The Firemage's Vengeance (13 page)

He glanced at Kalem and Theren, who had kept on talking despite his distraction. What would it be like, he wondered, trying to carry on with one of them dead? He tried to imagine sitting here, eating his porridge with Kalem, or with Theren, and the third seat empty. Would he ever be able to look away from it? Or would it loom between them, vacant and filled with presence at the same time, as though a spirit sat between them, invisible and silent, watching?

Ebon shuddered, and his thoughts returned to Oren. Despite Lilith’s words, he believed Mako: Yerrin had to be behind this. He wondered how a family could be so cruel, concocting schemes that led to the death and torture of their own children. The thought of Isra striking again made him quail, and he imagined her crushing the life from one of his friends as her eyes glowed black.

He could not allow it.

“Magestones,” he muttered.

Theren and Kalem jumped in their seats, and both looked quickly all about them.

“Be silent, you idiot,” growled Theren. “You should know better by now than to say that word aloud in this place.”

“Oh, who cares for that anymore?” said Ebon, leaning forwards. “Xain himself told us all that we cannot keep hiding from the truth about magestones and their effects—though no doubt he would roast me if he heard me saying the word, unjust as it might be. I think Lilith may be able to help us find Isra after all—if she can find where the stones are coming from.”

Kalem looked to Theren. “He might be right. If someone is helping her, and they are wise, they will not deal with her closely. They may funnel the stones to someone outside the family, and that person may bring them to Isra.”

“I know it is a great thing to ask,” said Ebon. “But it could help.”

Theren’s eyes shifted back and forth, and though she said no word of argument, neither did she rise at first. “She has likely taken a great risk already.”

“I think she is clever,” said Ebon. Theren’s nostrils flared, and he held up a hand. “No, do not misunderstand me. I only mean that I am sure she can ask about such things without endangering herself. Lilith is no fool. And if she does attract some attention, it can be no more dangerous than the peril facing the Academy and all who dwell here.”

Theren’s jaw clenched. “We should not discuss this here. I will ask her to see us in the library this afternoon.”

She rose and went to Lilith’s side, leaning down to whisper in her ear. After a moment she straightened and left the dining hall. Lilith looked over her shoulder, giving Ebon a small nod.

fifteen

THAT MORNING IN PERRIN’S CLASS, Ebon found himself endlessly distracted by thoughts of Lilith and the family Yerrin. He tried to concentrate, shutting his eyes tight to block out the buzzing of his worries.

“You are preoccupied today.” Astrea’s words held no judgement, nor much interest. She spoke in the same dead monotone he had come to expect from her recently.

“It is … well, it is all the business going on about the Academy these days.”

“You mean with Isra. I am no fool.”

Ebon frowned. He had not wanted to bring that up. He chose not to answer, instead looking down at the rod in his hand. Turning it from wood to stone was now as easy as blinking. But he had not yet managed to turn it the other way, though at times he felt as if he was close. Some other spells he had grown more proficient in—after the night with Matami, he could shift stone much more easily. But transmuting up, the colloquial term for turning simple matter more complex, still eluded him.

Now he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He pressed his fingertips to the rod, peering into it with his mind’s eye. The room grew brighter with his magelight. He saw the rod, the simple parts that made up its stone, small and solid and clinging together tightly.

He changed them.

Nothing happened.

He changed them.

The rod rippled. A fine sweat broke out on Ebon’s brow. His teeth pressed so tight together that his chin began to hurt. A little gasp burst from his mouth, unbidden.

He changed them.

Wood rippled along the rod in an instant, and with a snap the magelight died in his eyes.

“Yes!” Ebon crowed, leaping from his bench and holding the rod aloft. Then he froze. The whole classroom had fallen silent around him while every student stared. Near the back of the room, Perrin fixed him with a hard look—though he thought he saw some trace of amusement in her eye.

“Well, Ebon?” she said. “Now that you have all of our attention, what do you mean to do with it?”

“Nothing, Instructor,” Ebon stammered. He proffered the wand. “Only I have turned my rod to wood at last.”

“That is well done. And what are the rest of you staring at? Get back to your lessons.”

