Archmagister

by Kerns, Robert M.

  “Dakkor?” Kiri asked.

  “Aye.”

  Kiri returned the stiletto to its sheath and frowned. “I don’t want to seem unwelcoming, but what are you doing here?”

  “I had a question for you,” Dakkor replied. “How badly do you want to reconcile with Gavin?”

  Dakkor’s question hit Kiri like a punch to the gut. “I—how did you know about that?”

  “Girlie, I’m the God of Thieves. My followers aren’t as adept as the Wraiths, but they do the job—mostly.”

  Kiri took a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves. “I would give anything to take back what I said. I miss Gavin terribly.”

  Dakkor nodded. “Well, if you want to have any hope of doing that, you should find a way to get to Tel Mivar, sooner rather than later. You don’t have as much time as you think.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve heard whispers, that’s all. But several revolve around an attack on Tel Mivar. None of us knows how coming events will play out, but we do see possibilities. One possibility those whispers show me is Gavin’s death.”

  “How—how much time do I have?” Kiri asked.

  Dakkor shrugged. “Could be days, could be months. I cannot say. But I owe it to Gavin to see that you have the chance. I doubt your current attire is well suited for travel, so I took the liberty of laying out some things you might find more comfortable.”

  Dakkor gestured toward the bed and Kiri turned, blinking at the sight. When she entered her bedroom, the bed was devoid of anything beyond the comforter and bed linens. The leather armor and blades Declan had obtained for her in Tel Mivar, along with traveling clothes to wear under the armor, spread across the bed. Kiri noticed immediately that the leather armor had been modified—or perhaps repaired—to cover her shoulders.

  Kiri gaped for a heartbeat, but when she turned back to thank Dakkor, he was gone.

  * * *

  Once they left Stonehearth, the days passed with little incident, and now, Lillian and Mariana sat astride their horses at the edge of the High Forest. The sun was just visible over the tops of the tall trees that cast long shadows toward them. It wouldn’t be long before night truly fell.

  “What do you think?” Lillian asked. “Stop for the night and resume in the morning? Or should we press on for a couple more hours?”

  Mariana looked up, her gaze intent on the horizon created by the treetops. “Both the giants and the dwarves have warned us that all is not right with elves just now. Where we stand is far closer to Arundel than if we were traveling from Tel, and I think we could reach it within a day. Let’s stop for the evening and start fresh in the morning. If things are truly as bad as the giants or dwarves fear, I have no wish to travel the High Forest at night. All of nature could be their weapon.”

  Lillian nodded and leaned back to wrangle the teleport beacon out of her saddlebag. She tossed it into the weeds while Mariana created a gateway to Tel Cothos.

  “Want to spend the night?” Mariana asked. “We have plenty of guest rooms.”

  “I appreciate it,” Lillian replied, “but I’ve gotten used to seeing Grandpa and Grandma each evening. I wouldn’t want them to worry.”

  That said, Lillian created her own gateway, and the ladies soon vanished from the roadside.

  The next morning, Lillian bade her father and grandparents goodbye and teleported to Tel Cothos. She opened the gateway to her beacon after meeting up with Mariana, as had been their practice for the entire journey. The resonance of the beacon was so familiar to her that she no longer bothered scrying it beforehand, but when they stepped through the gateway, they found themselves facing several dozen elves all with blades or bows at the ready.

  “Good morning, ladies,” an unctuous voice almost purred, and the throng parted to reveal an urbane elf dressed in exquisite finery. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Nirrock, and it is my extreme joy to hold the position of Nature’s Protector. Surrender, and you won’t come to any…immediate harm.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Lillian asked. “We have always been allies.”

  Nirrock’s expression shifted into a smile that held far more malice than mirth. “You lot have never been allies of mine. I—plus those you see around you and many I have placed throughout the elven government—are dark elves.”

