The Alchemist's Touch (27 page)

Ebon had a moment’s trepidation as he approached it. But the gates lay open, and travelers came in and out at their will, for it was not heavily guarded during the day. Still, he raised his hood. Theren and Kalem followed as they emerged into the open air beyond. A wave of sea breeze struck them, salty and sweet, carrying the cries of gulls. A morning fog lay upon the Great Bay, thick and tall enough to hide the horizon, ending half a league from the dock’s edge.

“We shall search the southeastern marking on the map first,” said Ebon. “To see if the boat and cave mean anything. If I am right, I wager we shall find an empty cave, its boat long gone.”

But glancing back over his shoulder, he saw that Kalem had stopped short. The boy stood just outside the gate, off to the side, his eyes fixed on the Great Bay. As Ebon looked closer, he noticed Kalem’s shaking hands. Theren, too, had seen him freeze.

“Kalem?” she said. “What is it?”

“The…the fog,” said Kalem, his voice trembling. “Ebon, can you not feel it?”

Ebon glanced at the fog, but saw nothing untoward. “I see nothing.”

“Do not see,” said Kalem. “
Feel
.”

Ebon closed his eyes and focused. Then he felt it—a tingling at the back of his neck. The same sensation as when Kalem spun mists beside him.

“Sky above,” he whispered.

“What?” snapped Theren. “What is it?”

“That is no morning mist,” said Kalem. “It is the work of alchemists—or mayhap a swarm.”

Horns blew on the wall above, making them jump with a start. And then as they watched, hearts sinking with horror, a host of ships sailed from the mist, drums pounding with war.

twenty-nine

EBON WAS FROZEN. SEEING THE fleet bearing down on them sapped his courage and will. He felt like one of the training dummies—dumb, lifeless, unable to move. Horns and bells blared above them, now joined by the shouts of guards upon the wall as they saw the ships coming at last.

“What should we do?” said Kalem. “What is this?”

“An invasion,” said Theren. “And look at the pennants. Those are Dulmun ships.”

“But what do we do?” Kalem repeated.

“We must go,” said Ebon. “Now!”

His shout sent life into their limbs, and they burst into a run. But Ebon and Theren went in opposite directions, and crashed into each other.

“Where are you going?” Ebon asked.

“Where are
you
going?” Theren said. “That map showed a boat on the southeastern end of the island. It must be for escape. We can use it.”

“She is right,” said Kalem. “If it is still there, which it may not be. But what other choice do we have?”

But Ebon placed a trembling hand on each of their shoulders to still them, and forced himself to stand strong. “I cannot come with you.”

“What?” said Theren. “Why not?”

Ebon thought of the Academy, of its thick granite walls and the three library floors. He saw Jia and even cowardly Credell. He thought of Astrea’s tiny face, her wild hair standing out around her head like some hat from one of the outland kingdoms. “The Academy. If indeed my family played some part in this, my hand was there as well. I must go and try to save whomever I can.”

“But they are on the west end. They will have plenty of time to escape, for they can run to the western…” Kalem’s voice trailed off, eyes widening. “Oh, no.”

“Another attack?” said Theren, reaching the same thought. “From the west?”

“Coming from Selvan,” said Ebon, nodding. Terror shook his voice, and tears leaked from his eyes. “Perhaps the army of Selvan itself, but their king is kin to the High King, and so I suspect another force. But regardless, the attack will come from both east and west. The Academy will try to get the students out, and they will march straight into the enemy’s waiting blades.”

Theren stamped her foot and looked away. “You are right. Damn it.”

“I…I will come, too.” Kalem squared his shoulders and tried to stand taller.

“The two of you could make for the boats,” said Ebon. “I only go to deliver a message. One can do that as easily as three, and this attack is my fault, not yours.”

“I went with you to the Shining Door,” said Theren.

“And I…well, I would not go off on my own, letting you walk into peril,” said Kalem.

Ebon swallowed a sudden lump. “Thank you, my friends. But come, we have tarried too long. Hurry!”

They ran for the gate, and made it through as it began to lower. Ebon took one last look behind him through the portcullis before it closed, and saw that the ships were drawing near. Rows of warriors were arranged on their decks, all in Dulmun green and white. The iron gates swung shut, blocking both ships and portcullis.

