The Firemage's Vengeance (24 page)

Astrea looked down at her shoes. “That is an ill thing.”

“We do not always get to say good-bye,” said Ebon. “And in truth, I know it does not matter. If I had seen his body, or been there when they burned it, he would not have heard my farewell. Sky above, even if I had been there when he passed, and we had whispered our parting to each other, nothing would have changed. He would still be gone, and I would still be here. Yet mayhap the pain would not be so great. I like to believe it would not.”

Then he looked at her carefully. “What of you, Astrea? Do you wish to say your farewell? I could ask for it, and I doubt any instructor would refuse you. Not even the Dean.”

For the first time he saw tears in her eyes, though she was quick to blink them away. She shook her head quickly. “No. You wish you could have spent less time in mourning, do you not? Mayhap seeing your brother would have helped you. But I do not think that seeing Isra would help me. Rather, it would make things worse. You had no choice in the matter—but I do.”

He nodded. “Very well. Your words are wise beyond your years—but then, that is no great surprise to those of us who must suffer in class beside you, always overshadowed by your wit.”

She glanced at him, and he gave her a sad smile. She did not return it, but her eyes softened, and she shook her head disdainfully.

“Do not be an idiot, Ebon.”

“As well tell the sun not to shine—and we know already that that is futile. Will you walk with me?”

“If you want me to,” she said. But he could hear the gratitude that lay beneath her words, and she leapt up to follow him with surprising eagerness. And the day’s beauty no longer seemed so offensive as they strolled along.

twenty-nine

LILITH [15]

The midday meal passed silently for Ebon and his friends, for they did not find themselves much in the mood for talking. Together they made their way through the halls towards the library, and wordlessly climbed the stairs to their nook on the third level.

As they reached their armchairs, Ebon saw a note resting upon one of them—the one upon which he usually sat. It was only a brief scrawl:
Come to Leven’s tavern tonight.

Ebon looked it over, and then met the eyes of his friends. “It must be from Mako.”

“Truly? Do you think so?” said Theren in mock surprise, her eyes wide.

Soft footsteps made them fall silent, and they turned to look behind them. Ebon froze where he stood. It was Lilith, hands tucked into her sleeves, eyes shifting uneasily as she tried to avoid their gazes.

“Good day,” she said quietly.

For a moment no one answered her, nor even moved. Then, Ebon and Theren had the same thought at the same time, and both leapt towards his armchair to turn it about. But they ran into each other instead, and both stepped back awkwardly.

“I will—no, I will fetch another,” said Theren quickly.

“Of course. Here,” said Ebon, waving Lilith down into the chair.

She took her seat, still not meeting his eyes, while Theren fetched another armchair and placed it beside Lilith’s. But she sat in it instead of offering it to Ebon, and so he was forced to take her armchair instead. Kalem had stood in silence, gawking at the proceedings with wide eyes, and it was only after all the other three had seated themselves that he started, as if waking from a dream, and took his own chair.

For a long moment, silence reigned as they all looked at Lilith in the lamplight, and she tried to avoid looking back at them.

“Where is Nella?” said Ebon, desperate to break the stiffness that had settled over them like a sheet of ice.

“We have opposite study schedules,” said Lilith.

“Ah.”

Again, a long quiet stretched. Ebon’s fingers drummed on the arms of his chair.

At last Lilith cleared her throat. “Well,” she said quietly. “I suppose there is no use trying to pretend that this is not very strange for all of us.”

Theren let out a hysterical bark of laughter, too loud and too high, and then fell silent. Ebon quashed a snicker. Kalem only frowned. “Did you … and understand that I do not mean you are not welcome. But did you come to us for any particular purpose?”

Lilith nodded. “I had heard what happened to Isra,” she said. “Is it true that the three of you saw her corpse?”

Ebon met eyes with his friends, hoping they all knew better than to say anything of the events that had transpired the night before. “We did,” he said.

