The Sapphire Flute: Book 1 of The Wolfchild Saga

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The Sapphire Flute: Book 1 of The Wolfchild Saga Page 32

by Karen E. Hoover

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Ember awoke to pounding on her door somewhere near the midnight hour. She rolled out of bed and stumbled across the room to crack open the door.

  “Ember Shandae?” a gravelly voice said from the hall.

  She rubbed sleep from her eyes and nodded. “Yes? Is something wrong?” she answered before thinking, then cringed. Fear and sleep had made her careless. Only her uncle and the people in charge of testing knew who she was and where to find her.

  “We’ve been sent by the Mage Council to escort you to the hall. They wish to discuss your test results,” the wizened guard answered her, with no emotion on his worn and scarred features.

  At twelve o’clock? Wow, when the council said they would let her know before morning, they really meant it. “Just give me a moment to change and gather my stuff—”

  The guard shook his head and pushed the door open wide. “I’m sorry, but the council made it clear that you were to come immediately. There is no time.” The man stepped into the room, three other guards fanned out behind him.

  “What? You won’t even give me time to change?” Fully awake, her heart jumped in her chest. Why would the council need to see her this late at night? It made no sense, but she wasn’t used to the way of things here. Maybe this was normal.

  She turned back to her bed and bent to retrieve the satchel she’d been told to keep with her at all times.

  “Let me just get my bag—”

  “You won’t need that, sir,” the lead guard said, placing a hand on her shoulder. He turned Ember around and clapped an iron cuff around her wrist. “The council only requires your presence at this time. If they need anything more, someone will be sent to retrieve it.” He pulled her along and snapped the other bracelet on her left wrist so her hands were tied together, forming a T. There was no room for movement.

  It hit her then that she was not a guest, but a prisoner of these four men. They had Ember through the door before she could gather her thoughts enough to say anything.

  About that time they passed Uncle Shad’s door. Ember dug in her heels and pulled against the leader, but another man stepped forward to take her other arm.

  “Wait, wait! What are you doing? What did I do? Where are you taking me? Uncle Shad! Somebody, help me!” she screamed and let her legs collapse so all her weight hung from those two strong arms.

  It did not seem to faze the soldiers a bit; they merely lifted her by the elbows and carried her down the hall. Nobody answered, not a word. No doors opened to her cries, not even Uncle Shad’s.

  Ember was on her own.

  “Please,” she begged. “Can’t you just tell me where you’re taking me? What did I do?”

  “We’re only following orders, sir,” said the guard to her right. “Our apologies for the discomfort.”

  “Who sent you for me? Was it Ian?” She put her feet beneath her again, tired of holding her legs up like a chicken.

  “The council sent us, sir. We’re only following orders,” the same guard repeated.

  As they stepped from the building with Ember thrashing between them, another group of men approached. “Release the girl,” said a voice she knew, a voice that sent chills down her spine. Ian had caught up with her after all. “She is to be put in custody of the city guard for crimes committed against the city of Javak.”

  “That’s a lie!” Ember screamed.

  “Silence!” The pockmarked guard demanded. Even the crickets stilled at his volume. He turned to Ian. “By whose authority do you claim this boy?” he said, to make the point that Ian couldn’t even get her gender straight.

  “Police Chief Naedar,” Ian said, impatient as always.

  The guard shook his head. “I am acting on behalf of Councilmember Laerdish. His authority overrides that of the police chief. The boy remains with us.”

  Ian growled, frustrated, as he ran his hand over his head. He glanced back at his men, then at the group that surrounded Ember, as if he were weighing his chances against them.

  A voice whispered in Ember’s mind then, a voice she’d never heard before, yet was strangely familiar and carried with it the tingle of lightning before a storm. “Drop to the ground, now!” The voice was so powerful that her body responded immediately. She let her weight sag, and this time the guard let her go. She hit the hard dirt face-first just as her keepers drew their swords and Ian let out a pained scream.

  She rolled over and out of the way to watch.

  The first thing that caught her eye was a white blur arcing into the sky away from Ian. It screeched as it banked to the right, and Ember recognized it as the white hawk that had been watching her. She noticed bloody streaks across the top of Ian’s gleaming head as he searched the sky for his attacker.

  Her mind raced at the implications. The white hawk could talk; it must have been the one who told her to drop. It was also becoming increasingly clear that the bird really was a guardian of some kind—but what was it? A spirit? Another shapeshifted animal? And why would a guardian bother to protect her?

  The answer lay only with the bird, and he soared quickly away from her.

  The men who stood behind Ian divided themselves between watching the sky and nervously eyeing the guards who surrounded Ember with glowing swords.

  Ian wiped at the blood dripping into his eyes and put a hand on the hilt of his sword. The men behind him looked at the guard and to a man standing just behind Ian. The man chewed his lip for a moment, then gestured a retreat with his chin. The group disappeared into the dark.

  “I wouldn’t if I were you,” the guard to Ember’s right said in a deathly quiet voice.

  When Ian still didn’t remove his hand from the sword, the guard spoke again. “Look behind you, man.”