  Chapter 32

  The days following the resolution of the Alanna Veldin case had become grueling weeks. Between Reyna’s review of the Inquisitors, the search for a new Magister of Evocation, and working with the Conclave to identify—and then fix—the more egregious abuses of the laws and tax code, Gavin was going to bed mentally—and most days, physically—drained and often waking up feeling like he hadn’t rested at all. More than once he’d caught himself thinking it was less arduous to travel to another country and sleep on the ground, but all of it and so much more needed to be done to right the wrongs inflicted upon Tel by the generations of rule by the royal family.

  No part of it was fun, but then, Gavin didn’t really expect it to be fun, either.

  * * *

  Gavin stepped through the portal to the Grand Stair from the Citadel so intent on his upcoming meeting with Reyna that he didn’t realize someone was in front of him until the force of their collision focused his mind. His quick reflexes allowed him to catch Sera before his momentum sent her bouncing back down the stone stairs, and he held her until she restored her balance.

  “I am so sorry, Sera,” Gavin said. “Are you okay?”

  Long exposure to Gavin had taught her that particular odd term among the many he used, and Sera nodded. “Yes, Milord, but I wouldn’t have been if you hadn’t caught me.”

  “It’s the least I could do after bumping into you in the first place,” Gavin replied as he released her and stepped back. “If you’ll forgive me—”

  “Magister Valera could use your help, sir,” Sera said, surprising Gavin that she had the wherewithal to interrupt him. “The parents of the Fifth Tier you suspended and reduced to Third Tier are in her office, and they are very irate. At least, the father is. I could hear him raging at the magister through the walls and door.”

  Gavin’s eyes narrowed as his expression hardened. “Well, I see where the son got his bullying tendencies. Would you mind dashing off to Reyna’s office and telling her I’ll be late for our meeting? Oh…and ask her to ready some Inquisitors as well. If he refuses to see reason, I’ll have need of them.”

  Sera blinked. “You will?”

  “It’s either that or burn them to ash where they stand, and I’d rather not make a mess in Valera’s office.”

  Sera paled just enough to notice. “Uhm—yes, Milord. I’ll go to the Chief Inquisitor straight away.”

  Despite being near the very top of the Tower, it took Gavin little time to reach Valera’s office. Just as Sera had said, Gavin heard a man shouting inside Valera’s private office, and he made a mental note to bring a healer to check Valera’s ears for physical harm after so much loud noise. Gavin didn’t slow his stride as he crossed the reception area and opened the door. He saw a rather large man—both in height and bulk—looming over Valera’s desk, his right hand clenched in a fist, except for the index finger extended rigidly toward the Magister of Divination. Someone sat at the small table beyond the man, but his bulk prevented Gavin from a good view of whoever it was. Gavin assumed it was the man’s wife.

  “How dare you intrude—” the man raged until he saw who was entering Valera’s office. He blinked and his jaw hung open as his voice cut off mid-tirade.

  Gavin looked to Valera first, asking, “Are you okay?”

  Valera nodded. “I am well.”

  “And you are?” Gavin asked, directing his attention to the man looming over Valera’s desk.

  “I am the father of the young man you shamed,” the bear of a man almost growled. “Do you not recognize me? Did you not recognize our House Glyph?”

  “Nope,” Gavin replied, adding an indifferent shrug, which seemed
to only enrage the man more. “I have far more important things to do than memorize every glyph in the House Registry, and besides, your son shamed himself.”

  “How dare you!” the man, who still hadn’t introduced himself, growled even more loudly. “I will not stand for this disrespect. Do you hear me? I will not stand for it!”

  Gavin looked the man right in the eye and invoked a Word of Conjuration, “Nythraex.” The full resonance of his power slammed into every wizard within fifty yards—at least—and he couldn’t resist taking a small measure of pleasure at the man’s momentary stagger. The effect of Gavin’s invocation appeared at the man’s side before he finished swaying on his feet: a simple wooden chair without arms and cross-bracing between the legs, sized to fit the man.

  “There,” Gavin said, gesturing at the chair that he had just conjured. “If you won’t stand for it, have a seat.”

