Summoner 7

by Eric Vall

  “Thanks, Gryff,” the ice mage replied as she levered herself upright and left to help.

  I wouldn’t have spotted it if I didn’t know, but she did limp slightly on her left side.

  I turned to look at Arwyn. “What’s that about?” I asked.

  She shrugged and looked uncomfortable. I always thought of her as a mature woman, but this issue in her past seemed to dig at a much younger, more vulnerable part of her.

  “We were good friends for most of our time at school,” Arwyn said slowly. “In our last year, we got into a disagreement and things changed.” She shook off the memory that plagued her and smiled at me. “Don’t worry about it, Gryff. People grow apart.”

  I wasn’t so sure she and Ashla had really grown apart so much as let one issue come between them, but I nodded. I was sure if I got to the heart of what went wrong all those years ago, the two would be back to a good relationship. I would just have to wait to figure out what it was.

  I spent the rest of the day sanding and pulling up broken cobblestones. I had one cementroll out, and he poured gray mush from his pores onto the new pathways. It wasn’t complicated work, but it felt good to be doing something truly useful.

  The other members of the group didn’t seem to mind the chance to rest and focus on simple tasks, either. It felt like we’d finally escaped from the politics of Miriam Sharpay.

  Nia seemed to take to the menial labor with an enjoyment that surprised me, and I caught her smiling softly to herself as she roughed away an ugly burn mark on the side of a family home.

  “Having fun?” I asked the elementalist as I sidled up next to her with my own sandpaper in hand. I put muscle into my work and helped her grind away the char.

  “I am,” she confided in a warm voice. “A Wilds man like you might be used to running around in the sun and wind all day, but a job like this is new to me.” She brushed a strand of pale hair out of her face, and something wistful passed over her face. “It feels good to help people on this level, too.”

  I thought back to our escape from Hartmire Enclave after its destruction. Though we’d been sent away under the pretense of gathering supplies to help rebuild, we hadn’t done any actual work for the Enclave.

  I was sure it must’ve bothered Nia to walk away from one of her homes without being able to pitch in to pick up the pieces. With this opportunity to help Ralor’s Stead, she could make up for that lost chance in Hartmire.

  I smiled back at her, and together we worked the house back into a passable look. The pale patches where we had sanded could be painted over to match the rest of the house, and it would be like nothing ever happened.

  Cyra passed us with her brow furrowed in concentration. A group of box trolls followed behind her and tamped down the new cobblestones until they settled nicely into the newly poured cement.

  I didn’t know much about Cyra’s monsters, but it was good to see she had some grunts in addition to that powerful petripede of hers. I didn’t think the little silver dragon perched on her shoulder could count as ordinary either.

  I broke away from sanding to pour more base down with my cementroll and talk to the other ex-Wilds summoner.

  “I missed this,” Cyra told me as I approached.

  I nodded. “I know what you mean,” I agreed, “but I’m hoping you’ll keep growing to like the Academy more. You don’t seem as opposed to it now as you originally were.”

  Cyra tilted her head and considered with her eyes on her box trolls. “I still feel more in my element here than I did in the Enclave,” she confided, “and I miss Maelor.”

  I nodded. “I miss him, too. I sent him that letter you mentioned. Hopefully, he’ll get back to us soon.”

  Cyra smiled and touched me on the arm lightly. “I’m sure he will. In the meantime, as helpers of his, I’m glad we can make him proud by restoring this town. We’re going to make it look better than ever, I’m positive.” She gave me a thumbs up.

  I laughed and leaned forward to scratch Kalon at the base of one pink wing. She cooed and leaned into it with vigor.

  “You’re awfully optimistic, you know?” I told the summoner.

  She nodded. “Maelor said the same thing about you. Maybe he has a thing for collecting optimists.” Cyra grinned, and her dark eyes sparkled in the sun.

