The Arcane War

by Tam Chronin

  Davri sighed, nodded. "I know. I promise."

  "Thank you," she said. "It's just too much for me to take sometimes, so I can't imagine how he'd feel. When this is over and we're safe again, I'll do everything in my power to keep him safe. Anything, just to make sure he's never hurt again. I want him to have a normal life. As normal as I can make it."

  That, of course, was one potential future. "I'm sure you'll do your best." He smiled, right to her face. He'd said too much. It would affect the future. But...

  He cast the spell. The one he hated above all because it was such a violation of trust and self. It was cheating at the worst level.

  It was an admission of failure.

  "You'll forget this conversation," he said, planting the suggestion. "You'll remember that we talked, but you won't think about the specifics."

  Aral stared at him blankly.

  Davri wasn't hungry anymore.

  "I should go unpack. Settle in." He pushed his plate aside and stood. Still smiling.

  Her face lit up with a mischievous grin. "Finally go see Byrek?"

  "Maybe."

  Aral stood and took Davri's plate. "His face lights up whenever he gets a letter from you. Go on, silly. He wants to see you as much as you want to see him."

  "Are you sure about that?"

  "Go see for yourself." Aral grinned. "He's down in the library. Downstairs, second corridor to the right, third door. He knows you're here." With that, she left.

  Davri's heart was pounding.

  As he walked, he replayed every thought, every letter, every vision he'd had featuring Byrek.

  Shoved aside his failure with Aral. Distracted himself from the thought he'd just erased knowledge from someone's mind and hijacked their free will.

  Damn it, no. Think of Byrek.

  He remembered the certainty he'd felt when they met. The unshakable feeling that they were meant for each other. Every vision he'd had since they met had reinforced that.

  But nothing was guaranteed.

  "Byrek?"

  His feet had brought him to the library before he knew what else to say. Davri stood in the doorway, waiting.

  There was a sound of a book being snapped shut from behind a book shelf. The elf immediately poked his head around, eyes wide at first.

  Byrek's expression softened, and mirth sparkled behind his eyes. "Shouldn't that be 'Master Arsat', Davri?"

  "I'm not your student anymore," Davri said. He walked over as calmly as he could force himself. He wanted to run and kneel before Byrek and kiss his feet and beg for affection.

  He didn't.

  "No, you aren't," Byrek murmured, head cocked to the side. Assessing. Weighing. Judging.

  It scared Davri. Despite the few letters they'd managed to exchange, despite the words they'd written each other, what if Byrek found Davri lacking?

  What if he could tell what Davri had just done?

  "I'll never be your equal," Davri said. "I'll never live that long. I'm going to die impulsive, impatient, and human. But when I do, I want it to be at your side."

  Byrek walked over and reached for Davri's hand. "I've missed you," he said. "I didn't know that I would. I've lived thousands of years without you in the world, you know. I never missed you, then. It caught me by surprise. Your smile. Your teasing. Your confidence. Your kindness. You always looked at me and saw me, not some source of history and information."

  "You'll really give this a chance?" What would he do if Byrek said no?

  "Love between humans and elves never ends well." The words hung between them a few moments. Then, Byrek bowed his head. "Despite that, yes. I'll give this a chance."

  "Thera, damn it all."

  Thera jerked her head up, blinking away the stupor she had drifted in.

  There was no vitriol behind Master Dershan's words, just weariness. A year or two ago the words would have been shouted across the room, and she'd have cringed at the thought of disappointing her professor. Now?

  "Come here, girl. You're overworked, and you've just added a second spoon of sulfur."

  Oh. Damn it.

  Volatile potions and lack of sleep were not a good combination. "I could try to scoop it out. It's still sitting at the top."

  "No," he said. "I have a use for it in that state, but you need sleep more than I need another bomb tonight."

  "I'm sorry, sir."

  They were behind schedule. It was an arbitrary schedule, since they had no idea when their handiwork would be needed, but in this case, it was better to be prepared too soon than too late.

