Korina grinned quietly to herself as she left the dining hall, fingering the iron key in her hand. Its metal felt cold to her touch, very much like the medallion she wore hidden beneath her robes, the medallion that marked her for what she was. Thought of the object brought her hand unbidden to her chest and she reached up to caress the solid lump protruding from the cloth. Immediately, she berated herself. No undue notice, she thought. Not a single sign.
Her thoughts turned to that little jar of Morcallenon’s. It had seemed such a simple thing when she had first walked into the room; she had almost taken no notice of it. Now she knew it may very well have been the center of debate for Ambrisia and her cronies. She had heard little of the conversation at the table, save for some eulogies offered up for that pathetic philosopher Aristoceles, so she was uncertain how much the council knew. In all likelihood, the council knew very little. The sigils on that jar weren’t exactly in any of their fields. They weren’t in her field either, but she did have at least one book on them. No, make that two, she thought.
Again, she grinned, musing over how the council would have responded if she had told them what they possessed. The shocked horror and inevitable dread would have been a welcome change from their usual arrogance. Of course, imparting her knowledge to the council would ultimately have led to her expulsion from the guild, and probably even her execution. Needless to say, she felt little remorse about leaving them in the dark.
Korina rounded the final corner before Ambrisia’s chambers and nodded to Marissa as she entered the meditation room. The elder apprentice reclined on a soft sofa pushed against the far wall, absorbed in a book on earth shaping. It was a simple work, Korina knew; she had extracted all there was from it months ago, but Marissa’s talents fell far short of hers.
“Greetings, Marissa. What are you reading?” Korina asked, with a false smile. She did not like the woman, but she was quite adept at presenting a second face.
Marissa, looking up, responded, “Oh, it’s the most fascinating thing ... It’s all about earth shaping, you know—molding the stones and whatnot. Parts of it are a little tricky, but I can handle it. What are you up to?”
“Me? I’m just getting some books for the novice class. Ambrisia had an important meeting so she set me and Durek on this evening’s lesson.” Korina straightened, beaming with a practiced air of pride. She didn’t give a whit about the class or the lesson, but one must do what one must. She needed the guild’s formal training; to that end, she was willing to suffer through almost anything.
“Durek? You’re teaching a class with Durek?” Marissa’s eyes lit up with obvious interest. “You’re so lucky. He’s very handsome.”
“Now Marissa,” Korina said in a mocking reprimand, “you know better than that. We’re to be mages ... you don’t have time to go worrying about men and their charms. It is forbidden, after all.”
“I know,” she said wistfully, “but sometimes ... I just wonder ...”
Korina frowned at the woman. “Don’t let Ambrisia catch you acting like that or she’ll set you to task…” She wondered how the woman had been ever accepted to the guild in the first place, even if she was, as rumour claimed, Mage Toreg’s cousin. Every mage, no matter the bloodline, had to pass the final test. And failure often meant death. Korina saw few prospects for Marissa when her time inevitably came.
Korina stepped toward Ambrisia’s private study, inserted the key in the lock, and gave it a sharp twist. The lock snapped open and the door swung wide. With a purposeful stride, she moved into the study, swinging the door shut behind her. To her right, a long, many-shelved bookcase held a vast array of books dealing with topics both common and rare. She scanned the titles of the texts and wondered briefly why Ambrisia kept such mundane books on hand, many of them seeming to be on nothing more than history—who cared about the past? If she had a study like this, she would fill it with nothing but texts on magic. No wasted space on philosophy, or history, or any other irrelevant discipline.
At last she spotted the section on earthcraft against the far wall. Moving over to the bookcase, she began searching for the required texts. Despite the collection of mundane writings in the rest of the room, Ambrisia’s store of texts on earthcraft was more than adequate, impressive even. The books filled six whole shelves nearly eight paces in length. Korina would have given anything to have free access to a library like this.
“Give?” she said out loud, chuckling, “More like take.” She glanced briefly at the door sealing her from the room beyond and Marissa with her studies. “You want to learn about earth shaping, dear. Watch a master at her work,” she murmured. She knelt down on one knee and closed her eyes in concentration. Holding the iron key in her left hand she began a slow chant, humming softly to herself. Moments passed, and then a pale blue light coalesced around her opposing hand. She opened her eyes and reached down through the stone floor, her hand passing through rock as if it were nothing more than water. With her arm submerged up to her elbow she moved as if to grab something. Then, using great care, she withdrew her arm and extracted a hand sized chunk of rock. Resting on both knees, she brought both rock and key before her, extended at arms’ length. For long minutes she stared at the objects, her brow furrowing in concentration. At first, nothing happened. Then the rock slowly began to change.
It squirmed and twisted in her hand as if possessed of its own life. A loop appeared at one end as the rock shivered, writhing in her grasp. Soft undulations rippled down its length, and the end grew longer and narrower, twisting out into a convoluted edge at the point opposite the loop. When it was finished, Korina breathed a sigh of relief and released her spell. She stared at the two keys before her, one of iron the other of stone, then pursed her lips. “Now I can come and go as I please,” she said. “Thank you, Ambrisia, for collecting such a fine library of magic for me.” Korina rose, pocketed the stone key, and turned to the wall of books. After a few moments of searching she picked the three texts she required and headed for the door.
“Whew,” she said, as Marissa looked up. “Those were a lot harder to find than I thought. I was afraid I might be in there all night.” She started toward the exit.
“Good bye, Korina,” Marissa said, as she passed. “Oh, and give greeting to Durek for me, please.”
“All right,” Korina said, closing the door behind her. Dolt, she thought and then headed down the hall.
Drasmyr (Prequel: From the Ashes of Ruin) Page 10