The Mindmage's Wrath: A Book of Underrealm (The Academy Journals 2) (20 page)

Ebon’s stomach lurched, and he spoke soft but urgent. “Adara, that may be folly. If anyone were to learn of your prying ...”

“They will not,” she said, raising an eyebrow and smirking, as though Ebon were both very sweet and very foolish. “The guild looks after its own. In any case, I have learned nothing certain about the theft. Though I have heard many other whispers. It seems there is a girl skulking about the Seat. She wears black robes, like a student of the Academy.”

Theren looked at Ebon. “A girl? What did she look like?”

Adara shrugged. “No one has gotten close enough to see. But she has spent much time around the northern end of the Seat, and after curfew.”

Ebon raised an eyebrow at Theren. “That sounds like something you might do, Theren.”

She frowned. “I told you, since the attack I have been unable to sneak out, for the sheds to help me are gone. And besides, I have no business in the north. It could be Lilith.”

Kalem sighed. Ebon shook his head. “But for what purpose, Theren? If you think she is the thief, why would she spend time in the city?”

Theren glared, but had no answer. Adara quickly went on to fill the silence. “Whoever she might be, she is only one of the figures now skulking in shadows. Ebon, your family’s man, Mako, has been poking his nose all about the island.”

Ebon shrugged. “That is nothing unusual for him, and bothers me not.”

“It should, for his activities have greatly increased,” said Adara. “His heart is as dark as a sky without moons. Do not trust him.”

“Mako warned me the day the Seat was attacked, and that saved our lives,” said Ebon, somewhat surprised to find himself defending the bodyguard. “If he is crafty, and somewhat caustic-tongued, that does not mean he is rotten through.”

“The deepest rot is the hardest to see,” said Adara. “I do not mean to tell you what you should do—only that you should be careful.”

Gently she touched his cheek, and his irritation faded. Theren smirked and shook her head, but Kalem lowered his eyes and flushed with embarrassment. Ebon gave him a pat on the shoulder. “There there, little lordling. You will soon be a man grown, and may yet become used to those who do not hide their affections.”

“I did not think my presence would cause you such discomfort, Kalem.” Though she had been easy enough twice before, now it seemed to Ebon that he heard annoyance in Adara’s tone. “I know Hedgemond is no place like the Seat, or Idris where Ebon and I hail from—yet I had not thought it so bashful a kingdom as you make it out to be.”

“It is not that,” mumbled Kalem. “It is ... it is only that ... well, you are very ... very pretty, and ... womanly.”

Adara’s irritation vanished at once. She laughed lightly, spurring Ebon to chuckle. “I shall take that as a high compliment, good sir, since I know that many fair ladies must have visited the courts of your family. Have I perhaps taken for discomfort what was, in fact, curiosity? If you should ever wish to step beyond the blue door, I am well familiar with the lovers in the various houses upon the Seat. I assure you I could find a suitable partner from among them.”
 

Kalem’s face went beet-red. “I ... I thank you for the offer, but no. I do not think I would enjoy such a thing.”

“I must heartily disagree,” said Ebon. “I myself found it most enjoyable.” Adara smiled, and placed her hand on his thigh beneath the table.

“Oh, I am certain it would be a pleasure,” said Kalem. The red of his face deepened as he heard his own double meaning. “But ... I have a hope that one day I will find one whom I love, and that my first tryst might be with her. I do not wish the one without the other, if you understand me.”

“I do indeed,” said Adara softly. “And I praise you for knowing your own mind so well. It is not common, especially among men so young, if you will forgive me for saying so. Many never think upon what they truly want, and such a thing always leads to tears. For many, love is a necessary part of intimacy. For others, the two are close friends, often present together, but not always. It is better to know which is true for you, before engaging in either.”

Kalem bowed his head and said nothing. Theren leaned away in her chair, throwing an arm over its back. “I myself have always known which was which. To my mind, anyone who thinks they are one and the same is a fool.” She gave Ebon a hard look, and he glared back.

But Adara only cocked her head. “I do not know if that is true.”