  "Come here," he repeated, patting the workbench beside him. "I've done the same thing five times in the last week."

  Thera only hesitated a moment, but she walked over and sat down beside him. It always surprised her just how small he seemed when she got close to him. Hobgoblins were short, shorter than the northern elves, and as ugly as elves were beautiful. But Master Dershan somehow managed to carry himself as if he were taller, filling a lecture hall on sheer personality and impatience.

  "Perhaps we should take an evening off," he said. He looked as tired as she felt. "We've done enough for half the library and the laboratories, at least. The rest of the library should burn readily enough."

  "The books are packed in so tightly that most will just smolder around the edges a while." Thera recited the words she'd been telling herself for the last month. "The priests might be able to salvage them. They can't be trusted with any of it. Not a single page."

  Master Dershan nodded, but he pulled out two tiny vials and a flask. "They're not ready to move against us yet." He poured, and she could smell the strong spirits from the glass he handed her. "As for the library, well, the books are not as tightly packed as they once were."

  They tapped their glasses together and drank. Sweet fire burned its way down Thera's throat, and she only coughed a little bit.

  The wrinkles seemed to smooth a bit from Master Dershan's face after a moment, and he relaxed visibly.

  "Daichen and Garm have managed to smuggle a few books, then?" Thera asked when she could speak again.

  "More than just a few," he said, actually smiling. "I think they've recruited Mistress Esandir. We've saved considerably more books than I'd expected to by this point."

  "We're not supposed to talk about or speculate on who else might be recruited," Thera frowned a little. More of a pout, really.

  "Child," Master Dershan chuckled, "I'll be surprised if the entire university hasn't been recruited by now. Oh, there are a handful who aspire to be priests of magic still, but I've kept an eye on them. No one is happy with the most recent edicts coming from the temples."

  "Yes, but, one of my contacts said that one of their recruits had been arrested. I'm worried we'll be compromised."

  "And it's kept you up nights?" Master Dershan poured more spirits for them both.

  Thera nodded and drank, hoping that the heat of the spirits would melt her worries as the warmth spread through her body.

  "You're not the only one," he said. "Thera, these are hard times. Harder than I've ever seen. I'd bet only elves remember a time where we were so close to rebellion against the gods. It's terrifying, and you're right to worry. But don't let it rob you of sleep. Accept that people will die, people will betray us, and even innocents will suffer for no reason.

  "My people are generally hostile to outsiders, and to us an outsider could just mean another hobgoblin you've never met before. We're always at war. I grew up with war, with losing people I love, and watching people suffer who didn't deserve it. It's why I left. I wanted my life to leave behind something lasting, to have had a greater meaning, even if it meant living among humans instead of my own kind. My only advice to you is take a night to say goodbye to everything. Visualize the city in rubble. Picture burying each of your friends. Move on before they're gone and be thankful for every moment that isn't a disaster."

  "That's a cheerful thought," Thera slouched, handing him the small cup. He put it away and Thera fr
owned. She would have liked more. He probably knew best, however.

  "It's practical advice for the times to come." Master Dershan patted her on the knee in a paternal gesture she'd never have expected before they'd started working together.

  "I'll try," she said.

  "Go, say your goodbyes in your mind, and get a night's rest. We can start again after classes tomorrow."

  How was the rest of the growing rebellion preparing? Thera wondered as she walked down the dark halls to the dormitories. What were they doing to help the city, to fight the priests? How many people were there, really?

  It was impossible to know. They didn't gather. They worked in small cells, the smaller the better. They all had something to do.

  And Thera was about to say goodbye, in her heart, to them all.

  Chapter Twelve –

  The Fall of Anogrin

  "My back is killing me," Thera grumbled as she opened the door to the café. "Those 'extra credit' potions for Master Dershan are going to be the death of me."