Around the room, everyone jerked in their seats and turned their eyes back to the spells on the desks before them. Perrin murmured some final words to the student she was with, and then lumbered to the front of the room.

“Well, change it back,” she said.

Ebon focused, and in a moment the rod rippled back to stone.

“Good. That comes easily to you now, as it should. And the other way again, so that I can see it.”

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and concentrated. Then he stared at the rod—no, glared at it, every muscle in his body tensing, his knuckles white as he gripped it. It did not take quite so long this time, but still it seemed an eternity before wood rippled down along its length, transforming it.

“Very well done indeed,” said Perrin. “It took you perhaps a little longer to learn the spell than it should have, but with your skill at shifting stone, I should say you are right on course to finish this class in a year.”

Ebon groaned. “I thought this took no time at all! It has not even been two months yet.”

“But this is the easiest of your testing spells. You had better get to work on the next, for it will take you far longer to learn.”

He slumped back down onto his bench, dejected. Perrin clapped him gently on the shoulder—gently for her, though Ebon thought she might break his collarbone.

“No need to look so crestfallen. You are a wizard just like any other, Ebon, and that is something remarkable, even if you do not have the strength of some Wizard King.”

“Of course, Instructor.”

“Do you remember your second test?”

He searched his mind and looked away, embarrassed. “I … I confess I have forgotten. I remember I have to change a stone’s color, but I think that is the third one.”

“Right you are,” she said. “Now you must learn to turn a flower to ice, without changing its shape. There is a vase of them near the front of the room. Go fetch one.”

She left him to help another student, while he went to do as she commanded. When he returned, he gave Astrea a rueful look. She returned only a dead-eyed stare.

“There is always another lesson to be learned, I suppose,” said Ebon.

“Always,” murmured Astrea. She reached out for his wooden rod, which now lay on the desk before her. With a flash of her eyes, she turned it stone—and then, with another flash, she turned it back to wood.

Ebon gawked at her. “What … how did you do that?”

The corner of her mouth twitched in a smile, but she crushed it at once. “You have just done the same thing.”

“I have been practicing longer than you, and it is a great effort. You did it as easily as flipping a coin.”

She frowned and looked about. “Some spells come more easily to some wizards, they say.”

“Of course, I did not mean offense,” Ebon said quickly. But he thought, How could I not have seen the great strides she has taken in her learning? Am I so poor a friend? “What else can you do? Have you been practicing other spells?”

Rather than draw her out, that seemed only to make her retreat further into her shell. Her shoulders hunched, and she pushed the rod away so that it rolled down the desk. “No. That one just came easily.”

Guilt struck him like a blow to the ribs. He had been so preoccupied with Isra and Lilith the last few days, he had almost forgotten Astrea entirely. The girl she had once viewed as an older sister now ran amok, threatening all who studied at the Academy. How must she be suffering? She needed him now more than ever, but he was off spending his evenings with Adara instead.

“I am sorry I have not come to see you as much,” he said in a low voice. “There is no excuse, for I know your heart must be greatly troubled.”

“And do you think you can rid me of that trouble?” To his surprise, Astrea’s voice had gone cold and bitter in an instant. “Or do you mean to protect me? If so, you need not waste your effort. I do not believe Isra means to hurt anyone, though it seems clear you think she does.”

Ebon frowned. He knew Astrea must be troubled about this, but her words were ridiculous. “Why do you think she is here, then?”

“Mayhap she has come to clear her name. Lilith cleared hers, when everyone thought she was a villain. Why not Isra?”

“Lilith only had to prove her innocence because of Isra,” said Ebon. “This is not the same thing.”

Astrea gave no answer, but only turned away to hide behind her wild, frizzy hair. Ebon sighed, feeling his quickened pulse gradually slow.

“Isra tried to kill me, Astrea. My friends as well. When we saw her in the kitchen, she tried to destroy us. We only escaped through sheer luck.”

She turned on him, her wild eyes sparkling in anger. “You cannot know that for certain. None of you can. None of you are trying to help her. Did you even try talking to her? Or did your friend Theren attack her on sight?”