As if to prove Theren wrong, Ebon reached down to where Adara’s hand rested in his lap, and scooped it up in his own. Without thinking, she laced her fingers through his, and he kissed the back of her palm. “I think that a night in bed may not always be a night in love,” he said softly. “And yet, sometimes, one may lead to the other, so that love springs forth unbidden.”

The words sounded foolish in his own ears as he said them, and he half expected to receive one of Adara’s sharp, exasperated looks. But she smiled instead, a soft and gentle smile, hinting at nothing, promising so much. He had never known how much hidden meaning was in her eyes until then, when he saw it all removed, and could peer deep into her heart for the first time: pure and unadorned and revealed at last.

She leaned in close, and in a murmur so low only he could hear it, said, “Sometimes love springs forth indeed.”

Lover’s words,
came the whisper in his mind. But he could not stop the thrill in his heart.

twenty-one

The rest of their dinner passed light and fair, and after they finished eating Kalem returned to the Academy with Theren. But Ebon and Adara stepped beyond the blue door, and he lingered there longer than he should have, so that by the time he returned to the streets he had to hurry home for fear of missing curfew. Upon a time that would not have troubled him, but now the Academy was strict about such things, and besides, he was still closely watched after his adventure in the vaults.

He was only a few streets away when the sun vanished behind the western buildings, and he picked up his pace, intent on reaching the Academy before dark. But as he cut through an alley between two busy thoroughfares, a hand swept from the shadows and dragged him towards the wall. The hand clamped over his mouth, silencing his sharp and sudden cry. His every muscle tensed as he readied himself to fight, to cast a spell, to do something—but then he recognized Mako and scrabbled to drag the bodyguard’s hand away from his mouth.

“There are other ways to get my attention,” he groused. “You frightened me half to death.”

But then he paused, for Mako was looking all about him, peering over both shoulders as though expecting to see someone lurking, waiting to strike at them both. A
crack
around the corner made the man jump, though Ebon recognized it as the sound of a barrel falling from a cart. This was so unlike Mako’s usual conduct that Ebon was shocked into silence.

“I have found something most interesting, little goldshitter. But we must act quickly if we are to take advantage of it.”

Ebon frowned. “What is it? What did you find?”

“You know I have my ways in and out of the Academy—ways that allow me to pass through the citadel unseen, to visit you, and to see what may be transpiring within its walls.”

“I do, though I know not how, exactly.”

“Nor should you.” Mako smiled for the first time, and Ebon found that strangely comforting. “Some knowledge is dangerous for others to have. Suffice it to say my pathways take me through nooks of the Academy that are seldom seen. Yet it seems one such nook has been visited by another.”

His fingers fished in a pocket on his black leather vest, and from it he drew a piece of parchment. This he unfolded and held before Ebon.

“Do you recognize this?”

Ebon frowned—but only for a moment before his eyes shot wide with shock. It was a page torn from a vault logbook. From the yellowed edges, and the fact that the paper had been torn out, Ebon would have wagered it came from the same logbook they had found in the library, where they had learned of Kekhit’s amulet.

“Where did you get this?”

Mako cuffed his ear and snarled, “I told you, in one of the Academy’s hidden passages. You are not seeing what is important. Look again.”

Ebon scanned the page. It described an orb of unknown origin and terrible destructive power. A mindmage could speak a word of power, and the orb would erupt in raw energy, killing all nearby. But then he saw what Mako wanted him to see: words in red ink, drawn near the bottom of the page and underlined twice.

30 Febris

He stared at it for a moment. “The Eve of Yearsend. What do you mean for me to see about it? It is today’s—”

Realization struck him like a hammer blow, and his knees went weak. Mako saw it. His grin widened and turned cruel.

“You see it now, do you not, goldshitter?”

Ebon snatched the page and threw the bodyguard’s hand from where it held his shoulder against the wall. He began to sprint from the alley towards the Academy, but Mako seized his shoulder and dragged him back around.

“Let me go! I must warn them!”