“Is it true she is long dead?” said Lilith. “That is what the rumors are saying.”

“That is true,” said Ebon. “Though we are not sure how.”

“Because you saw her living less than two weeks ago,” said Lilith, nodding. “How can that be?”

“We have an idea,” said Theren, sitting up.

“Theren,” said Ebon.

She glared. “Lilith has not betrayed our trust thus far, Ebon. And mayhap she will have an idea for how Isra did it, that we have not yet thought of.” Lilith leaned forwards to listen, and Theren went on. “I have never heard of magic that could do something of this sort. My first thought was therianthropy, but if the corpse were a weremage, it would not look like Isra—”

“—and if it had been a weremage in the kitchens, they would not have had mindmagic to battle me,” said Lilith.

Theren slumped in her chair. “That is just what we said.”

Lilith frowned, looking into her lap. For a moment Ebon hoped beyond hope that she would, in fact, know how such a feat might be accomplished. But when she lifted her gaze, she only shook her head. “I have no idea how it might have been done. I am sorry.”

“It is hardly your fault,” said Theren with a small smile. Lilith returned it. Kalem grimaced.

A thought struck Ebon, and he worked it around until he had thought of a question that seemed to pose no danger. “Lilith … have you heard aught of Gregor since last we sought him out?”

Lilith’s mood darkened, and she shook her head. “I have not … not exactly, anyway. But something happened upon the Seat just last night. A fear has spread throughout my family again, just as it did when the Seat was attacked, and the High King suspected us of being complicit. Now our terror is not so great, but it has certainly returned. I will try to reach out to Farah again, and see if she knows what happened.”

“And we will ask Mako,” said Theren, giving Ebon a meaningful look. He thought he understood—they must keep up appearances that they knew no more than Lilith did.

“Will you see him soon?” said Lilith. “Mayhap I should come. We could pool our knowledge.”

“No,” said Theren at once.

Lilith frowned. “I do not mean to—”

Theren shook her head. “You are not the one who worries me. Mako would not be pleased to see you. You have been through enough already, and I would not bring you within arm’s reach of that man, not for all the gold upon the High King’s Seat.”

That made Lilith subside, and she gave Theren a wry smile. “Are you certain? I wonder if you know how much gold that would be. It is a large amount. I myself would not hesitate to have a meal with Mako, if I could get my hands upon it.”

Theren smirked. “You goldbags. Your coffers overflow, and yet always you seek more.”

Lilith giggled, and it was a sound so foreign that Ebon froze in amazement. She stood then, and brushed at her robes.

“I should be going,” she said. “I have intruded upon your time long enough.”

“It was no intrusion,” said Theren. “You could stay if you wish.”

“I … I have studies,” said Lilith, looking down in embarrassment. “Jia requires a dissertation from me. Perhaps another time.”

She stepped out between the armchairs—but as she did, Theren raised a hand, and Lilith took it on instinct. They held each other only a moment, but their fingers dragged against each other as they parted, as though reluctant to let go.

MAKO [15]

That night, the streets of the city seemed filled with a heightened tension–or perhaps it was only the fear in the hearts of Ebon and his friends that made it seem so. Oddly, Ebon was calmest of them all. Mayhap it was because he had faced so much danger already that he was growing inured to it.

They breathed a heavy sigh of relief when they caught sight of Leven’s tavern. Together they entered as quickly as they could, and tramped the snow off their boots in the doorway.

At the bar stood a broad man hidden beneath a black cloak, his hood drawn up. He turned at the sound of their entrance, though no one else seemed to pay them any mind. Ebon saw the flash of Mako’s eyes beneath the cowl. He came to join them at their customary table, a bottle of wine in one hand and four cups clutched in the other.

He wasted no time on pleasantries. “Darkness take this mindmage bitch,” he growled. Theren sat up straighter, but he only sneered. “Not you. I mean Isra. I can find no trace of her.”

“No trace but the corpse, you mean,” said Kalem.

