by C. A. McHugh
It only pissed Ceryst off more. “Fine. If you want to talk about how safe the Academy is, then tell me everything you know about Seroney.”
“Why are you asking about her?” Binnius replied with the same amused inquisitiveness.
Raimel grabbed a handful of figs and popped one in his mouth. Snacks always made interrogations more fun. Then he sat cross-legged on the floor, eager to watch the exchange. For the past four days, Ceryst had been postulating all kinds of nonsense about the girl, and he was curious to discover how close to the mark the knight might have been.
Or how deep Ceryst’s paranoia really was.
Ceryst towered over the headmaster. “Because Aerrin intercepted a letter from her mother, and I’m not sure if I can call it enlightening or disturbing.”
“How so?”
“Let’s start with the fact that it appeared to be written in Elvish.”
If the news surprised Master Binnius in the least, he didn’t show it. The man was keen at hiding his reactions. With those kinds of skills, he’d make a killing playing cards if he wanted. “Are you certain it was that? After all, no one in our kingdom has written or read that language in over five centuries.”
“I saw the original letter, along with an ancient book that provided some of the translation. The script was identical.” Ceryst intensified his scowl in an attempt to intimidate the master mage. It didn’t work. “So unless both she and her mother are scholars of antiquities, then the most reasonable explanation is that Seroney is from the other side of the Divide.”
The teacup vanished in a puff of smoke, and Master Binnius calmly placed his hands in his lap, all while maintaining that same amused expression. “Are you suggesting I’d break the law and allow a foreigner into my Academy?”
Raimel stifled a cough. It wouldn’t be the first time Master Binnius had broken the law of the land to allow a student to attend the Academy. After all, he’d spent a year there under the headmaster’s private tutelage. And if a certain nosy master mage hadn’t discovered what he was, Raimel might even have made it to his master trials.
No use thinking about what might have been. Getting expelled led me back to the King of Thieves and equally useful training.
But to an upright, law-abiding prick like Ceryst, Master Binnius had committed a grave crime. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t convince Aerrin to arrest and question her.”
“Besides the fact she inadvertently saved your life?” He cocked his head. “Correction: perhaps it wasn’t entirely by accident since I’d asked for the antidote of the poison that afflicted you, and she readily gave it to me.”
The fury fell from Ceryst’s face for a split second, but he fixed it back once again to match the growl in his voice. “What else are you hiding, old man?”
“If I revealed all my secrets, then I risk endangering all our players in this game of cat and mouse with the Raven Bringer. It is for both your safety and the safety of my other associates that I purposely keep you in the dark. If you are captured, then you can honestly say you don’t know everything, even if given a truth serum.”
Once again, Master Binnius proved how wily he really was. The old man had played this game before, and he had learned from his mistakes. They all had.
“Is there anything I can tell you that would reassure you that she is not a threat?” Master Binnius asked with a hint of futility in his voice. “After all, if you’ve read the translation of her mother’s letter, you would know that she recently suffered the loss of a family member at the hands of one of the Raven Bringer’s followers.”
Ceryst stumbled back as though Master Binnius’s statement had been a violent shove.
“Yeah, the brawn without brains seems to have forgotten that,” Raimel said before tossing the last fig up into the air and catching it in his mouth.
And barely dodging the knight’s swinging fist.
“Don’t punish me for remembering what I read.” Raimel jumped to his feet and wiped the dust off the back of his pants. “For example, the letter also mentioned asking Master Binnius to attend the funeral, which would imply you are closely connected to the girl and her family.”
A shadow of sadness flickered across the headmaster’s eyes, and he nodded. “I have known Seroney since she was a child, and she is at the Academy at my request.”
“To do what?” Ceryst demanded.
“To protect Aerrin.” Master Binnius rose, and like the teacup, the chair vanished in a puff of pale blue smoke. “Would it relieve you know that she was the one who saved the lives of Aerrin and everyone in his traveling party tonight?”
The knight blinked several times in disbelief. “She’s just a girl.”
“Is she?” The twinkle of a trickster played in the old man’s blue eyes. “Despite her youthful appearance, Seroney is far older than she appears to be. And if you have any doubt as to her abilities, you can ask Aerrin what he witnessed tonight.”
Raimel darted forward, finally putting all the pieces together. “You mean to tell us you planted a master mage who’s pretending to be a student in order to protect Aerrin?”
“Did I?” Master Binnius’s grin widened. “Well, if I did, wouldn’t that be a genius idea?”
Before they could press him further, he vanished with a flash of blue magic.
Raimel turned to his best friend, not at all surprised by the dumbfounded expression on the knight’s face. “Happy now?”
Ceryst tightened his jaw so that the muscle rippled along the lower edge. His hands remained curled into fists. “No. I still want answers, and if I ever cross her path, I’ll pry them from her.”
Raimel rolled his eyes and threw up his hands with a groan of frustration. “Come on! The old man practically gave her cover away. She’s a master mage. She saved Aerrin’s life. She saved your life. What is your problem with her?”
“She’s not from here.” Ceryst stiffened and reached for the hilt of his sword. “And she’s still purposely deceiving Aerrin.”
