Authors: Erik Buchanan
“And even if he did, it’s not like Liam and Jonathan would go with him,” said Wilson.
“We haven’t done a full search,” said Marcus. “I mean, it’s a big city and they could be anywhere in it.”
“If Charles was in the city, he wouldn’t be missing class,” said James.
“What if he’s dead in an alley?” said Mark.
“Him and Liam and Jonathan?”
“It’s possible.”
“It’s not likely!”
“Well, then where are they?”
“The Church,” said Thomas.
There was silence until Marcus said, “They’ve gone to church?”
Thomas looked around the tavern. If things were got loud they were certain to be overheard, and Thomas was pretty sure things were going to get loud, “Let’s get a private room.”
Once they were all in, Thomas told them about the Archbishop’s visit, and the offer that came with it. He watched their faces grow hard and angry.
“So, what?” asked Marcus. “Churchmen just grabbed them off the street?”
“It’s what they did to Thomas,” said Eileen. “Remember?”
“I don’t understand,” said Evan. “You just said he was going to give you time. Why would they come after us?” Evan’s eyes went wide. “What if they hang them for witchcraft?”
“They won’t,” said Thomas, trying to sound as certain as possible. “They’ll use them as witnesses against me.”
“If the Church wants you, why don’t they just take you?”
Because the king told them not to.
Thomas didn’t say the words out loud because it didn’t make sense.
They didn’t care before. Why would they care now?
“Will you take the Archbishop’s offer if it means they don’t kill Charles?” asked Philip. “Or Liam or Jonathan?”
The room fell silent. Thomas looked down at his drink and didn’t say anything.
“They’re your friends!” Evan stood up, furious. “By the Four, Thomas, you need to help them!”
“I know!” said Thomas. “We need proof.”
“What? You just said…!”
“I know what I said!” Thomas shoved himself to his feet. “We have no
proof!
If the Church took them, it means they’re acting against the instructions of the king, which means they’ll deny everything.”
“So what do we do?” demanded Evan. “Leave them there to rot?”
“We have to go to the Headmaster,” said Philip. “We have to tell him what happened.”
“What we
think
happened,” said Thomas. He thought fast. “All right. Check all their apartments in the morning. If they’re not there, I’ll go to the Headmaster and I’ll tell him that they’re missing and what I suspect.”
And I’ll tell Sir Walter first.
“At the very least the Headmaster can ask around, and he’s more likely to get answers than us.”
“And if he doesn’t?” demanded Evan. “Then what do we do?”
“We think of something else,” said Thomas.
“Like what?” demanded Evan.
“I don’t know!” snapped Thomas. “Give me some time. And until we find them, stick together. Don’t go anywhere alone or unarmed. And don’t take any risks.”
“You think they’ll come after more of us?” Marcus said.
“I didn’t think they’d come after anyone,” said Thomas.
Not after the king’s warning; not after what the Archbishop said.
“But if they went after Charles and Liam and Jonathan, then there’s nothing to stop them coming after all of us.”
“They should have just come after you, if they wanted you,” muttered Evan.
“Yes,” agreed Thomas, “they should have.”
12
Thomas never slept well when he was worried. He spent most of the remaining night trying to study and then lay in the bed, staring up at the ceiling until the early hours of the morning. When his eyes finally shut, he was haunted by dreams of battle, blood and fire. And through them all the Archbishop loomed in the background, frowning at Thomas like the entire thing was his fault.
But it isn’t,
was Thomas’s first thought as he woke up.
I didn’t start it.
He dragged himself out of bed on the first bell of the morning and stumbled to the fencing hall with his eyes half-open. Even the chill, wet weather did little to help wake him. He found Sir Walter already on the floor with a practice blade in his hand.
“You look much the worse for wear,” said Sir Walter. “Had too much fun after yesterday’s almost-duels?”
Of course he knows about that.
“Three of the Student Company are missing.”
Sir Walter’s eyebrows went up. “Really? Since when?”
“Charles has been missing since Festival. Liam and Jonathan vanished yesterday.”
“And?”
“And I think the Church has them.”
Sir Walter frowned. “I thought the Archbishop was giving you time to think about it.”
“He said he was,” said Thomas. “But I don’t know who else would want them.”
“If the Church has them, he’s going directly against the king’s orders,” said Sir Walter. “Do you have proof?”
Thomas shook his head. “No, sir.”
Sir Walter rubbed his chin as he thought about it. “I’ll look into it,” he said at last. “Any luck finding the magicians?”
“I might have something, but I’m not sure.”
“I see. When will you be sure?”
“Hopefully in the next two days,” said Thomas.
“Be more than hopeful,” said Sir Walter. “Be sure. What did the preachers say yesterday?”
“Uhh… I don’t recall.”
“Tomorrow, recall,” said Sir Walter. “I want a full report. Now, shall we fence?”
They did. And wrestled, boxed, fought with knives and practiced moving silently. By the end, Thomas had learned several new tricks and had a host of new bruises from them. Sir Walter ended the class with a lecture on how to follow someone without being seen, then made Thomas try it as they left the fencing school. Two blocks later he told Thomas he needed practice and left.
Thomas stood in the street, watching the man go. He didn’t want to go to class at all. He just wanted to crawl back into his bed. Instead, he scrubbed his face with his hands to force back his exhaustion and went to get Henry and Eileen.
The forge was blazing when Thomas and Henry got there. George was hammering out nails from the end of a flat piece of iron.
“You’re late,” said George as he knocked another nail off of the iron. “Eileen!”
“Right down!”
“She has company,” said George, glowering.