  Between her mocha skin, full lips, and lush curls of dark hair, Cyra was gorgeous even when she wasn’t doing anything. With beads of sweat on her chest from a hard day of work and a full smile, it was like the sun itself came down to live in her white teeth and shining eyes. She was a source of warmth all on her own, and seeing her like this made delicious heat run down my back and pool in my stomach.

  I finished the day with one last cobblestone placed at the very edge of the village and brushed my hands off.

  We’d done a good job so far. There was more to do, but if all went well, I should hear back from Maelor on the day after tomorrow. Then we could spend another day working and finally ready ourselves for the journey ahead with new insight.

  Sunset saw the eleven of us back in Maron’s tavern.

  The once-poised Gawain had an exhausted slump in his spine, though whether it was from labor or his lack of sleep last night, I found it hard to tell.

  Orenn looked like he was ready to work another twelve hours. I wasn’t sure if that was due to his inexhaustible metallogue strength or just his can-do attitude.

  Braden seemed in good condition, too, and Varleth showed the same implacable, unreadable face he always did.

  Layla had worn herself out running around with a basket of copper nails all day as she ferried them from the smithy to the builders. Within a matter of minutes from when she first sat down, she planted her head in Nia’s lap and fell asleep. Nia smiled and patted her friend’s hair as the little summoner mumbled in her dreams.

  Ashla sat with her bad leg stretched out in front of her, and though she and Arwyn seemed to have gotten along earlier, I noticed they now sat at opposite ends of the table.

  Progress was going to be slow, I noted.

  Erin ran her fingers idly through her new haircut as she enjoyed the feel of it. She scribbled at a letter of her own under the table with the words hidden from sight.

  I wondered whether she was writing to her parents or somebody else she’d left behind in order to be a mage.

  Cyra stared out the window while she kicked her legs idly. The sunset outside reflected off her dark eyes, and it made her look like she’d captured its light for herself.

  Dinner came and went, just as delicious as always, and I fell into bed that night exhausted by the day’s work and my healing muscles.

  The next day arrived with similar uneventfulness, and we passed another few hours laboring under the sun and restoring the town to its proper condition. Though it took a few hours, we even fixed up the collapsed home completely, from replacing the damaged floor to installing a new tiled roof.

  It was quiet, even peaceful. We all had started to get used to that easy feeling, and I relaxed my guard just a tiny bit. I hadn’t realized how tense I’d been for so long. Things finally seemed to be looking up.

  Varleth and I helped nail in a new piece of copper trim to the smithy as each of us tried to be faster than the other.

  “I got my nail in with one blow,” I said smugly as I twirled my hammer over one shoulder.

  Varleth peered over at my work. “It’s crooked,” he informed me, “so it doesn’t count as one hit if you have to replace it.”

  “What?” I demanded and leaned to look more closely. Everything looked fine. “Hey, this isn’t crooked at all.”

  I turned to see him smirking ear to ear as he knocked nails in.

  “Sure isn’t,” the banisher said, “but look, I did five more while you were busy with your one.”

  Cheeky gypsy.

  “You’re such a cheater,” I growled, “I oughtta--”

  We were interrupted by a gust of air that threatened to knock me off my feet. From above, an enormou
s dark shape plummeted from the clouds. Wisps rolled off it and revealed a huge military airship decked out for battle. The official semi-circle sigil of the council adorned one side in white paint.

  Miriam Sharpay had found us.

  “Shit,” I snapped as my heart dropped out of my chest. “Varleth, get your weapons, we’ve got a fight on our hands.”

  We could never get a few day’s rest, could we?

  I ran into the town square to gather the rest of the team, but they were already on top of things.

  Layla, Braden, and Cyra came out of the inn laden with every essence crystal they owned. Kalon had grown to the size of a large dog, and she raced by Cyra’s side with wicked talons clicking across the street. The dragon was cute in her smaller form, but it was good to remember the familiar was a capable fighter as well.

  The eleven of us gathered to watch the airship’s descent.

  “Should we try to run or hide?” Cyra asked.