“Yes, because if he found out she wasn’t really a student, he’d have her kicked out of the Academy, and then she wouldn’t be there to pull him out of trouble.” Raimel resisted the urge to shake some sense into the knight. Part of him wondered if the knight’s malice toward the mage wasn’t due in part to that fact she was fulfilling the duty he’d once held—protecting the king. “How many times did you and Brendon sneak around the master mages’ backs to get into trouble when you were at the Academy?”
Yes, it was an asinine thing to do, bringing up his dead best friend, but it got the point across. Ceryst closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled a sigh of grief. “Your point?”
“Continue the ruse for now. Master Binnius didn’t get to where he is today without being smarter than most of the idiots on the Privy Council. If Aerrin believes she’s just a student, then she has a better chance of following him around without raising too much suspicion and maybe saving the little snot’s life when there isn’t a master mage around.”
Ceryst opened his eyes to glare at him. “Don’t talk about your king that way.”
“Who said he’s my king?” Raimel replied with a crooked grin and held up the palm bearing the scar from his oath of allegiance to the King of Thieves. “And speaking of which, we should probably get out of Dromore before Fesser and his gang find us again. Paying tributes are a pain in the ass as it is, and I don’t want to be punished for violating that rule on top of it.”
“One day—”
“Nope.” Raimel swiped a line over his tightly closed lips. “I’m as bound to my oaths as you are.”
At least Ceryst seemed to respect that. “Speaking of oaths, we need to track down Aerrin and make sure he’s safe. Gather up what you need. We’re going to Arcana.”
Raimel looked around the sparse supplies they had left in the room. They would keep until the next time they were in the city. Then he checked the leather satchel on his belt. He had enough of his special potions to get him through the next month, but
he’d feel happier with some more liquid fire. And a few sleeping gases. And maybe some acids for good measure. “Mind if I pay a visit to a friend on the way out?”
“Do I even want to know what you’re getting?”
Raimel shook his head. “Better to truly be innocent because you suck at acting.”
A wry smile answered his jab instead of the usual swinging fist. Maybe after fifteen years, Ceryst was finally getting used to the fact that Raimel was a born smartass.
Chapter 9
A repeated nuzzle along Seroney’s jaw roused her from the deepest slumber she’d had in weeks. It was annoying enough for her to swat at the cause and roll back over to sleep a bit longer.
Instead, a familiar voice entered her mind. “Wake up, girl. Your uncle has returned and wishes to speak to you.”
“Shut up, Bhasha,” she mumbled, unwilling to open her eyes.
The blasted cat nipped the tip of her nose in response.
Seroney bolted up, tossing the cat off her chest and onto the floor in the process. She rubbed the wound and checked for blood. “You don’t have to be so cruel.”
“And you should keep your voice down before you wake everyone up.” Bhasha hopped back on the bed and gave her sleek black fur a few quick licks before focusing her bright green eyes on her. “Don’t be angry with me. I’m just the messenger. I would’ve preferred to let you sleep, but it seems Binnius has some rather urgent matters to discuss with you.”
A soft snore drew Seroney’s attention to Nyssa’s bed. Moonlight poured in through the window, and a small form shifted under the covers. A replay of the events flooded her memory. They’d stolen her letter and somehow managed to translate it. They knew she was an imposter.
And yet, here she was in her own bed instead of a dungeon in Dromore. It was better than she’d hoped for when Aerrin informed her that he knew where she was from. In that moment, she offered a quick prayer to the goddess Elios that he hadn’t learned all her secrets.
“How long have I been asleep?” she whispered as she slid out of bed, taking care not to wake her traitorous roommate. “A few hours?”
Bhasha trailed behind her with silent steps as Seroney tiptoed toward the door. “More like an entire day.”
At least she had to admit that she felt restored and refreshed from the potion, despite her initial protests. Perhaps her uncle did know what was in her best interest from time to time. The last two weeks had amounted to one giant ball of frustration. She couldn’t afford any more setbacks, not when she needed to strike before he did again.
She caught Uncle Binnius unpacking a bag full of scrolls when she entered his office, and even though he didn’t look up from his work, he said without missing a beat, “Glad to see you’ve finally gotten some rest, Seroney.”
“I appreciate the potion, but not the tactic used to strong-arm me into drinking it.”
“I knew you’d be stubborn.” He removed the last scroll and let his bag fall to the floor.
“The only reason I did drink it was because I didn’t want to encourage Aerrin to defy you.”
“Wise move.” He sank into his desk chair, looking every bit of his one hundred and six years. He handed her a small crystal on a leather cord. “As promised, I did not forget your scrying crystal. There’s also a letter from your father among these, but it can wait.”
“Let me guess its contents. He’s angry I didn’t come home for Grandmother’s funeral, and now he’s insisting that I stop rebelling against his wishes and return home before the Raven Bringer kills me, right?”
Binnius shrugged. “I have not read the letter, as it was not addressed to me, but based on our conversations, I would assume so.”
Seroney crossed her arms and released an irked sigh. “Did you explain to him that the Seven wouldn’t let me pass?”