“Company?” repeated Thomas. “Who would…”
“I’m sure you’ll like it,” said Eileen over her shoulder as she came down the stairs. She pointed a finger at Henry and Thomas. “Why are you late?”
“Fencing,” Thomas began. “I…” He stopped, mouth hanging open, as Claudine came down the stairs behind Eileen, cradling a book.
“I can’t thank you enough,” said Claudine. “I haven’t read this one before.”
“You’re quite welcome,” said Eileen. She smiled at Thomas and Henry. “Claudine loaned me Rouldy’s treatise on the Forvishi philosophers.”
“That’s…” Thomas forced his brain to work, “very generous of you.”
“Not at all,” said Claudine. “Eileen and I share a love of books, and that should not be affected by how little you respect my father’s wishes. And speaking of that, my father would like to talk to you.”
“Oh.” Thomas looked around for some answer to that. “All right.”
“He’s in the Hammer and Steel,” said George. “They serve a good breakfast.”
“We realized yesterday that we didn’t have an address for you,” said Claudine. “And since I wanted to meet with Eileen again, and knew that her brother was a smith, I suggested we come here early and see if we could find the smithy which we did. And now, Master Flarety,” Claudine said the name with a fair bit of distaste, “would you be so kind as to follow me?”
They found Malcolm Bright sitting in the tavern, sipping tea and talking with a pair of older smiths. As soon as he spotted the four of them, he rose to his feet. “And here is my reason for coming here today, gentlemen,” said Malcolm. “Thank you both for your time, and I promise I will return to further discuss our business.”
The men rose, shook Malcolm’s hand and left. Malcolm followed them to the door so he could greet Thomas. “Good morning, gentlemen. And lady,” he said, with a short bow at Eileen. “My apologies for accosting your brother, Miss Gobhann.” His smile widened. “I may have managed to secure two new smiths to do work on my wagons and horses, so it has been a very profitable morning for me. Daughter, did you and Eileen have a chance to chat?”
“We did,” said Claudine. “And she had a book to loan me in exchange for mine!”
“Excellent! Now, why don’t we all have a seat. Can I offer you some tea?”
“No, thanks,” said Thomas. “We’re already running late, I’m afraid.”
“We won’t be long, I promise,” said Malcolm. He took them to a large table in the back, ordered breakfast for himself and his daughter, then extra pastries, “For you three to take to school.”
The five of them sat in silence after that. Malcolm did his best to look like he was enjoying his tea. Claudine refused to look at Thomas. Eileen looked impatient to be on her way, and Henry looked sublimely unconcerned.
Finally, Malcolm put down his cup and smiled at the three of them. “Thomas, I was hoping we could continue our discussion from two nights ago.”
“All right,” said Thomas, warily. “Continue it.”
Malcolm leaned close and dropped his voice. “Have you ever wondered what would happen if magic became common?”
“I don’t think it can,” said Thomas.
“The teachings of the Daughter are quite clear,” said Malcolm. “Magic is to be shared among all, for the betterment of all. Just think what could be achieved if we all had magic in us.”
“But we all don’t.”
“But we could.”
“How?”
Malcolm glanced around. The tavern was empty save for them, and the woman who took his order was nowhere in sight. When he spoke his voice was so low it was hard to hear. “Those are some of the most secret teachings of the Daughter.”
“Then why are you telling
me
?” asked Thomas. “I’m not a believer.”
“But you have magic!” interrupted Claudine. She clapped her hand over her mouth and her eyes darted back and forth. It would have been funny if they’d been talking about anything else. Claudine’s next words were whispers. “You do. Why won’t you help us?”
Malcolm put his hand on his daughter’s arm, and she fell silent. “Thomas, your magic could be the key to releasing the Daughter’s power and turning the tide against those who would destroy magic everywhere.”
Thomas frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s in the writings of the Daughter,” said Malcolm. “‘A magician will come, with great power, and open the doors of magic to the world. And all shall possess magic and none shall be without.’” Malcolm’s eyes became brighter, his voice fervent and passionate. “Once you’ve read them, then you will understand. Will you at least do that? Will you read the writings?”
“I will look at them,” said Thomas. “I can’t promise anything else, and I don’t think it will change anything.”
Unless there really is magic in the writings…
“But I will read the writings. Will that do?”
Malcolm nodded. “That will do.”
“We are at our apartment most evenings.” Thomas gave Malcolm the directions. “And now, we really have to be on our way.”
“Of course,” said Malcolm. “I am only sorry the pastries didn’t come in time.”
“We can wait for those,” said Henry, earning a glare from Thomas.
“It was very good talking to you today,” said Claudine to Eileen. “And may I call on you again? In two days, perhaps?”
“I would like that,” said Eileen. “I’ll try to have a good start on the Rouldy.”
“Excellent,” said Claudine. “And here are the pastries! Do have a wonderful day at the Academy, Eileen. And you Lord Henry.” She gave Thomas a glare. “Master Flarety.”
The pastries were warm and fresh and tasted especially good as the three walked through the cold streets toward the Academy.
“What do you think?” asked Henry.
“No idea,” said Thomas. “I’ve never seen any magic associated with the Daughter. Just bad poetry made to look like spells. But if there is something…”
“It would make the king very happy,” said Henry. “Speaking of which, are we going looking again tonight?”
“In a way,” said Thomas. “If you’ll both help me.”
“Of course,” said Eileen. “Where are we going?”
“I’ll explain this afternoon,” promised Thomas. “I’m glad you and Claudine get along.”
“Can I tell you how good it is to talk with another girl?” asked Eileen. “It’s a relief from all you boys.” She took Thomas’s hand. “Pity she doesn’t like you.”