The Firemage's Vengeance (12 page)

Mako’s eyes glinted. “Does the woman have a name?”

Ebon frowned. “Not that I know. I told you I did not see the note. Why? Do you know of her?”

A pregnant silence stretched so long that Ebon quite forgot about his headache. But at last Mako released his collar, pushing him ungently away.

“Never you mind, little Ebon. More important than the note itself is Xain’s mind concerning it. He says it came from us, and I doubt anything will convince him otherwise. But if the note bore the name of anyone in the family, he would not have come to you; he would have gone straight to the High King.”

“I guessed as much myself,” said Ebon. “But Xain seemed most certain. Do you think this is something my father could have done?”

Mako frowned. “Once I would have said he would never be so foolish. But he since has proven himself at least that much so. It still does not make sense, though, and for one reason: Shay could never hold Erin without my knowing of it already.”

“How, then, do we solve the riddle?” said Ebon. “Someone sent the note, and did so to drive a wedge between us and the Dean—or, if they did not intend that, it has happened regardless.”

Then Mako’s eyes lit, and he snapped his fingers. “They did intend it. It is one more step in their plan. An anonymous ransom note, sent to Xain in the knowledge he would think it was from us. Sent by the one who holds Erin in their clutches.”

Ebon frowned, trying to work it out. “Then … then Isra sent the note?”

Mako cuffed him on the side of the head, but not, perhaps, as hard as he might have. Still, it made stars dance in Ebon’s eyes, and he groaned in pain. “No, little idiot. The ones behind Isra. Yerrin. They are the only ones who could keep Isra’s hiding place from me this long. If anyone else were hiding her somewhere on the Seat—especially someone like Shay—I should have found her already.”

“Do you have a way of finding where Yerrin may be keeping her?” Ebon felt a wave of guilt as he thought of Lilith. Almost he spoke on, and told Mako of the conversation with her. But then he thought of Theren’s insistence and held his tongue.

“There are many ways, and but none to know which will bear fruit,” said Mako.

“Then I leave you to it,” said Ebon. “Only hurry, because the longer the search continues, the more energetic I think Xain will become, and if it is discovered that Theren holds the amulet of Kekhit, then we are all doomed.”

Mako gave him a careful look. “I have spent some thought on that. There is a way to remove the amulet as a threat.”

“There is?” said Ebon, frowning. “How?”

“We could let it be known that Theren carries it. The faculty would catch her and imprison her—but you, having revealed the truth, would face no penalty.”

Ebon froze. “I … but Theren would be …”

“My duty does not bind me to protect Theren. Only you.”

Rage coursed through Ebon’s veins, making him shake where he stood. “You will not do that,” said Ebon. “I swear that if you so much as breathe a word of it, to anyone, I will see that you suffer Theren’s fate twice over.”

Mako cocked his head, and a little smile played at the corner of his mouth. “How very like your father you sound just now. But I take no orders from him, either, little Ebon. My duty countermands your rage, and your threat is shorn of claws or fangs.”

“But you do take orders from Halab,” said Ebon. He took a step forwards, though he was aware how pathetic it must seem when the bodyguard stood a full two heads taller. “And if you should betray Theren, I will tell her everything. I will tell her of Matami—yes, perhaps she suspects, and wishes to say nothing, but I will not let the matter lie—and then I will tell her how you made me party to the murder, endangering me before the King’s law. And finally, I will return to the Academy and tell Xain all that I have told Halab, and more besides—the truth about Isra, and the amulet, and how you fled just before Isra took his—”

With movements too fast to see, Mako spun him by the shoulder and kicked out the back of his knees. Ebon fell, his head slamming upon the stone bench, where Mako’s knobby fingers held him fast. He felt the sharp prick of a dagger on the back of his neck. Even as he gasped in pain, Ebon held perfectly still, terrified to move.

