Aldwyn's Academy (4 page)

O
nce out of sight, Dorian moved quickly across the street, avoiding standing puddles of icy water and dirty slush.

As he came up to the entrance of Maverick’s shop, his eye was drawn to a poster stuck there with a rusted metal nail. The parchment was old and faded, worn down by wind and rain and time.

Dorian squinted at the faint image of a woman with dark hair.

Feeling uneasy, he quickly slipped into the shadowed confines of the forbidden shop.

Immediately he smelled wood smoke and brewing tea as well as the subtler odor of a hundred different spell components. The heavy door swung shut behind him and he blinked, eyes adjusting to the gloom.

Shapes took form out of the shadowed space, revealing tables, shelves, open chests, bookcases, and strange statues filling a large, single great room.

A cauldron bubbled in a hearth of glowing embers, spilling a gray steam that clung to the floor. Fat red candles burned in random locations, reflecting flickering yellow light off crystals and the occasional mirror. Rows of jars filled with strange items lined an apothecary’s table while bunches of dried flowers and plant roots hung from the ceiling.

Feeling cut off and alone, Dorian steeled his nerves and stepped deeper into the shop.

A black cat as big as a puma stretched lazily, mouth open wide to reveal a long pink tongue. Then, with a flick of its tail, the cat was simply gone.

Where the cat had lounged he saw a Portable Hole, and he wished fervently that he could use one of the devices to take him back home.

“Don’t be afraid of Scratch,” a voice said from behind Dorian.

The boy spun around.

No one was there in the aisle but he caught a flash of motion out of the corner of his eye and twisted again. This time he spied a figure, though how it could have possibly been the one who’d whispered so close to his ear, Dorian didn’t know.

He narrowed his eyes but couldn’t quite seem to make out the figure. He stepped closer, but the image was still hazy. The figure chuckled dryly and Dorian suddenly made him out quite clearly.

The figure solidified from the gloom into the shape of a male wearing a green cloak over black leather pants and shirt.

At first Dorian couldn’t tell the man’s age. He seemed older despite being beardless, but the impression of age came mostly from slightly uplifted eyes the same shade of green as the man’s cloak.

Then Dorian got a glimpse of the man’s ears and gave up trying to determine his age as he was obviously of elf blood.

Possibly only partially though, Dorian considered, given the breadth of the man’s shoulders and his height.

Pale gold hair was swept back in a ponytail, revealing one ear festooned with earrings and piercings. Stylized tendrils of tattoos crawled up the exposed flesh of the figure’s neck and down his wrists.

He’s an eladrin, Dorian realized, a high elf.

Less common than their elf cousins, the eladrin were creatures of magic exercising strong ties to nature. Denizens of shining cities of the Feywild, they sometimes slipped into the world of men.

To find one working as a shopkeeper was outrageously rare and Dorian wondered why his mother had never mentioned the anomaly before.

“I,” the man announced, “am Maverick, proprietor of this establishment.”

“I’m—” the boy began.

“Dorian Ravensmith, son of the illustrious and much storied Serissa Ravensmith, enchantress at court,” Maverick interrupted.

Dorian closed his mouth.

Everyone knew his mother.

Among the circles of wizards, no one ever seemed much impressed with his father, who’d cut a more mundane path to notoriety in service of the king.

He knew it shouldn’t bother him, knew he should be proud of his mother and her achievements, but most of the time he just wanted to be accepted on his own terms—not as the son of the most famous magic-user in the land next to the legendary Lowadar.

Maverick studied the boy.

Dorian felt himself blushing. He’d been attacked and almost killed by dire wolves, and here he was, intimidated by a shop owner.

He turned and met Maverick’s gaze squarely.

“You have me at a disadvantage, sir.”

He kept his voice quiet.

The eladrin smirked and offered a mocking half bow. “The cub has teeth.” He turned and began walking up the aisle to a counter. “Which is good, because you’ll need them at the academy.”

“What do you mean?” Dorian demanded. “Why would I need teeth at Aldwyns …” Dorian’s question trailed off.

The eladrin had disappeared.

He turned in a half circle, blinked, and suddenly spotted the eladrin in the shadows behind the counter. Keeping the proprietor firmly in sight, Dorian quickly moved forward.

Suddenly, Maverick was right beside him though Dorian hadn’t seen him move, and the eladrin’s voice was intense as he spoke directly into the boy’s ear.

“Because magic is dangerous, Dorian Ravensmith, and you’d do well to never forget that.” Maverick straightened and took a step backward.

Dorian blinked and the eladrin was behind his counter once again. “Also, quite frankly, you’ll need it to help you with some of your fellow students.”

Dorian walked up to the counter. “You’re not suggesting wizardry students can be difficult?”

“Have you
met
your mother?” Maverick laughed. “In all the world there is no one more competitive than
a wizard. The competition for top honors at Aldwyns rivals any university in our world. It makes the military college your father graduated from look like a nursery school! Only the best of the brightest get to come here. Of course, having Serissa Ravensmith for a relative doesn’t hurt, eh?”

Dorian sighed. “I suppose that’s the only reason I’m here at all. After what happened on the road, Lowadar is doubting whether I should be here.”

