souls entwined, and Azerick’s very essence became mixed to the point that one cannot be separated from the other. Most people think of the soul as a separate entity from the body, that the body is simply a container for the spirit, but others insist the soul fills every nook and cranny of our bodies like water absorbed by a sponge. The soul does not simply reside inside the body; it melds with it and becomes every part of it."

Miranda raised her hand to her mouth. "Are you telling me my son is some kind of demon?"

"Of course not. Daebian is a sweet boy, but he has obviously inherited some of the changes made in his father. When demons are—hatched, for lack of a better word, they are forced into a very hostile world and largely left to fend for themselves. They must grow quickly in order to defend themselves from the other predatory creatures of the abyss. Daebian has obviously taken on this trait, which is why you have a one-year-old toddler."

Daebian's birth had been an epic ordeal for Miranda; one many thought she would not survive. Miranda had grown so large during her pregnancy they all thought she was having twins or even triplets. It was not until she went into labor that the former field surgeon, Evan, realized it was something else entirely. The man had to use a blade to open Miranda's womb and pull the twenty-pound baby boy out. If not for Brother Thomas's healing ability and weeks of imbibing healing draughts, Miranda surely would have perished. Even with magical aid, it was a full sixth months before she could leave the bed unassisted. Even now, she showed signs of the strain Daebian's birth had put on her.

At first, he seemed to be like any baby, only very large. The only thing appearing out of sorts was the fact he never cried. He would fuss when hungry or needed changed, but he never wailed. At four months, he began walking, at five, he began talking and he grew at a rate that could almost be seen if you watched long enough. At a year old, he looked like a child of two and talked like a child of four. Even those who did not know his peculiar state immediately noticed something very different about him.

It was in his eyes, those dark orbs seemingly able to look through the flesh and into the very soul of a person. Other than his unusual growth, it was the one thing marking him as something more than the union of Azerick and Miranda. Daebian's eyes were a brown so dark it was difficult to see where the iris ended and the pupil began. When he looked at you, it was as if every secret you ever held laid itself open like a book for him to read. It made people very uncomfortable.

Allister asked, "Have you seen anything unusual or worrisome in his behavior?"

"Not at all. He is a happy, loving little boy who likes to sing and make up poems," Miranda answered. "He is different, but otherwise a perfect child."

"Then unless we see something to the contrary, I think it reasonable to assume there is nothing more to it and treat him in accordance with his level of maturity."

“Speaking of worrisome events, have you heard about Ellyssa’s episode yesterday?” Aggie asked.

Allister nodded. “We discussed it just before you came down. Rusty is concerned about allowing her access to Azerick’s tome.”

“He damn well should be, as should we all. I have studied magic in that book even I find daunting.”

“What you all say is true, and if she is losing the grip on her sanity, we will have to make efforts to keep her from harming herself or others. I will check in on her more often to ensure she is not reaching beyond her abilities again, but I also do not want to take away the one thing that may be offering her a measure of comfort. I fear taking away her only substantial link to Azerick may push her over the edge. On to school business. Our rolls are growing once again and we need to construct another classroom and billets.”

***

Ellyssa leapt the short flight of steps leading into the tower and stalked purposefully toward the gates. She had barely made it out of the tower when the sound of a wordlessly sung tune reached her ears. Her heart skipped a beat as she stopped and spotted Daebian hopping down the steps leading from the new tower. She looked around, frantically seeking another route of escape before he saw her, but it was too late.

"Ellyssa!" Daebian called out in his tiny, shrill voice and raced toward her. "I made up a new poem! You wanna hear it?"

Guilt-ridden anxiety clutched her heart in an iron grip and she found it difficult to draw a breath. She did not usually react this badly, but the past day and a half had already inflicted more stress than she was willing to bear. Daebian looked so much like Azerick it made her ache with guilt. The fact he was so unique only served to remind her how much like her former mentor he was. Barely a year old, he was the size of a two-year-old with the speech and vocabulary of a child twice that.

Ellyssa swallowed the lump in her throat and slung her head from side to side. "No. I'm sorry, I have to go."

She hugged her arms around her body even tighter and broke into a run. She passed through the gate without hassle. No one bothered her anymore. The playful annoyances the melee students once gave her died with Azerick. All they had for her now were looks of reproach and condemnation.