“Which we already know is not hers,” said Mako, growing angrier still. “I can deceive the eye when I wish, and remain unseen when I must. But even I cannot conjure my own corpse out of thin air, nor hide from every prying eye upon the Seat. When at last I get my hands on her, I will flay her slow just for the inconvenience she has caused me.”

“Is it possible you are jealous?” said Theren lightly. “You seem frankly obsessed with her skill at deception, Mako.”

The way the bodyguard’s jaw clenched, Ebon feared he might lash out at her. But he only tightened his fist around his cup until Ebon could hear its wood squeaking.

“I find her cunning as troubling as you do, no doubt,” said Ebon. “But we have another problem. We told the faculty that we saw her in the kitchens, and so the three of us have fallen under suspicion. I worry what that will mean for us, though of course we are innocent when it comes to Isra.”

“Innocent?” said Mako with a cruel grin. “That is an odd word for it, and not one I would choose.”

“We did not kill her, is what he means,” said Kalem, as Ebon flushed and lowered his gaze.

“Well, only catching her will prove that,” said Theren.

Mako pounded a fist on the table. “Yet that seems impossible, though our watch upon the Academy has been ceaseless, except for last night when I summoned my fighters to the sewers—but we know she did not infiltrate the Academy last night, for we saw her below. She is not in any of the Yerrins’ usual hiding spots, and she is nowhere else upon the Seat, for I have eyes in every cranny.”

“Mayhap she has used mindwyrd to send false tales to you?” said Ebon. “One of your spies might have seen her, but been charmed into telling you they had not.”

Mako’s eyes rolled so far back that Ebon thought the bodyguard might faint. “Oh, how clever of you to think of such a thing, Ebon. If only I had thought of that immediately, and taken precautions to prevent it. You should be the family’s master of spies, and not I.”

Theren leaned over. “I believe he means to say that he has taken precautions against such a ruse.”

Ebon scowled into his drink. “It was only a suggestion.”

“I do not need your suggestions,” said Mako. “I need your lover.”

A chill stole up Ebon’s spine, freezing him in place. He glared at Mako. “Do not speak of her to me. She has nothing to do with this.”

“Not yet,” said Mako, glaring right back. “But she must, or we are lost. Go to her. Tell her we need help beyond our own means.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“To you? Nothing.” Mako threw back his cup of wine and stood. “But the words will carry weight with her. Send them along, little Ebon. Go tomorrow night—I and mine will watch your path along the streets and ensure you come to no harm. Send word to me afterwards, as soon as you can.”

He walked to the door and vanished into the night. Kalem and Theren stared at Ebon in wonder.

“What was that about?” said Theren.

Ebon said nothing, but only stared into his wine, his heart thundering with fear.

thirty

ADARA [16]

Ebon woke with guilt roiling in his gut.

After seeing Mako, he had wrestled long into the night with his feelings. The last thing he wanted was to involve Adara again. His kin had brought her enough dangers already, and though she always reassured him that her contacts in the Guild of Lovers would not betray her, still he worried. Though he did not understand the message he was supposed to relay, he did not doubt he would feel even more uncomfortable about it if he did.

His thoughts were in turmoil all morning. But at last, just before the bell rang for breakfast, he fetched parchment and a quill and scribbled a note to Adara, sending it along with Mellie at the front door. Isra’s corpse still lay in the Academy, and the investigation would not stop simply because he wished it to. If they did not find Isra, surely it would only be a matter of time before the faculty found out about the amulet, and then they were all lost.

The day’s studies went by in a blur. Ebon managed to keep up appearances well enough that Perrin did not bark at him for his wandering attention, and of course Kalem and Theren mostly left him alone in the library, for their thoughts were just as preoccupied. After dinner he set off into the streets for the second day in a row, but this time alone. He looked all about him, hoping to catch a glimpse of a black-clad assassin haunting his steps. But he saw nothing, and wondered if that should make him feel better or worse.