by Tim Susman
“This is more important than Patris,” Emily said, and was about to go on, but Kip interrupted her.
“If I go to London.” Kip’s tail lashed back and forth. “Of my own accord. If I study with Master Cott. I’ve already got the things we discovered in the ruins. Then I’ll be out from under Patris’s eye and what’s more, I’ll be in London. He can’t claim I’m conspiring against the Empire there.”
“London?” Coppy said faintly. His whiskers twitched and he pressed his paws together.
“Are you serious?” Emily stood staring at Kip as though he’d suggested setting the basement on fire. “You can’t leave New Cambridge.”
“Not for forever,” Kip said. “Just until I learn—”
“What?” Emily demanded.
“Enough to be taken seriously as a sorcerer.”
She threw up her hands. “I’m sorry, was it another Calatian sorcerer sitting across from me while five important men as good as begged him to join their cause? How much more seriously do you want to be taken?”
Kip curled his tail to his side and looked down at his paws. “They have no idea of my abilities. I’m not good enough yet. I’d be no use in a war.”
“There might not be a war,” Coppy said faintly. Emily put an arm over his shoulder, hugging him.
“Of course there will be a war.” Kip matched Emily’s glare. “They all knew it. They paid lip service to the peaceful option, but they knew there would be a war. Everyone at that table did.”
“Which is why it’s so important that you help them.” Emily released Coppy and strode toward Kip, knocking papers out of the way.
“And what if we lose? If a Calatian sorcerer helps a rebellion, if all Patris’s fears come true, then what? What are the chances that another Calatian will ever be admitted again?”
“But if we don’t help,” Coppy said, “we might be missing the chance to write history. Kip, you already stepped out of line once to come up here. Why—why run away to England?”
“Because the risk is greater this time.” Emily stopped just a foot from Kip’s muzzle, her eyes bright. “Because his father isn’t here to support him and tell him it’s okay for him to do it.”
“I don’t need my father,” Kip snapped, and that brought back a whole wave of thoughts about being a calyx. “And I’m not running away. Not exactly.”
“But Kip.” Coppy came to his side. “Think of it. A new country! It could be so exciting.”
The fox pointed up at the ceiling. “Think about making this institution accept us, about forging a place in a society that’s been around for hundreds of years. Isn’t that more worthwhile?”
“It seems longer odds than winning a war, if you ask me,” Emily said.
“If we simply tear down structures every time we’re tired of them, where does that leave us?”
Emily’s face flushed. She took a step back and made a visible effort to control her voice, with the result that it came out rather cold. “You sound less and less like your precious Mr. Adams every day. I had hoped that the words of his own son would convince you, but if not even that will work then go ahead, go to London, be part of an empire that will always view you—and me—as less than full people.”
And with that, she disappeared into her room. The door would not close, but there was a thunk as she slammed a book to the floor.
Kip and Coppy both stared after her, and then Kip turned to the otter. “There’s nothing stopping you from joining their movement,” he said. “I want to stay with you, but this is bigger than the two of us.”
“I don’t want to end up fighting you,” Coppy said quietly.
“We wouldn’t have to.” But the prospect frightened Kip as well. He imagined himself on one side of a battlefield calling up fire, and watching as rocks flew at him from the other side, knowing that an otter was hurling them. What would he do in that case? “We’d refuse.”
“Better to be on the same side.” The otter’s whiskers rose as he smiled. “Anyway, they don’t want me. They want the fire fox.”
“They can want all they like,” Kip said with a look back at Emily’s room. And then, remembering the conversation they’d had coming back, he said, “By the way, how has Windsor been?’
The otter’s smile vanished. “What do you mean?”
So Kip told him some of the things Windsor had said. “And we don’t know how he knew we would be there. Was it just coincidence?”
“If you’re asking if I told him anything…” Coppy bristled.
“We know you wouldn’t,” Kip hurried to reassure him. “But has he said anything about the independence movement? Or about us? He seemed…even more sour than usual today.”
“Not that I recall exactly.” Coppy looked down at the floor. “We don’t talk about anything in particular at the lessons.”
Kip reached out to the otter. “The lessons are going well, aren’t they?”
“I suppose they are.”
“You don’t get intimidated by him anymore, it sounds like.”
“No, but…” Coppy scratched his cheek. “I sorta have the opposite problem.”
“Opposite?”
“Well, I do some spells with him, but…when I practice them on my own, I never seem quite as good at them as I was in the lessons with him.”
Kip frowned. “That’s good, though. Maybe you’re feeling the pressure and rising to the occasion.” He smiled. “If you need one of us to yell at you from time to time, let us know. I’m sure we can help.”