  I shook my head. “It’s too late. I don’t trust Miriam Sharpay not to threaten the townsfolk for information, so we can’t hide. As for running, that wouldn’t work either. Even on the fastest stagi, we wouldn’t get far before the airship caught up.”

  The airship hummed over the field just outside town and settled on the same area that had once been a rift and a battlefield. Then the large doors lowered, and soldiers began to file out.

  Dozens of soldiers, no, more than seventy men and women, if I estimated correctly.

  Anger throbbed inside me at the thought of all this military power ignoring the actual monster threat only to arrive to capture the ones who had stopped it.

  My heart sank further when Miriam Sharpay herself stepped out with her unmistakable blue dress and sunken face. Even from this distance, I thought I could see her fishy, pouted lips.

  She pushed through the group of soldiers like some kind of celebrity and stood at the front with her hands on her hips.

  A vaguely familiar male figure emerged after Miriam. We were too far away for me to know exactly who it was, but I ended up not having to guess.

  “Dad,” Nia gasped from beside me.

  Sure enough, that imposing figure was Gallahar Kenefick. He was an amazing general, a talented and powerful mage, and to top it off, he was Nia’s father.

  I briefly considered this to be an outstanding piece of luck, but I crushed that seed of hope before it could sprout.

  “He can’t do anything to help us,” I murmured.

  Though Gallahar was on our side as an ally of Sleet and as Nia’s father, he had been working as a double agent in order to maintain the council’s trust. If he made any outward moves to support us, he would blow his cover and not be able to learn any more from the council.

  Besides that, what could he do against Miriam? She outranked him, and there were several dozen soldiers ready to back her up.

  We were on our own.

  “Traitors and terrorists, come out to meet us on the field,” Miriam shouted toward Ralor’s Stead. “If you refuse to comply with my demands, my soldiers will march in and burn this sorry little village to the ground.” The sneer in her voice was palpable, and I had no doubt she would follow through on her threat.

  After everything we’d done to save and restore Ralor’s Stead, I couldn’t let her destroy it.

  I snarled in anger. “Fine!” I yelled back, and then I indicated for my team to follow as we emerged from the town.

  Soldiers advanced on us, forming a half-circle, and as we got within speaking distance to Miriam, the circle closed behind us.

  We were completely surrounded. Though even the most well-trained soldier couldn’t hold a candle to a mage in one-on-one battle, the reality was that eleven mages couldn’t face down over seventy guns and hope to come out unscathed.

  Besides that, I was reluctant to fight the very people who were supposed to be on our side. The worst thing we could do for the sake of humanity was start fighting and killing each other.

  “Arwyn,” Miriam greeted with a pointed, upturned nose as we drew near, and saccharine disgust dripped from the nasally voice that emerged from her puffy lips. “Look, there’s Gryff, Almasy, and all your other traitor friends.” She smiled like a shark. “I followed up a single intercepted letter, and look, I’ve caught the entire bunch of you little worms. No more wriggling away like cowards.”

  My heart sank. “You found my letter to Maelor?” I asked as I clenched my fists. “What did you do to him?”

  “Nothing,” Miriam said snidely. “Your letter never even made it into the Enclave. Now hand over what I want, and come quietly.”

  “We don’t know what you’re talking about,” Arwyn argued.

  “The ciphers,” Sharpay snapped. “The ancient artifacts you thieves stole. Hand them over, Arwyn, and I won’t start killing your little brainwashed students where they stand.”

  “We don’t have them,” Layla butted in petulantly.

  “So, you’re liars too,” Miriam accused, and her teeth gritted hard enough to make a vein in her temple pop out.

  “No more of a liar than you are,” I shot back.

  Her gaze swiveled over to me as she narrowed her eyes, and the soldiers around us shifted uncomfortably.

  “Antoine told me the truth before he died,” I explained. “He knew all your dirty little secrets because you’re the one who hired him.”

  “I did no such thing,” Miriam hissed.

  “Oh really? You’re not the one who ordered the attack on Varle Enclave so you could try to steal Sleet’s position?” I crossed my arms and raised my voice. “After all, it’s not like you’ve publicly been after his job for a long time.”

