Keric tapped on the solitary door at the far end of the long corridor that ran down the length of the third floor of Tallwarden Hall.
“Come in.”
Professor Padronis was standing behind his desk, in the midst of what looked like a sea of chaos. Books, bags, parchments, and dozens if not hundreds of pieces of assorted miscellanea covered every flat surface in the room. Padronis was selecting items and putting them into a box that was balanced precariously on the edge of his chair; a half-dozen similar boxes were already stacked near the door. They blocked the door from opening more than a bit, but Keric was able to slide through.
The senior mage looked up as Keric entered the room. “Ah, good, Keric, I was hoping to talk to you before the movers arrived.” He gestured with a hand toward the mess. “As you can see, I’m a bit behind. Hand me that mortar and pestle, will you? On the shelf behind the door.”
As Keric handed it over, he said, “Congratulations on your promotion, sir.”
Padronis hesitated with the ceramic bowl in his hands. “Yes, well, I think we can all understand why Dean Corinther chose to retire now. I cannot blame him.”
Keric fidgeted a bit as Padronis carefully lowered the mortar and pestle into the box, then picked up the lid, fastened it, and shifted the box to the floor. There were more empty boxes behind the desk, but Keric couldn’t see how all of the contents of the office would possibly fit into even twice their number. “Sir, I wanted to speak to you about my request. I thought maybe you could intercede with—”
Padronis interrupted him with a raised hand. He gestured for Keric to close the door. When he had, the older mage sighed and said, “Keric, the team sent into the Labyrinth included senior mages from both the University faculty and the Mage Council. Do you think you’ll find something they could not?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just that… I needed to…”
“I know that it is difficult to gain closure in circumstances like this,” Padronis said. “In any case, even if I wanted to intervene, the matter has been closed. The Council has decreed that the annual Labyrinth competition is to be ended; they have taken custody of the crystal and are planning on securing it in their vaults. I wouldn’t be surprised if they ended up finding a use for it again at some point, but it is no longer a University concern.”
“No longer a University concern,” Keric repeated, the words tinged with more than a hint of bitterness.
“We attend to our own,” Padronis said softly. “I didn’t see you at the services yesterday.”
“I’m sorry. I… I guess I just wasn’t quite ready to move on.”
The other mage nodded. “Mages Hael and Sarhus will be missed; it is our task now to ensure that they will not be forgotten. Have you spoken to Marthek Jarol?”
“Not since he returned to Sirrath, to his family’s estate there. I got the impression, however, that he was not planning on returning to the University.”
“Yes. A shame, that. We can do so much with our magic, but we cannot give the boy back his arm.” He settled his gaze on Keric. “The attack cost us three promising young mages. It is my sincere hope that it does not claim a fourth.”
Keric nodded. “Is there any more information about the blood mage? I heard a rumor that he was connected somehow to the Sokhali, and that the Empire—”
“A mage should not barter in rumors,” Padronis said, again cutting him off. “You should know, better than most, of the danger that can exist in careless words.” He deliberately softened his expression. “The matter is being dealt with. I urge you to leave it at that.” He bent down and picked up a fresh box from the pile, placed it on his chair. “Let us speak of more positive topics. I understand that you wish to study under me next term.”
“If you are still taking students,” Keric said.
“Oh, I do not intend to let my new assignment isolate me from teaching entirely,” Padronis said. “Although I would have thought that you would have preferred to remain with a master within your own discipline for your advanced work. Trying to become the first archmage in two hundred years?”
“Scroll magic is definitely enough of a challenge for me,” Keric replied. “But magical theory is universal. And… well, I think that the schools can be a bit too insular, sometimes. Maybe if we learned to work together better…”
“A wise sentiment,” Padronis said. He looked around at the remaining clutter and threw up his hands. “Ah, this isn’t going to get done any time soon. Come on, buy me a cup of tea, and tell me what brilliant discoveries you intend to make next term.”
* * *
It was well past last bell when Keric returned to the Quadrangle, alone. The University was never truly asleep, but at that late hour, closer to dawn than to the preceding sunset, the large open square was deserted, and only a few of the windows in the surrounding buildings were aglow with the light of spelled lamps.
Keric walked slowly to the Viewing Pool. The bleachers and platform that had been used during the final running of the Labyrinth competition were gone, dismantled and returned to storage, but there were still subtle signs of what had happened. It was hard to see in the darkness, but patches of sod had been removed and replaced. Keric had heard that the spots where the blood mage’s dark magic had touched had been utterly tainted; they’d even had to dig up and replace the dirt underneath the grass.
They’d left the fountain. There had been talk of tearing it down as well, but ultimately the governing council had elected to leave it. It now sat quiet and empty of water. Keric stopped before it, and stared down at the blank stone. There was no remnant of the blood mage, of course, but Keric shuddered as he thought of the man, and what he had done here. He had not been there during the battle, of course, but he’d spoken to a number of people who had witnessed the exchange, and its grim finale. When he and Marthek had reappeared next to the fountain, in all of the confusion, he’d never gotten a chance to look into the pool, to look at the body of the man who had tried to kill him. Who had succeeded in killing two of them, and crippling a third.
He stood there staring for a long time. Then, stirring as though waking from a dream, he reached into his tunic and drew out a scroll.
He unrolled the crisp new parchment, carefully spreading it on the flat stone lip of the fountain. It was too dark to read, but he had prepared for that in his working, and as he anchored the corners of the scroll with small pebbles he traced his fingers over the writing, whispering a minor incantation. The runes flared slightly and came alive with a gentle light.
He started to read. The words flowed from his lips in the same way that they had flowed from his pen onto the parchment. Magic was never easy, even for a skilled mage, but somehow this time the words had rushed out, as if they had been penned up inside him, eager and waiting to get out. He swayed slightly and felt a slight dizziness as he read, but he completed the spell. All focus magic, whether scroll or gem or amulet or blade, drew somewhat on the personal power of the mage, but Keric had delved deeper with this working. His tutors likely would have frowned upon this expenditure and the risks involved, but it was something he had felt he had to do. To purge the demons he had brought with him out of the Labyrinth, perhaps.
The disorientation passed as he finished his casting. The runes inscribed on the scroll flared in sequence and disappeared, and the other words below them, several lines of text that extended to the bottom of the scroll, likewise faded. That writing was mundane, not magic, but those words too had power. For him, if not for anyone else.
He carefully removed the pebbles and lifted the scroll. It was too dark to clearly read the writing that was now deeply incised into the stone, but Keric knew them by heart. The inscriptions perfectly matched the words he had written on the bottom of the scroll.
ASHANDRA HAEL AND TRAVE SARHUS
THEY GAVE THEIR LIVES SO THAT OTHERS WOULD LIVE
WE WILL NEVER FORGET
Rolling up the empty scrol
l and tucking it back into his pocket, the young mage turned and departed, leaving the Quadrangle quiet and empty again in his wake.
THE END
The Labyrinth Page 9