Ebon went still, mouth open. The first thought that came to his mind was that yes, Astrea was right, Theren had attacked the moment she saw Isra. But that was only after they had fought Isra in Xain’s home, where she had made every effort to kill them all, and had placed Theren under mindwyrd. He could not say so, however. And so he had nothing to say at all.

“I thought so,” said Astrea. She turned away and buried her face in her arms where they were crossed upon the desk.

Heavy footsteps preceded Perrin’s arrival. “Astrea, would you go and help Dorna with her shifting? She is not yet so proficient as you are.”

For a moment Astrea only glared up at the instructor. But then she rose and went towards the back of the room, giving no answer aloud. Perrin settled down onto the bench beside Ebon, making it groan and crackle in protest.

“I know you mean well, Ebon. But you must leave off trying to convince Astrea of Isra’s evil. Remember, Isra was like a sister to her.”

“Yes, but Isra is also an abomination,” said Ebon. “Is it not important that she knows that?”

Perrin sighed. “Is it? Imagine yourself in her shoes. Imagine your kin were dark figures who committed dark deeds, and you were but a child—not nearly a man grown, as you are now. Would it help you to know of the evil things they did in the shadows? Or would you be a happier child in ignorance?”

She fixed him with a look, and Ebon felt as though the ground had vanished beneath him. For of course, he did come from a dark family, and he had been ignorant of it when he was Astrea’s age. He tried to imagine knowing the truth about his father, and Mako, and yes, even Halab, and the things she sometimes ordered Mako to do, when he had seen only eleven years. Would it would have made him happier.

He knew at once that it would not.

“But … but this is different,” he said. “I mean, this is not quite what you describe. Isra’s darkness is not hidden. She wears her evil like a cloak for all to see.”

“You cannot think of it that way. Astrea certainly does not. Remember, she has grown up with tales of Isra’s suffering, knowing of the great injustice done to Isra’s parents. You have heard the tale.”

Ebon stared at his fingers. The way Isra’s parents had been killed still made his gorge rise. “I have.”

“None would call that anything but a grave evil. That is the Isra that Astrea knows, and has heard about since she was a little girl—an even littler girl, I mean. And so, naturally, no matter what she hears of Isra now, she will only see this as another great injustice, something suffered but not deserved.”

“But it is not,” Ebon said helplessly.

“But she is eleven,” said Perrin. “Do not hold her to the same standards you expect of yourself. You are a man grown. Astrea is still a child. It is the job of elders—not just parents—to keep children from the burdens of adulthood, and Astrea is overburdened already.”

Perrin pushed back and stood, the bench moaning in relief. She strode off towards the next student with a hand raised, leaning down to resume another lesson. And Ebon stared at the wooden rod before him, though he did not see it, or anything else at all.

sixteen

LILITH [5]

That afternoon, Lilith came to their place in the library. Ebon saw her almost the moment she reached the third floor, for he sat where he could see down the long walkway that led to the stairs. She walked slowly, hesitantly, as though she were afraid of being spotted. When at last she reached them, she stood two paces off, hands fidgeting with each other, looking awkwardly between the three of them.

“Come, sit,” said Theren. She stood and waved Lilith into the armchair where she had been sitting, then ran to fetch another.

“Thank you,” said Lilith, setting herself carefully down. As Theren found her seat, Lilith looked from Ebon to Kalem. A halfhearted smile stole across her lips. “Never did I think to be sitting and conversing with the three of you here, in your own little corner.”

Ebon’s eyebrows raised. “It is hardly ours.”

Lilith waved a hand. “Do not be daft. Nearly everyone in the Academy knows this as your place, and that the three of you may be found here every afternoon.”

Kalem’s eyes widened, and he looked to Ebon. Ebon was just as surprised to hear they had any sort of reputation in the Academy.

“We will not keep you long,” said Theren. “We need to ask you something—something we could not discuss in the dining hall. It has to do with magestones.”

Lilith’s eyes darkened. She crossed one leg over the other. “What of them? I know very little.”

“We think we may use them to find Isra,” said Ebon. “You could not find out if anyone in your family is colluding with her. But we know she has magestones. If we can find the movements of the magestones, we may be able to follow them right to her.”