  "Better that than the library," Daichen replied. He headed to the nearest empty table and flopped into a chair. He waved to Arlanz, then leaned forward and slumped onto the table. "When I'm not going cross-eyed from transcribing, I'm about to collapse from moving stacks of books to the next wagon. We had another go out last night."

  "My fingers stink," Thera said, shoving them into Daichen's face. "Why can't explosives smell like roses?"

  "Gross," Daichen turned his head away from her hand. "Fine. Books smell better." He sat back up as Arlanz brought over their usual drinks with a plate of berries. "Are they still in the cellar?"

  Arlanz shook his head. "They'll return in a few moments," he said. "Relax. We're among friends."

  Friends? Thera sat up straighter and looked around. Raev walked over to a pair in the corner. They wore their religion around their necks. Damn it. At least they weren't priests, even if they were almost as bad. Supplicants were out doing the dirty work, while the priests gave commands.

  No wonder the others weren't here right now.

  "It's not like they'd recognize Davri," Daichen said under his breath, barely loud enough for Thera to hear. "It's been years since…you know."

  Thera nodded. "It doesn't hurt to be careful," she said at the same volume. Then louder, "Washing flasks for extra credit is the worst, though."

  "Stop falling behind and you won't need it," Daichen teased, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

  They bantered back and forth along those lines until the two "friends" in the corner stood to leave.

  "If they wouldn't give us this much work—" Thera was saying, thrusting her arms wide to show him just how much. She was interrupted by an outraged gasp from the dour young woman who wore the emblem of the sun on her necklace. "Sorry, sorry," she apologized with a laugh.

  "How dare you raise a hand to me?" the supplicant demanded.

  "Um, you were behind me? You almost walked into me." Thera rolled her eyes. "If I wanted to hit you, you'd have been hit."

  "Disrespectful cow," the woman spat.

  Arlanz was shaking his head, looking alarmed. This was neither the time nor the place.

  But, Thera hadn't done anything wrong!

  "I apologize for my friend," Daichen said before Thera could react further. "Let me pay for your drinks. It's the least I can do. She's been studying too long and has forgotten how to be polite."

  "It's true," Thera said, doing her best to fake being contrite. "Been awake for three days. I'm a beast to everyone, not just the devout."

  The woman with the sun pendant narrowed her eyes, but her companion convinced her to back down. They left without paying, making a point to tell Arlanz that "the girl" should be responsible for their order.

  Thera didn't relax until they were out of sight entirely. "She called me a cow. Bitch is lucky I didn't turn her into one. If we'd been anywhere else…"

  "You wouldn't have turned her into a cow," Daichen said, laughing. "Cows are big and can do some real damage. Turn her into a slug."

  "Are you calling me big?" Thera demanded. "Careful, or I might do some damage!"

  Arlanz laughed at them both. "Wait until you meet Raev. He will make you feel like a tiny little doll. Drink up, and do not worry about payment. I am just glad to those two gone."

  The front door opened again. Finally. Davri and Master Arsat joined them, sitting down. Bretav came from the back door, nodding that all was clear.

  "I'm surprised everything has gone so well, so far," Davri said, grinning.

  "If you consider this going well," Master Arsat said. "Anogrin's streets have never been so quiet or tense. People scurry away and avert their eyes, or they strut like they are looking for an excuse. They're saying the word execution openly now, instead of sacrifice."

  "Exactly as planned," Daichen muttered, then took a long drink of his tea.

  It had been simple enough to do, Thera thought. The mistrust had already been there. People were begging for a rallying point, for a leader to channel their frustration and anger. It didn't take much to turn Aral Tennival into a mythic figure. Too many people had witnessed her teleporting away, like a god. The legend almost created itself.

  Emotionally, though, it was the hardest thing any of them had done.

  "Anything could start a war at this point," Thera mused. "I don't like it. But it's what we needed."

  Master Arsat patted her on the arm. "The world will be better for it, or so I've been told."