  The red flush in the man’s neck and face slowly shifted toward purple, and out of the corner of his eye, Gavin thought he saw Valera stifling a smile. The man ground his teeth together with sufficient force Gavin was a bit surprised he couldn’t hear them squeaking, and his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists.

  “You really have only two choices here,” Gavin continued. “One, shut your damned mouth and accept my judgment on your son before I decide you are more responsible for his actions and attitudes than he is, or two, do something stupid and give me justification to disband your House and seize all its assets. I don’t really know anything about your son’s victim, but I imagine that boy’s family could do with a sudden influx of wealth. I suppose there is a third option; you challenge me to a Wizards’ Duel, but you strike me as a bully. In my experience, bullies are—as a whole—physical cowards who are incapable of taking what they dish out, so I can’t really see you deciding to commit ‘suicide by Kirloth.’ Hmmm. The more I think about it, disbanding your House and seizing your assets might just be the best outcome overall. I’m sure you’ve made quite a few enemies, and I must confess a certain interest in seeing their response to you finding yourself without power or wealth. What do you think? How long do you think it would be before someone took their vengeance out of your hide?”

  By now, all trace of anger and rage had vanished from the man’s visage. In fact, it seemed to Gavin that he looked rather pale. Gavin hoped the man was considering his words and looking back over his life, but Gavin was no mind reader and, in all truth, had bigger worries to care about.

  “Now,” Gavin said, “you are going to apologize to Valera for your conduct in her office. Then, you will collect your son, and the lot of you will vacate the College at once. I highly suggest you spend the rest of the term and the off-season adjusting yours and your son’s attitudes, because if he chooses to return next term and bullies even one more person, I’ll cast your entire family out of the Society and rip all arcane knowledge and power from your very souls…after I seize your assets and split them between yours and your son’s victims. Do you understand me?”

  The man nodded jerkily.

  Gavin’s eyes narrowed into a glare. “I didn’t hear you.”

  “I understand,” the man almost growled.

  “Good. Now, I believe Magister Valera is waiting for your apology, and I’d better be impressed.”

  The man held Gavin’s eyes for several heartbeats, as if he wanted to stare Gavin down. In the end, he turned to face Valera and said, “Magister Valera, I apologize for my rude and abusive conduct in your office. It was disrespectful and unworthy of all you do to support both the Society and the students here.”

  “Thank you,” Valera replied.

  The man turned back to Gavin, who noticed the man’s hands were still clenched, but the apology had seemed honest enough.

  “Very well,” Gavin remarked, and with the invocation of a Word of Tutation, the conjured chair vanished into nothingness. “Do you know where your son’s room in the dormitories are?”

  “Yes, sir,” the man answered.

  Gavin nodded once. “Excellent. Collect him and his personal effects and be gone. I trust I do not need to state what will happen if you are not the soul of courtesy and compassion during your remaining time on College grounds.”

  That said, Gavin stepped away from the door and nodded toward it. The man stepped to the door, opened it, and froze, startled. Gavin leaned forward far enough to look through the doorway and saw Reyna and five of her Inquisitors standing in the reception office.

  “Thank you for your swift response, Chief Inquisitor,” Gavin said, silently enjoying the man’s flinch at the use of Reyna’s new position, “but I’m pleased to report all is well here. I would appreciate it, though, if you would detail two of your excellent people to escort Valera’s visitors to collect their son. I’d hate for them to get lost.”

  Reyna’s smile was outright predatory. “Of course, Milord, it would be my pleasure.”

  The man and the woman Gavin assumed to be his wife left Valera’s office and disappeared with two Inquisitors. Reyna dismissed the rest and turned to Gavin, saying, “I’ll be ready for our meeting whenever you are, sir.”

  Gavin nodded once, and Reyna left as well.

  Turning back to Valera, Gavin said, “So, are you really okay?”

  Valera nodded and smiled. “Yes, Gavin, I’m fine. How did you know they were here?”