  Ember’s kidnapper scowled, refusing to move until the captain sheathed his own weapon. Ian sneaked a glance over his shoulder, then surprise and frustration flashed across his face, only to be replaced with cold fury. He faced the scarred captain and glared, first at the guards, then at Ember as she lay in the dirt. “This isn’t over yet,” he said, then stormed to his horse. He threw himself across its back and galloped toward the council chambers.

  The pockmarked guard reached down and took Ember by the elbow, pulling her to her feet once more. “You certainly are the popular one tonight, aren’t you, boy?”

  “Why are you doing this to me?” Nobody answered. She kicked herself for not escaping while the guard was distracted, but there was nothing to be done about it now.

  Ember did everything she could to slow the guard down, hoping Uncle Shad would come to her rescue, or that she’d see Aldarin, or Ezeker, or even Tiva along the way. She dug her toes and heels at the dirt, tried to squirm her way loose, kicked, bit, and spit at the guards, but it was no use. They held her fast.

  In the end she had to be satisfied with being dead weight and letting herself be carried and dragged all the way through town and into the building she had tested in that very evening. If they were going to take her without cause, she wasn’t going to help them.

  Instead of going left into the auditorium, the guards turned to the right and, pulling aside a curtain, dragged Ember up a hidden stairway. As the passage narrowed, two more guards stepped forward and lifted Ember to their shoulders. She traveled feet first, staring at the ceiling as if being borne to her own funeral.

  Why, oh why, did she ever think she could be anything different than what she was? Why had she resisted her mother’s attempts to keep her safe? Riding atop these guards’ shoulders while clapped in irons, she would have given anything to be sitting at home with her mother. Drinking spiced cider and debating over the crops or the care of the newest foal would have been plenty of excitement. She would rather be anywhere but here, and that feeling only intensified when the guards stopped and lowered her to her feet in front of the grand double-paneled doors.

  The four tall men brought themselves to attention as the doors swung wide with apparently no hand to open them. Ian strolled from the room and
tipped his hat to her. Somehow in the short time since she’d last seen him, he’d found a bandage for his head and retrieved his hat. Ember had the feeling he’d just made her situation much, much worse. Two of the guards took her elbows once more and pulled her forward. The fight left her as she saw the silent crowd waiting, some glowering and others with fearful expressions.

  The room was huge. Ember felt like an insect under a looking glass. The ceiling domed high above with triangular windows. Magelights bobbed around the walls, their odd blue glow casting shadows that seemed strange and twisted. She shivered.

  The men and women of the council sat on tiered bench-style seats forming a half-circle around the room, rising from ground level up twelve or more layers. The seats were nearly full, and the hush that settled over the group at Ember’s entrance was loud to her overwrought nerves.

  The center of the room was beautiful. A star of inlaid stone sat in the middle, a circle surrounding the points. The guards led Ember to the circle, then backed away to take positions on four of the points of the stars, a fifth guard appearing to take his place on the remaining corner. A streak of lightning arced between the five of them and quickly disappeared. Ember wasn’t sure what that was about, but the sinking feeling in her stomach told her it was nothing good. She stood quietly, though her eyes flashed at the silent crowd facing her.

  One man stood. He was wider than any man she had ever seen, and his clashing robes billowed about him like silken sails on a ship. It almost hurt Ember’s eyes to look at him, but look at him she did. She was not going to let them beat her down, not even when she stood helpless in chains before them. She was sure it was a misunderstanding that could be cleared up quickly.

  Unfortunately she never had a chance to talk. Their minds had already been decided, no matter what logic might tell them.

  “Brothers and Sisters of the Council, I give to you Ember Shandae,” the large man said, throwing his arm toward her and spinning slowly toward the council like a great thespian. He then turned back and met Ember’s eyes. She was surprised by the intelligence and hate there. What had she done?

  “Ember.“ He said her name like it was a joke of some kind. “Do you know why you are here?”

  “No.” She tried to hide her emotion, but her voice quavered. “The guard said you wanted to talk to me about my test results, but that’s all I know.”

  “Ah, yes. Your test,” he said, smirking at her with angry eyes once again. “Did you know that no one has perfectly passed this test for three thousand years? Did you know that it is next to impossible to get every single answer right?”

  Ember shook her head.

  “It’s true. The test has been designed so you can see only the colors you can use with your power. Three thousand years full of one-, two- and three-color tests. A four-color every now and then, but six? Rarely. Seven? Never. Not in three thousand years. And yet you have managed to do exactly that this evening, Ember Shandae. Would you mind telling me how it is possible that you could do this thing that no one has done in all this time?”

  “Because I could see all the colors,” she said, anger chasing away her fear for the moment. Her heart beat fast in her chest.

  “Liar!” he screamed, spittle flying from his mouth. His face reddened with the intensity of his emotion. “You cheated!”

  “I didn’t cheat!” she yelled back at him. “I’ve never cheated at a thing in my life. I saw all those colors, whether you want to believe it or not. I don’t cheat, and I don’t lie.”