“Multiple times, but he seemed to believe that I was keeping you prisoner here to suit my own purposes.” Binnius learned forward and propped his elbows on his desk. “Of course, I could’ve pleaded with the Seven to keep you here to begin with, seeing as how I need you more than ever.”
“No, you don’t need me. And I don’t need to waste any more time babysitting that spoiled kingling, not when my skills would be better employed tracking down the Raven Bringer and making him pay for what he did.”
“Be careful of revenge. It can lead to impulsive acts you might later come to regret.”
She had the courtesy to reflect on his words for a moment. “It’s more than just revenge. I’m a master mage, Uncle Binnius, not a fifth-year student. I can’t keep pretending to be ignorant of what I truly know if we want to defeat him. My magic can be used for greater things than trying to pass fifth-year challenges.”
“Yes, I heard about your impressive display last night, and for that reason, I’ll waive your absence from the last set of challenges and allow you to continue on as a student here.” He shuffled through his papers until he found a blank sheet and scribbled something on it.
“I don’t think you heard me correctly. I’m leaving as soon as this conversation is over.”
“And going where?”
Seroney’s breath hitched. She’d been so focused on vengeance that she hadn’t actually thought about the details of her plan. She held up the crystal in her hand. “I’ll do some scrying.”
“Do you think you’ll have luck where others have failed?”
“I’m a Meritis.” That line usually worked for her father when he wanted to end a discussion, but it didn’t work the same way on her uncle.
“And you’re willing to leave the king vulnerable to future attacks?”
“It doesn’t help that he puts himself in danger to begin with. The fool didn’t know the difference between a demon and a firebird. If you really want to protect him, you should be teaching him how to vanquish a demon.”
“I would if I could, but as headmaster, I have to adhere to the regulations set forth by both the Mages Guild and the Privy Council. They have decreed that such education is meant for those in their final apprenticeship.”
“Which conveniently excludes Aerrin.”
Binnius nodded. “At least until next year.”
Seroney cocked her head to the side. “One would think that due to the urgency of the situation, such rules could be waived.”
“I would agree with you, but so far, neither governing body has been informed of the Raven Bringer’s return.”
“And whose fault it that?”
“My dear, such matters are not taken lightly, and based on my prior experience, I cannot announce anything until more evidence is gathered.”
“And the head of your sister in a box with his emblem burned into her forehead isn’t evidence enough?”
He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, but it did little to ease the grief lining his face. “In hindsight, perhaps I should have done so, but I…”
Sympathy tugged at her heart. She wasn’t the only one who’d suffered a loss with her grandmother’s death. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“Don’t apologize, Seroney. You remind me that we all make mistakes, and I shall learn from this one.”
“As will I. The Raven Bringer warned me I would pay for crossing him, and if I’d just acted sooner—”
“You are not to blame for this,” he interrupted, his tone soothing and calm. “You see, you’re not the only one who crossed him. When you informed me of his letter, I knew he was lurking nearby, so, with the aid of a colleague, I sought him out and engaged him.”
She stood straighter, hanging on his every word. “What happened? And why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”
“I had to assess his power, and I’m afraid to admit that he is as strong as he ever was. If my colleague hadn’t employed the use of a couple vials of liquid fire, I may not be standing here today.”
“Liquid fire?” She practically salivated at the mention of the alchemical substance. The recipe was complex and kept under layers of secrecy, but she’d acquired
it back in Oudesta and made it once. Of course, she’d also left those vials and the recipe back in Oudesta, so they were of little use to her now. “Where did he get it?”
“I do not inquire into his methods. Some things are best left to ignorance, especially since the substance has been banned in the kingdom.” He gave her a stern glance that warned her to not attempt to brew her own batch. “And unlike you, I am not foolish enough to think I could engage him alone and live to tell about it.”
She avoided his gaze and searched for a counterargument. “But you are not a Meritis.”
“No, I’m just an old mage who’s seen enough in this world to not allow pride to consume me.” He started organizing his papers. “You sound like your father, by the way.”
She wrinkled her nose at the comparison.
“As much as I’d like to teach His Majesty what he needs to know, any violation of protocol could be grounds for my dismissal from the Academy, especially considering the enemies I have on the councils, and I have no desire to leave His Majesty any more defenseless than he already is.” He paused and looked directly at her as he added, “Of course, if a fellow student who already had knowledge of demons and vanquishing spells happened to teach him about such things without my knowledge…”
“Don’t even try, Uncle Binnius. My mind is made up. I’m leaving to search out the Raven Bringer.”
“Such a pity. When the person who needs protecting most is right here.”
She leaned forward, arms braced on the opposite side of the desk from him. “He knows I’m a fraud.”
“Oh?” the old man asked in fake innocence.
“He stole my letter and managed to translate it.”
“I suspect that’s more the work of Miss Barrach, but go on.” His blue eyes twinkled as though he already knew her story.
“He knows I’m from Oudesta, and I suspect he’s just waiting for the right moment to arrest me.”
“The fact that he hasn’t goes against your logic, but tell me more.”