They made off through the streets, Ebon running at top speed, with Theren and Kalem lending their hands in support when he needed. The main road across the island had turned to chaos, with nobles and merchants looking about them in terror, unsure of what threatened them beyond the walls. They all seemed half-ready to flee, yet they held steady, as though hoping their walls might save them.

“Dulmun attacks!” cried Ebon. “Defend the walls, or make for your homes! The Seat is under assault!” The others took up the cry, and it spread through the streets. Almost immediately he regretted opening his mouth, for the thick crowd became a congealed mass of bodies, heaving back and forth as everyone tried to go in every direction at once.

“Come! This way!” Theren led them off the street into the alleys. There they found the way was clearer, and soon were making good time. Before long they passed the High King’s palace on the right, and before much longer the Academy loomed tall and dark before them.

They turned back towards the main road, but before reaching the front door, they heard a tremendous
THOOM
from the west. The sound and force stopped them cold. Ebon tried to spy its source through the crowd, but bodies pressed too thick.

“Up!” said Theren. A wagon full of hay sat nearby, and together they climbed atop it. From on high, they saw that the western gate lay in ruins, and the portcullis had been raised. Troops wearing blue and grey poured through the gap, slaughtering all in their path. A chill ran down his spine as Ebon recognized the blue-and-grey clothing of the man at the Shining Door to whom he had delivered his parcel.

“Those are no soldiers of Selvan,” said Kalem.

“Come,” said Ebon. “Into the Academy.”

They ran across the street and threw open the door.

The entry hall was packed, students milling about in confusion, while instructors stood about hoping to maintain order. More students filed in from every hallway and down the main stairs. Amidst them all, Ebon spied Jia, standing in the center, directing the other instructors to gather their students and make ready to leave. Ebon ran to her.

“Instructor, you have received word already?”

“Ebon, rejoin your class,” she said briskly. “Obey your instructor’s orders. No need to worry, we are leaving by the western docks.”

“The docks are taken. An army has just claimed hold of the gates. Even now they fill the streets.”

Jia’s face became grave, and she looked away. “That is ill news. Curse the Dean for his cowardice.” Her eyes sharpened as they met Ebon’s. “Those words were spoken in anger. Forget I said them.”

“What did the Dean do?”
 

Jia gave Theren a wary look. Ebon spoke up instead, feigning concern. “Please, Instructor. He is my cousin.”

“He is nowhere to be found,” said Jia. “I sent for him the moment I heard, but he does not appear to be in the Academy. It is no matter. There are other ways off the island. Instructors! We make for the south wall! Now, proceed through the front door, as quickly and orderly as you can!”

Students pushed by in a rush, barely restrained by their instructor’s barked commands. Kalem stepped close to Ebon. “Do you think the Dean received word of the attack?”

“I doubt it,” said Ebon. “From what he said when he attacked me, my family has removed him from their council. Most likely he heard the same warning as the rest of the Academy and put the pieces together as we did. But never mind him. We must aid the escape.”

In a great mass the Academy entered the streets, turning east and then south, making their way to the walls. Ebon looked all about, and at last spotted instructor Credell. The man shivered with every step, his wide eyes sweeping about like a sow led to slaughter. Yet he kept his students about him, ushering them along with the others. Ebon found himself admiring the man for not having fled.

“Ebon!” Astrea’s small, piping voice cut through the din. She threw herself through the crowd to clutch at his legs. “Ebon, what is happening? Why are we leaving?”

He scooped her up, though the pain of his bruises nearly made him cry out, and held her on his hip while walking with the crowd. “It is nothing to fear, Astrea. Some men have come to attack the island, but our instructors will keep us safe.”
 

Ebon only wished he believed that himself.
 

“Where do they mean to take us?” said Theren. “There is no gate in the southern wall. There are towers and places to climb down, but I think that would take too long.”

“Jia surely has some plan,” said Ebon. “We must trust her.”

By the time they finally reached the south wall, sounds of fighting pressed close on all sides. Ebon could hear the clash of steel to their left, to their right, and behind them as well, though he had not yet seen any of the combatants. The procession stopped at the wall, where students clumped together en masse. Ebon lowered Astrea to the ground, and she ran to join the rest of Credell’s class.