“My duty is to guard you,” said Mako. “And to guard Halab. But Halab comes first, always, and you have just threatened to put her in mortal peril. And all for the sake of a girl who is no kin to either of us. Sort out your loyalties, goldshitter.”

“They are clear to my mind, if not to yours,” said Ebon. “I trust that Halab would emerge from such a mess unscathed. I cannot say the same for you.”

He heard a snort behind him, and though he could not see Mako’s face, he heard incredulity in the bodyguard’s voice. “You would sacrifice yourself for your friend.”

“As easy as breathing.”

“Be silent. I was not asking—I was seeing a truth for the first time.”

The pressure on Ebon’s head vanished, as did the dagger’s tip behind him.

“Very well, goldshitter. If you wish to live in foolish nobility, it its yours to have. I prefer life, and power, and a purse full of coin.”

Slowly Ebon rose. The motion and the impact on the stone had made his headache twice as painful, and he grimaced as he found his feet. But though Mako had thoroughly trounced him, he still felt a small sense of victory.

“Now then. It is of the utmost importance that you find Isra, before anyone can discover that Theren holds the amulet.”

Mako smirked at him. “I have told you already that I will use my every resource—and I have many of them. We know already that Isra must have used my secret entrance to get into and out of the Academy. I have placed a watch upon it, so that if anyone comes or goes, I will hear of it. Worry not, little Ebon. Your friend will not face the knives of the Mystics. And I will soon remove the problem of Isra from our lives.”

He turned and vanished into the hedge. Ebon rubbed at the back of his neck and shuddered as he felt a little drop of blood. It felt very much as though a fox troubled his henhouse, and he had just released a lion to kill the thing. He had little doubt the fox would die—but what might the lion do after?

DASKO [4]

That night, Theren went to place her mindwyrd on Dasko for the final time. All the afternoon they spent together in the library, she bounced in her armchair. Her leg would not stop twitching back and forth, and a smile played constantly at her lips. Ebon grew irritated after a while, but how could he tell her to stop? She had borne the greatest burden of guilt out of all of them, and deserved every feeling of elation.

When at last dinner had gone by, she led them out onto the Academy’s grounds. Ebon and Kalem kept careful watch for anyone drawing too near as they went. No one did. Theren had little mind for anything or anyone other than Dasko, but Ebon was afraid that fate would play some cruel joke, catching them in the act even as they prepared to stop forever.

But they reached the meeting place without incident, and there they found Dasko waiting for them. He stood as they entered, and while Kalem stood lookout again, Theren went to him.

“After we are done here, you will forget you have seen us, and if asked you will say only that you went out for a walk on the Academy grounds, alone. When I tell you we are finished, you will enter the citadel. You will find Xain, and you will tell him your head is spinning, and that your memory plays tricks on you. You will tell him you saw Isra.”

“Yes,” said Dasko.

“He should not be so certain,” said Ebon quietly. The faculty had to believe that Dasko was under mindwyrd, and if he were, his memory would be shaky and unclear.

Theren glared at him, but turned back to Dasko after a moment. “You will tell Xain that you think you saw Isra, but you cannot be certain.”

“Yes,” said Dasko.

Theren released a great heave of breath.

“We are finished.”

“Yes.” Dasko stepped past her, making for the gap in the hedge. He was almost gone, almost out of sight, when Theren took a half-step after him and called out.

“I am sorry.”

“Yes.”

Then he was gone.

fourteen

THE NEXT MORNING, EBON FELT his heart in his throat as he approached the dining hall. He found Theren within, already sitting with a plate of food, but Kalem was nowhere to be seen. Theren had great bags under her eyes, and her fingers were twitching. Ebon wondered if she had slept at all the night before. Very soon now, they would learn if the scheme had worked. Quickly he fetched his own food and joined her at table.

“Have you heard anything?” he said.

“Who do you think I speak to, other than you and Kalem?” said Theren irritably. She stabbed her spoon into her oatmeal. Ebon smirked at her words—until he realized how true they were, and how he, too, had precious little conversation within the Academy unless it was with his two closest friends.