  The room stirred with voices. Sleeves fluttered as the council members turned and whispered to each other.

  “Silence!” the lead councilman demanded. The room immediately quieted. “You do not cheat and you do not lie, you say? Perhaps then you can explain to us the discrepancy we find with your name.” He gave Ember a gloating type of smile. The man had some kind of plan, one she wasn’t going to like, Ember was sure of it, but she didn’t know what to do. She just stood and watched as he beckoned to a sixth guard who had previously gone unnoticed. The man nodded to the councilman, leaned inside a curtained alcove, and muttered to someone there. They waited for a moment, and when he pulled aside the curtain, a woman stepped forward. Ember’s heart surged at the familiar face, and then fell with sickening dread. She knew where this was heading and could kick herself for her stupidity. The flamboyant councilman was watching and smiled at her discomfort.

  “Someone you know then, I see. Let’s hear from her, shall we? Mistress Rikash, do you know this boy?” he asked the woman Ember had met at the baths that afternoon, the woman from Ketahe who had been so interested in Ember’s tattooes. The woman she had spoken to while she had been a girl.

  Rikash shook her head. “I do not know this boy, no.”

  “And yet the girl you spoke with today was one Ember Shandae?” he asked, watching Ember squirm from the corner of his eye.

  “Yes, I signed her in to the baths this afternoon.”

  “Could you describe her to us, please?”

  “Yes, sir. She was small—slender and short, with shoulder-length brown hair and green eyes. She had tattooed wolves and fine chains on her hands, and a wolf pendant embedded in her breastbone. It was quite fascinating.”

  “Tattoos like these?” he asked, reaching for Ember’s hand. He pulled off the bracelet Shad made for her, exposing the embedded chain and pendants that had been absorbed into her skin. “A pendant like this?” He pulled a small knife from his belt and ripped the shirt DeMunth had given her from neck to mid-chest, exposing the pendant. He jabbed it with his finger, the wolf ’s eyes flashing at the intrusion.

  Ember gasped and tried to yell for the man to leave her alone, but her mouth was frozen. She could not move, could not speak—could only watch in horror as the pendant her mother had told her never to remove, the pendant she had been told was a protection to her, slowly rose through her flesh, transformed back into solid metal, and fell whole—chain attached—into his hands. She felt as if a piece of her very soul had been torn away. How had the man overcome her father’s magical transformation to take it off?

  Anger, fear, and something else surged up inside of her—something that battled with the constraints that kept her from speaking or moving, that kept her bound to this spot of earth. Heat rose and blinded her for a long moment, so that she missed part of what was said.

  When she came back to herself a few eternal seconds later, her pendant was in the woman’s hand. She examined it very closely.

  “. . . very much like the one I saw this afternoon, yes. If it is not the original, it is a very good copy, though it feels much the same as the other did. Yes, I would say it is the same pendant.”

  “So how would you explain the difference here, Rikash? You very clearly saw a young woman going by the name of Ember Shandae with these tattoos and this pendant in the bathing room, and now standing before us, having taken the test, getting one hundred percent of the questions correct, is a boy with the same tattoos and pendant. Girl in one, boy in the other. So who is the real Ember Shandae?”

  The woman shook her head. “I cannot say, sir. I only know that which I saw this afternoon. The two of them do not look much alike, so I cannot even guess that one is disguised as the other.”

  Ember wanted to shout at them, I am the real Ember Shandae! I am both! but she could not get her mouth to work. She stood frozen, a living, breathing piece of marble that could not speak or move. She fought it with all she had, even tried calling on the magic within her, but she was bound tighter than with chains and rope. She was completely within their power.

  The only person who had seen her as both boy and girl was Uncle Shad, and he hadn’t heard her calls earlier. She realized there had to be a certain level of physical proximity for mindspeech to work, but she called to him anyway. He still didn’t answer. If she could have cried, she would have. It seemed hopeless.

  “I’ll tell you what happened, Mistress Rikash, council members. It has come to my attention that C’Tan h
erself has taken an interest in our academy. I have it on good authority that she has been trying to infiltrate by placing an agent amongst our apprentices—an agent who very much fits the description of this young man here. I believe she prepared this boy and somehow has found a leak in the system, providing him with the answers that would make him seem too good to be true . . . a new white mage. Here is a sketch of the agent, provided me by one of our own spies.”

  He held up a piece of parchment for the council members to see, then set it on a small table and placed a clear pink stone on its face. The rest of the council picked up papers that had been replicated just like her test that afternoon. They glanced at the sheet and at Ember, then stared harder. Surprised and angry mutterings came from the crowd. The head mage picked up the paper again and turned around to Ember, holding it before her.

  “Look familiar, boy? It should. It’s the face you see in the mirror each and every morning. Thought you could get away with it, did you? Well, you’re about to see that the council of magi is much smarter than your mistress gives us credit for. She will pay for her treachery, and so will you, boy. Oh, so will you.”

  Ember would have screamed if she could have, for the image staring back at her was indeed her own, the male face she had created beneath the giant willow, a face pulled from her own imagination and brought to life at Shad’s urging.

 

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