  My words rang out across the field, and I could tell they were hitting the mark with some of the soldiers.

  The animosity between Sleet and Miriam was common knowledge to anybody who knew them. The fact that Miriam had stepped up so quickly to try to replace him only added to her suspicious behavior.

  Miriam took two steps forward until her beaky nose pointed right at my face. “How dare you, you little brat,” she spat. “You’re accusing me of ordering the attack on Varle Enclave?” She laughed with a grating sound. “You’re just some second year student. You have no proof!”

  Miriam’s voice rose as her outrage grew, and she continued. “In fact, it wouldn’t even matter if you did somehow procure evidence of some crime or other. Who’s going to touch me? Prestonniel Parker? The Grand Mage?” She sneered at me, and there was a taunting light behind her beady eyes. “There isn’t a single person left. There’s no more council to hold me back, tell me what to do, or act like I’m not clearly the best option for a leader. They’re all dead. And Sleet might as well be. That old coot does nothing but lay in bed these days. No, you sniveling traitors can do nothing to stop me. I’m in charge now. I’m the one who makes the decisions!”

  Our group stared at her as we were taken aback by the outburst. I couldn’t believe how bold she was. For so long, I had this image of her as a woman twisted by the death of her husband and her distrust of summoners. Now, it seemed like she wasn’t merely unstable, but completely unhinged.

  The soldiers were shocked too, it seemed. The vague sense of unease around the seventy-odd military members had grown to an audible, muttered argument about the facts. It seemed like there was some controversy flying around about Miriam’s position and how she had attained it.

  I scanned my eyes over the soldiers, but I wasn’t satisfied. People shook their heads and gestured, but nobody threw down their guns or walked away. The group was ill at ease, but it wouldn’t be enough to stop Miriam this time.

  She would have us arrested, she’d take the ciphers, and there was nothing more I could do to stop it.

  Suddenly, General Kenefick stepped forward from his position among the soldiers. His blue eyes flashed like chips of ice as his golden mage cloak swirled around him.

  “You know, Miriam,” he began, “I’ve waited and watched you for months now as I searched
for some sign you could be persuaded to do the right thing.” He sighed and scratched wearily at his gray-speckled beard with one hand. “Unfortunately, I’ve gotten very tired of waiting.”

  Sharpay turned to him with a sneer on her face, ready to retort with some dismissal or insult.

  She never got the chance to.

  In one fluid motion, Gallahar Kenefick drew his military rapier from its sheath and flicked it across Sharpay’s throat. The blade was nearly too fast to see, and he sheathed his sword again before a single drop of blood fell.

  Then a bright line of red beaded up across Miriam’s neck as her eyes bulged out of her head. Her hollowed cheeks and fish lips worked soundlessly for a moment. She coughed out a gargled sound, and then blood showered from her throat in a sudden gush like a fountain.

  Miriam’s body folded onto itself, and finally, she collapsed. She coughed once more, then fell silent.

  I stared in shock at her body as the blood roared through my ears.

  Miriam Sharpay was dead.

  After all this time, everything she put us through … she was finally dead.

  General Kenefick scrubbed one hand over his face.

  “Honestly,” he muttered, “I hate politics.” Then he took a deep breath and raised his voice to yell. “Alright soldiers, leadership has changed. Sharpay was a terrible human who committed more treason than all these mages combined.” He gestured to the group of us. “Besides that, I think I’m safe in assuming we all hated her guts and we’re glad to see her gone.” He turned slowly to lay his eyes on as many individual soldiers as possible. “Is that fine by you?”

  Many of them seemed to be in shock, but nobody argued. A number of them nodded or saluted in agreement, and there were even a few awkward cheers from the crowd.

  “Excellent,” General Kenefick exclaimed and clapped his hands together. “Let’s all return to the airship and collect our supplies to help rebuild this village. This little group of mages here has done nothing wrong, and I think we all know that. They’re free to go back to Ralor’s Stead.”