  "If you say so," she said, skeptical.

  Anything he would have said was cut off when the door flew open.

  A high priest stood in the doorway.

  His wild white hair flew in the breeze that had followed him into the room. He was the half-elf, Thera realized, recognizing him by reputation. Bloodthirsty and depraved, cruel.

  Everyone in Anogrin knew who Krecek was. He was once quoted as saying, "Let me investigate this rebellion. I'm bored and executing the riffraff will give me something to look forward to, mid-week."

  The café fell silent.

  "The high priests are shutting down the university," he said. He stared at Arlanz, eyes intense. "They're to confiscate the books, use them as evidence of heresy. Now." Krecek looked around the room. "Warn the other students." His eyes met Thera's. Held them a moment. "Go. Run!"

  Thera nodded. Grabbed Daichen's wrist. Ran out the door.

  They knew what this meant.

  They'd planned for this moment.

  It was sooner than they'd hoped, but it's what the bombs and emptying the library had been for. The time had finally come.

  "If we survive, I'll find you," Daichen said.

  In a moment of bravery, she kissed him.

  "For luck," she said.

  She then ran straight to Master Dershan's laboratory.

  It was time.

  Krecek collapsed at one of the vacated tables, elbows braced on his knees, hands covering his face.

  Bretav had the presence of mind to make him a strong cup of coffee and bring it over. The others were too stunned by what they had heard, and the sheer shock of him being there, to figure out how to respond.

  "Here you go," Bretav said softly, setting the cup before him. "Take your time. The students know what to do from here. Thanks be to Agruet, they've been expecting this day."

  "They have?" Krecek looked up, faint hope in his eyes. "The books…?"

  Arlanz cleared his throat. "The library is set to explode. It is a trap. We could not let you know."

  "It's why we're here," Davri said, gesturing to Byrek in inclusion. "We came to oversee the removal of the last of the most important volumes. They're being sent to Plath, most of them. But we knew we would have to sacrifice some, to bait the trap."

  Bait the trap.

  Krecek frowned. "You might catch some priests off guard, but not likely. They know they're going into a stronghold of mages."

  Damn it all. Some of them were counting on it.

  "And we
know," Byrek said, "that our enemies are priests and faithful of all levels, of all gods. To our credit, we have not been caught unaware."

  "There's more," Krecek said. "The other priests know that I've come here, to warn you. They all but sent me, to prove that what I've been doing won't make a difference."

  Silence.

  Byrek seemed to digest that thought the fastest. "They're mages." There was resolve in his voice. "This is war. The fact that both sides are aware changes nothing."

  Davri shook his head, though. "What did the priests have planned?"

  "This is just the beginning," Krecek said. "Without the mages to keep them in check, they'll lock down Anogrin with absolute rule. Any mage must first be a priest, and all magic must be done only with their permission. From there they mean to impose this human idea of priestly rule upon all races."

  Byrek straightened, tense, eyes narrowed.

  "I told them the elves would never stand for it," Krecek continued. "They said humans breed faster and will overtake them in sheer numbers if elves do not submit to the will of the gods."

  "This won't end well," Byrek muttered darkly.

  "It was never meant to," Davri said, placing his hand on Byrek's arm. "They've raised the stakes, that's all. We're still going to win."

  "I'm done with them," Krecek said. "I'm not going back to the temple, not after that. I'm fully on your side, if you'll have me."

  "Of course," Davri nodded. "We're lucky to have you on our side, and your value isn't limited by your position."

  "You've been invaluable to us," Byrek agreed. "We'll find another place for you, you've done what was needed."

  "Look," Arlanz interrupted them, pointing out the window.

  Thick, black smoke billowed into the sky, tinged orange in spots from what must have been an intense fire.

  "It's begun," Byrek said, stepping toward the door. "That was much faster than I thought it would be."

  "That's not the direction of the university," Bretav said, picking up her skirts and rushing outside.