Jia barked commands. Several instructors separated from the crowd and went to the wall. Ebon saw Credell join them, and with a start realized that, in fact, all the instructors were alchemists, with some of the older alchemy students in their company.

“They mean to—” Kalem began.

“I see it,” said Ebon. “You should help.”

Kalem looked uncertain, but Ebon gave him an encouraging nod. The boy scampered away to join the others at the wall.

The alchemists stepped forwards as one, and placed their hands to the stone. Their eyes glowed, light mingling until it was like a thousand torches shining upon the wall. Slowly at first, and then faster, they shifted the stone, spreading it out and away, layering it upon itself above the alchemists and to either side.

In moments it was done, and a wide door had appeared in the wall, as neat and as smooth as if it had been carved there when the thing was built. The alchemists stepped back, the glow fading from their eyes.

“All right!” said Jia. “Instructors, bring your students through the wall and lead them west. We make for the docks to capture a ship and bring us across the water.”

“Instructor,” said Ebon quickly. “What about the rest of the island?”

Her eyes wavered, but the thin line of her lips remained firm. “Our duty is to the students. We must see them to safety, or lose the next generation of wizards in one fell swoop.”

Ebon swallowed and nodded.
 

Someone gave a great shout, and they all turned to look. Soldiers in grey and blue spilled into the streets from the west, steel swords bared and glinting in the sunlight. With a battle-cry they fell upon the students fleeing through the wall.

thirty

THE INSTRUCTORS LEAPT FORWARDS TO defend their charges. The firemages and mindmages struck first, and the attackers were driven back in a hail of flame and thunder and invisible blows that sent them crashing to the ground. But they were many, and pressed forwards with fervor, until soon they were amongst the black robes.

Then Ebon saw weremages in battle for the first time. Jia transformed before his eyes. Her skin rippled as muscles formed beneath it, hair sprouted from every inch, and grey robes melted into her skin. Then a bear stood where Jia had been, larger and more fierce than Ebon had ever seen, almost twice as tall as he was, its claws long and glinting like steel. With a heart-stopping roar Jia launched herself into the fray, ripping into the soldiers like an axe through kindling. They cried out in terror and fell back before her. Other weremages turned to beasts and joined in the attack, until soon blood was a river through the street.

But they were still few, and some of the blue-clad soldiers edged around them, seeking the students. One came straight for Ebon, and he backed up quickly. Theren stepped forwards, and an invisible blow hammered the woman into the ground. Her sword skittered across the pavement, and Ebon picked it up with shaking fingers. He had learned some fencing at home, but never with so heavy a blade.
 

Another soldier charged, heading straight for Credell’s class. The children recoiled and screamed, while the instructor tried to place himself before them. Ebon struck wildly, stopping the soldier in his tracks. But the man took only a moment to recover, and swung with practiced ease to bat Ebon’s blade out of the way. An overhead strike came too quickly for Ebon to block it—but then Credell was there, his hand raised to catch the weapon. Ebon belted a warning, but the blade turned to water upon Credell’s fingers and splashed harmlessly across them. The soldiers stood dumbfounded, until Credell leapt forwards and seized his throat. Iron rippled out around his fingers, transforming cloth and flesh, until the man’s neck had been turned to metal. He fell to the ground, unable to gasp, eyes bulging from their sockets as he fought desperately for life. Credell stepped back, staring at the man in horror, shoulders shaking.

“The children.” Credell did not hear him, so Ebon shook his shoulder. “The children! Get them through the wall!”

Credell trembled. Then he nodded, turned, and ushered the children onwards with quiet words. Ebon turned back, seeking Theren and Kalem. But before he found them, he saw Nella. The girl stood near the edge of the crowd of students, her eyes flying wildly about in fear. A soldier in blue leapt forwards through a gap in the teachers, trying to attack the students. Nella screamed and tried to reach for her magic. Her eyes glowed, and flames sprang from her fingers. But they guttered out almost at once as she lost her concentration. The soldier pressed forwards, sword jabbing for her gut. Nella tried to step back, but tripped upon her own feet and fell.