Ellyssa decided there was no way she could go to her classes today, perhaps maybe ever again. Her mind was a jumble and her emotions frayed to the point of breaking so she simply ran. She raced down the cobbled road leading to the city. Maybe a day of browsing the markets would ease her nerves. Even though the city had mourned Azerick's death, Ellyssa doubted anyone would recognize her and direct their scornful looks upon her.

A flash of movement caught the corner of her eye. She peered into the deep shadows of the nearby forest but saw nothing. It was likely Wolf and Ghost, ever vigilant for intruders. Ever since their capture and near death in Sumara, the pair had redoubled their unofficial sentry duty. Gone was Wolf's constant grin and carefree attitude. Like her and Sandy, part of him had died in their captivity.

A massive shadow danced upon the uneven ground as Sandy flew overhead, getting a dragon's eye view of everything and everyone for miles around. The young dragon and Wolf's closeness had increased proportionally with the distance they put between Ellyssa. Sandy was growing at a phenomenal rate. Young dragons grew largely in accordance with the availability of their food source, and Sandy's food was practically unlimited. Although she now did a great deal of hunting on her own, the large stockpiles of food kept at the school ensured her belly was always full and the energy it provided went mostly to growth.

Sandy spent almost her entire time in the woods with Wolf hunting, flying, and practicing her innate dragon magic. Allister had found several references to dragon magic in Azerick's big book. Those, along with her egg memories, gave her the knowledge she needed. Ellyssa knew Sandy's breaking had been much like her own, and the experience created a very similar change in the young dragon. She was wary and worked daily to improve her strength, flying, and magic so no one would ever be able to abuse her again.

Ellyssa did not know how much longer she could tolerate living in a place where every face reminded her of her responsibility in Azerick's death. She needed the school so she could practice and learn. She had already increased her skill considerably by devoting her full attention and nearly every waking minute of her life to practice. She knew Allister and the others were worried her newfound devotion was becoming an obsession, but they did not understand. None of them could ever understand.

It was a long walk to North Haven, but the desire to be anywhere else right now motivated her and inner turmoil fueled her muscles. In little more than an hour, Ellyssa was walking amongst the numerous trade tables and stalls, many of which were still being set up. She was early and the walk burned off her half-eaten breakfast, so Ellyssa bought a roll fresh from the oven and wandered aimlessly for another hour before the majority of the proprietors set their wares out to sell. She navigated the booths and tables at random, looking for nothing in particular. The one thing she wanted could not be found here, or anywhere.

Ellyssa watched some children moving amongst the tables. Some were older than she was and a few others were younger. She knew they were sneak thieves, ready to pilfer a trinket or bite of food if they got the chance. Azerick's school had removed many kids like these from the streets, but not all. This was a way of life for them, one many of them willingly chose. The school was where those kids lived who chose to escape this life. The streets are where those who chose not to go to the school found refuge and did what it took to survive.

It was still early, but Ellyssa was growing bored and much of the stress and anxiety had finally ebbed to the point where she could at least go back home. She still dreaded the thought of sitting in class, but she would not squander her time. She would go down to Azerick's training laboratory, where he kept the big book, and practice her spells. She was just about to leave the square when a light hand hesitantly touched her elbow.

 "Ellyssa".

Ellyssa turned and looked at the woman who stopped her. She was middle-aged but probably ten years younger than the deep lines created by a lifetime of hard, meager living indicated. She wore a thin, homespun dress meticulously repaired and kept together by numerous stitches and patches.

"It's me, your mother," the woman said as she withdrew her trembling hand. "I saw you, and I wanted to know if you were all right."

"You want to know if I'm all right after I got the man you sold me to killed?" Ellyssa asked cruelly. "No,
mother
, I am not all right, but you gave up the right to pretend you cared when you sold me."

"Ellyssa, please. We never stopped loving you. We think of you all the time. He came to us, you know. He came every few months to make sure we were doing okay and to tell us how wonderful you were doing at the—the school."

"When he took me in, he said I was his and you would have no more contact." Ellyssa was surprised by this revelation.

Ellyssa's mother smiled. "He was a kind man, much kinder than he liked to show. He was a good man."

"He was a great man! And because you sold me to him, he is a dead man!"

The woman took a step back in the face of her daughter's fury. "We had no choice. We were all going to starve. We would have died otherwise."