It seemed an age before Kalem arrived. When he did, they tried to wave him over to the table, but he only waved back and set off to get food. Theren gave an angry growl and made to go after him, but Ebon urged her to remain seated.

“Let us make no more commotion than we must,” he said. “Waiting a little while longer will not change the answer.”

At last Kalem joined them at the table, and the moment his rear touched the bench, Theren had seized his arm to drag him close. “What have you heard?” she said. “Has the rumor flown yet?”

“Let go of me,” Kalem groused, pulling himself from her reach. “Am I your only source of news? There are hundreds of students in the Academy.”

“Pretend, for a moment, that you are indeed the only one,” said Ebon. “Now speak, and quickly.”

“Yes, the rumor has flown. They are saying that Dasko was found under the influence of mindwyrd, and suspicion has fallen upon Isra, as it should have.”

Theren gave a happy cry, slapping her hand down on the table. Ebon quickly tamped down his own smile, leaning in to hiss at her.

“Be silent. We are trying not to draw attention, remember?”

Theren grew quiet, but could not remove the smile from her face. Nor could Ebon blame her for that. She tore through her breakfast and stood at once, grinning down at them.

“I fancy a walk upon the grounds. Do either of you care to join me?”

Ebon waved her off. “We are still hungry. Go, and enjoy yourself.”

But just then, Lilith appeared just behind Theren. Theren turned to leave and ran straight into her, forcing her to take a step back. Lilith winced and seemed for a moment as if she might fall, but Theren gripped her arms and held her upright.

“Lilith! I am sorry. Forgive me.”

“It is nothing,” said Lilith, turning aside as her cheeks filled with color. “May I sit with you for a moment?”

Theren gave Kalem and Ebon an awkward look. “Of course. I shall see the two of you in the library.”

“Actually, I meant the three of you at once,” said Lilith.

“Oh! Oh, of course. Here.”

Theren held out an arm, helping Lilith as she settled herself down onto the bench. She leaned forwards, prompting Ebon and Kalem to do the same from the other side of the table.

“I have visited my family—at least those who dwell upon the Seat, and who I may speak to openly.”

“And?” said Ebon. “Does anyone know aught of Isra?”

“No one seemed to,” said Lilith. “Of course, I could not interrogate everyone. But if she is being held in some place owned by my kin, some would know about it. And I heard no breath of such a thing, nor saw the downcast eyes of a liar. If indeed someone in our clan is working alongside her, that truth is buried deep. Deeper than I can dig, at any rate.”

“Blast,” said Kalem. He leaned back, crossing his arms with a pout. “I suppose that would have made things too easy, and fate has no wish to make our lives convenient.”

“I am sorry,” said Lilith. “I wish I had a different answer, but I do not.”

Theren cautiously put a hand on her arm. Lilith stiffened in her seat, but did not pull away. “Thank you, Lilith. You have done us a great service, and more than we should have asked of you in the first place. We will not forget it.”

Silence ruled for a moment, until Theren gave Ebon and Kalem a hard look. The two of them quickly murmured their assent.

“It was the least I could do, after Oren,” said Lilith. “Good day to all of you.”

She stood and left the table, joining Nella, who sat a little distance away.

“That is a disappointment,” said Theren.

“Indeed,” said Kalem. “I suppose we must rely on Mako now. And on Adara, though I wonder if the lover’s guild reaches as far as your family.”

“Hm? Oh, yes,” said Ebon. In truth he had barely heard them, for he was watching Lilith and Nella. The two of them sat at a table with many other students, but separated from them by a little distance. They were more than alone; they were lonely. Each fixed a somber stare upon their breakfast bowls, and when they raised their eyes to speak, their words were clipped and muted.

They looked nothing like the girls who had tormented Ebon when he first arrived. And that should have seemed like a good thing, but there was no joy in his heart. Instead he felt hollow—but likely only half so much as they did, for they had lost Oren.