“Ah, yes,” Maverick said. “You did have quite a welcome, didn’t you?”

“How did you know—” Dorian began.

The statement seemed to surprise the irrepressible eladrin for a moment, and he suddenly busied himself with preparing a package. Little boxes went inside of a larger box which in turn went into Dorian’s Heward’s Handy Haversack.

The boy jumped as he recognized his property suddenly in the eladrin’s hands.

The backpack was an essential item. The magical properties of the carryall were such that a great deal of items could be placed in the charmed container without any noticeable increase in either weight or mass.

“Hey, that’s mine!”

Maverick smiled as he slipped the package he’d wrapped into the haversack and then handed it back.

“Wolves weren’t all you saw in the forest, was it?” His eyes met the boy’s. “There was something only you saw. Something only you know.”

Dorian had been amazed by the eladrin so many times he was feeling numb by the breadth of the Fey’s knowledge.

“Yes,” he nodded. “But I don’t know what it was. Just that it was bad.”

“Things are moving in the academy, things no one around Aldwyns understands yet. There are ghosts in the halls and wolves in the forest, and not everyone you meet in the sunlight will be your friend when darkness falls. But if you are keen, Dorian, you might yet win Lowadar’s respect—and your mother’s along with it.” Maverick regarded the boy with knowing eyes. “That’s what you want most of all isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Dorian admitted.

His voice was so low it was almost inaudible, but Maverick understood him well enough.

“That’s the spirit, cub. You’ll show them the stuff you’re made of.” The eladrin cocked his head to one side as if listening to something only he could hear. “Careful,” he warned. “Someone’s coming round to collect you. And”—the eladrin touched a long finger to the side of his nose and winked—“mum is the word on my little welcome basket.” Maverick grinned like a shark. “Lowadar may tolerate my establishment
right across the street from his venerated academy, but not the items in that haversack. Now go … and beware the ghosts.”

Dorian looked up from the haversack. “Thank—” he began.

The shopkeeper had disappeared.

A
blunt head nuzzled next to Helene’s ear. “Sshh. Make no sound, make no move, and look to the far tables.”

Helene stiffened.

Was this the spy who was listening at her doorway?

The hand gently fell away from her mouth and her large, dark eyes turned in the direction she’d been instructed.

A shrouded figure glided out of nothingness, trailing gray robes behind it.

Helene felt the skin along her arms and the back of her neck tingle. The figure was translucent and insubstantial, yet tangible enough so there was no denying it was there.

It shifted its hood, looking out across the tables, and Helene saw a nearly fleshless skull with dark hollows for eyes.

The lipless mouth opened wide and a ghastly wailing echoed out. Both Helene and the person beside her reacted instantly.

Wands emerged and incantations snapped simultaneously.

Out of the corner of her eye, Helene got her first look at the spy. She gasped in shock and her spell faltered.

Standing next to her, wearing the red robes of a first year student was a young male orc.

The banshee’s energy flared out at them, and Helene would have been struck if the orc’s Shield spell hadn’t flashed out to protect them both.

The banshee’s negative, life-draining energy hit the shield and for a moment, the shape of the orc’s magical force field revealed itself in the form of a snarling wolf.

The banshee wailed once then turned and fled through a wall.

The boy turned to Helene, and she saw enough of his features to realize that he must be only half orc. This in itself was completely unheard of, but second to her amazement was the cold truth that her people hated orcs completely.

“Thanks for the help, second year,” the half-orc boy said, voice slightly mocking.

Helene flushed, embarrassed. The half-orc had protected her. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t the one who’d been spying on her.

“What are you doing sneaking around like that!” Helene demanded.

“There was a
banshee
in the dining hall!” The student looked at her. “That doesn’t surprise you?”

“I didn’t know who to be more frightened of, a banshee or an orc.”

“No need to thank me. Your prejudice is welcome enough, elf. But I’ll thank you to call me by my name, Caleb, rather than orc. You make it sound like a dirty word.”

Helene blushed.

“Why were you following me?” she demanded.

“What are you talking about? You ran into me.”

“Yes, while following someone who was spying on me in my room!” Her cheeks were red now, “and I find you in the company of an evil spirit.” She forced her words to come out cold and pointed.

“What!” The half-orc student sputtered. “I saved you, elf! Do you know what the touch of a banshee can do?”

From the east hall, a large group of students entered the room.

Helene sighed. The half-orc was probably innocent, Helene had to admit to herself. He wouldn’t have attempted to save her otherwise.

Perhaps it had just been the wind pushing on her door and not a spy at all. She shuddered to imagine what else it might have been. In any case, she had no more time to waste speaking to dirty orcs. She had to meet up with that little bother, Dorian.

Her mother would never let her hear the end of it if she was late bringing him to Lowadar for his tour of the school grounds.

Helene drew herself up very straight.

She chose her words with the clever way some people of position have of saying one thing out loud but having the meaning of that communication be quite the opposite.

“Thank you, first year. My name is Helene Miridori. I’m needed by the headmaster. I must go now.”

She turned on her heel, head held high, nose pointed upward, and strode down the hall and out the front gates of Aldwyns Academy.