“Warn who? Think, boy. What do you mean to do with what we know?”

Ebon blinked at him. “Catch Lilith, of course.”

“But catch her doing what, exactly? Show your instructors now, and doubtless they will post guards around the vault. Lilith’s name is not on that page. As it stands, she is blameless. You will not prove her guilt unless you find her with this orb afterward, for now you know what you are seeking.”

Ebon shook his head at once. “No. I will not let her steal it. I must catch her in the act. Last time, an instructor lost his life, and there is every reason to believe that may happen again.”

Mako frowned, but he must have seen the resolution in Ebon’s eyes. “Very well. Hurry then, goldbag, and pray you are not too late. I have heard no tumult in the Academy yet, so there may still be hope. But where will you say you found this page?”

“I know not,” said Ebon, wanting to run. Even now he was wasting precious time. “Where did
you
find it?”

Mako shook his head. “A fine attempt, but I am not so easily fooled. Say you found it under a hedge in the garden. Here.” He took the page, dropped it under his boot, and mushed it about with his heel. It came up grimy and torn in the corner. “That will help the lie. Now go!”

Ebon turned and sprinted for the Academy’s front door.

Ebon’s shoes pounded on the stone floors of the hallways, and the slapping sound ran on ahead of him, echoing all around so that it sounded as though an army ran beside him.

But no. No army. Only me, and mayhap too late.

At first he thought to make for the vaults, to catch Lilith himself, but almost at once he realized the folly of such a plan. She might have Kekhit’s amulet, and therefore power beyond reckoning—but even at her weakest, she was far more than Ebon’s match. So he ran instead for the instructors’ offices.

Halfway there, he rounded a corner and nearly ran into Theren. Eyes wide, she opened her mouth to ask him a question. “No time!” he cried, wheezing and short of breath, and ran on. She caught up a moment later, running by his side.

“Where are you going?”

“Jia. Lilith is about to strike.”

Her eyes narrowed as she doubled her pace. She reached Jia’s office before he did, and threw open the door for him. They practically fell in across the doorstep. He thanked the sky above, for Jia was there at her desk with Dasko. Both instructors looked at them wide-eyed in shock.

“What is the matter?” said Jia.

“Instructor,” said Ebon, wheezing as he thrust forth the logbook page. A fit of coughing claimed him, but he choked out his words. “I found this. The vault thief—they mean to strike again. Tonight.”

He thought she might look alarmed, or mayhap frightened, but she glared at him instead. “Ebon, you were specifically warned to stay out of—”

“No!” cried Ebon. “I found this in the gardens by chance, I swear it. Just look, Instructor!”

Dasko had taken the page from Ebon, his eyes scanning the text. He took Jia’s arm, and she met his eyes. For half a moment they stared at each other, Ebon nearly holding his breath.

A blast rocked the Academy, thundering through the halls. A chorus of screams followed it.

Jia and Dasko fled the room, forgetting all about Ebon, who followed at once. On he ran, though Jia screamed at them to stay back, to return to their dormitories. On, past the students who stood mute and terrified, torn between curiosity at the commotion and fear of another attack, and mayhap a corpse awaiting them all. On, with Theren beside him saying “Not again, not again, sky above, please,” a terrible whimper made all the worse coming from her.

Another boom rocked the hallways, and more screams told them which way to go—though of course they did not need guidance, for they knew the tumult would be in the vaults. Just before they rounded the corner and reached the entrance, Jia and Dasko’s eyes glowed white, and the two wizards transformed. Jia’s robes sank into her flesh, and hair sprouted all over her body as she turned into a massive bear, its head nearly striking the ceiling. Dasko had become a beast of the far northern jungles, a catlike beast with a huge mane of golden fur. Together they roared, loud and terrifying enough to make Ebon’s heart skip a beat. Almost he stopped in his tracks, for his limbs had seized up, but he forced himself onward. Theren had not abandoned the chase, and her eyes glowed as she reached for her magic. He would not abandon his friend, nor his instructors, though he did not know what he might do to help.