  “Sera came for me,” Gavin answered.

  “Ah,” Valera remarked. “While I appreciate her initiative, I’m not sure it was worth disturbing you.”

  Gavin shook his head. “I’m glad she came for me. I protect my people, Valera, which you should certainly remember.”

  “Oh, yes,” Valera replied. “I remember, and I thank you for considering me one of your people.”

  “I value every arcanist who strives to create a better world and would do the same as I just did for you, but you…well, I consider you to be a personal friend.”

  Valera smiled. “Thank you, Gavin. I consider you a friend as well.”

  Gavin nodded once. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’m due for a report on the review of the Inquisitors, but please, find me if you need me.”

  Valera gave Gavin her own nod, and he headed for his original destination of Reyna’s office.

  * * *

  A knock on his chamber door drew his attention, and the Necromancer looked up from the tome he was reading.

  “Enter!”

  The lieutenant who always seemed to be the one chosen to report to him entered the room, and for once, he didn’t look terrified.

  “Master, the preparations continue to go well. The host should be ready to march on Tel Mivar within a few days.”

  “Excellent,” the Necromancer replied. He still wasn’t sure attacking the new Archmagister was the wisest course, but all of his arcanist lieutenants counseled him to do so. At worst, the plan would rid him of the idiots among them. “Are the arcanists ready to raise the ritual gate?”

  “They are finalizing their preparations but assure me they will be ready by the time the host can march, if not before.”

  “Thank you,” the Necromancer replied.

  The lieutenant snapped a quick salute and vacated the chamber.

  The ritual gate was a massive version of the teleportation gateway most arcanists could conjure. It was necessary to move the massive horde of undead the Necromancer commanded, and it was how he had overwhelmed what little garrison had remained at Skullkeep all those centuries ago. It would be interesting to see how the young upstart pup Bellos had chosen for Archmagister would respond to hundreds of undead rampaging through Tel Mivar.

  * * *

  Gavin sighed as he sat on the edge of the planter designed to serve as a bench. The College’s gardens existed not only to supply reagents to the alchemy classes but also served as a place of peace and relaxation. The largest tree in the entire garden shaded the planter Gavin chose for his seat. Supposedly, it dated back to the early days of the College, planted by the druids of the High Forest wh
o helped design and tend the garden for many decades during the Founding. No matter the tree’s source or age, the massive arbor’s multi-colored leaves swaying in the faint breeze lifted Gavin’s spirits like little else at the College could, these days. For some reason, the tree reminded Gavin of home, even though he had no memories of home to tell him why.

  As he was enjoying the simplicity of nature around him, a strange sight caught his eye. A point on the tree’s bark began swirling like a whirlpool and slowly expanded until it occupied the entire side of the tree facing Gavin. Oddly, Gavin sensed nothing through his skathos.

  Gavin almost couldn’t believe his eyes when the whirlpool in the tree’s bark seemed to draw inward for the briefest moment before three people stepped out into the shade afforded by the mighty tree. The moment all three people had fully exited the tree, the whirlpool effect in the tree’s bark vanished as if it had never been. And Gavin knew them.

  “Telanna? Elayna? Sarres?” He tried not to gape at seeing his friends step out of a tree.

  “Really, Gavin?” Telanna said, quirking one eyebrow upward. “You bend reality to your will as a matter of course and yet gating through plants astonishes you?”

  “Oh,” Gavin said. “Is that what you call it?”

  Telanna nodded. “All druids who have a sufficient rapport with Nature can do it, and this tree was planted during the Founding to provide us easy access to the College…with Kirloth’s full understanding and permission, of course.”

  “Wow, okay.” Gavin smiled as he regarded his friends. “As much as I’m glad to see you, I can’t help but think you’ve come with a purpose.”

  “You are more correct that you know,” Elayna replied. “Nirrock, the dark elf who controls the government of the High Forest, has taken Lillian and Mariana prisoner.”