“No, no.” But the otter’s smile returned. “I’m sure it will all be fine. But Kip…do you really mean to go to London?”
“Coppy…” Kip sighed. He sat down, and Coppy sat beside him. “Emily won’t stop with the independence movement. Already Windsor knows something that could get me expelled. What if it’s Sharpe next time? Or Patris himself? They’re already afraid of a,” he spread his paws and indicated his body, “Calatian with powerful fire sorcery even when I’m on their side. Any excuse and Patris will expel me. In London I can learn from the only other fire sorcerer in the colleges, and I’ll be out from under Patris’s nose.”
“That’s true.” Coppy sighed. “But Kip…do you think this is a just cause, this independence?”
“What does ‘just’ mean?” Kip asked after a pause. “The way Farley attacked Calatian cubs, was that ‘just’? My parents being punished for my attendance here at the school, was that ‘just’? The question isn’t about what’s just. It’s about who has the power to do as they please. I’m lucky; I have a talent that people want. That gives me some power. The more I develop it, the more I’ll be able to right the wrongs of the world. Some of them, anyway.”
“I can see why you think that way.” The otter rested a paw on his knee. “But if all you’re after is power, you’ll be no better than Farley.”
Kip stared, and Coppy withdrew his paw. “I—I didn’t mean it like that. Of course you’ll be better than Farley. I meant that if—if you want power so you can do what you want—that’s—that’s just what they’re doing. Can’t you think about what’s right?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think is right until I can do something about it.” Kip smoothed his fur down and stared ahead at the phosphorus elemental. “Look, I pulled Neddy from his world to come here and heat our basement. Was that right? It was necessary.”
“You can do something about it now. You’re valuable enough that it matters what side you choose.”
“Not until I can study in London. And anyway…” He exhaled. “That’s part of the problem.”
“What?”
Kip looked beyond Neddy, seeing again the five men at the Inn. “They don’t want me. They want my abilities. I’m no more than a weapon to them. They offered me the prize of dignity and respect and equal status for Calatians in their new country, but how can they promise that? They are half a dozen men. Our town couldn’t even agree that it was a good thing for me to come here and study.”
“But if
Bryce Morgan had told them it was, I reckon they’d have got behind it,” Coppy said quietly. “That’s what leaders are meant to do.”
“All right.” Kip looked the otter full in the face. Coppy returned his look with earnest interest. “Do you think that all the humans in the Colonies will let Calatians own property and vote if Mr. John Quincy Adams says so? Is it that easy?”
Coppy exhaled. “It’s better than nobody saying so, isn’t it?”
Was it? Probably. But was it better than the alternative, building himself into someone who’d succeeded within the system, someone they couldn’t say no to? Better to depend on these men or to depend on himself? Nobody apart from Coppy had proven reliable in his life; even his father had kept secrets from him and then been forced to move to Georgia.
“All right,” he said. “You’re from London. Do you think the Colonies should be independent?”
“I’m not the one being asked,” Coppy said, whiskers lifting with a smile. “But I think if they want to be, they should. As long as they’re happy being part of Britain, that’s all well and good, but there’s a long way between here and there and it’s already different over here. I feel like I’m in a new country. So maybe it should be.”
“That makes sense, I suppose.” Kip rested his chin on his knee and exhaled. “Coppy, if I go with them, I have to leave the college. I can’t.”
“They came to talk to Patris, too. Maybe he’s thinking of joining the movement as well.”
“Hah.” Kip snorted. “That will be the day Farley declares his love for all Calatians.”
“Odden at least is invested in you,” Coppy said. “Why not see what he says?”
“Maybe I will.” Kip exhaled. “Thanks. It really does help to talk to someone about it, and I can’t talk to Emily.”
“She’ll come around.” Coppy smiled. “We’re all friends, right?”
Again Kip saw himself on one side of a battlefield, but this time arrayed against him on the other side stood not only Coppy, but also Emily and Malcolm. He would never be able to fight that battle. Maybe that would be the deciding factor, in the end.
7
Loyalty
Master Odden rolled the small glass bead around in his fingers. “Extraordinary,” he murmured. “You say it has a resonance with fire?”
Kip sat across from the master in his study, paws clasped in his lap. “Yes.”
“How does this resonance manifest?”
The fox shook his head. “When I smell it, I catch part of what I get with fire. And the demon said…”
“Oh, demons.” Odden scoffed.
“But Nikolon seemed genuinely afraid of it. She said that it was a part of her home world that had manifested in this one. Something like that.” He wanted badly to tell the sorcerer about Forrest’s memory, about the vision he’d sent Kip, but Peter’s warning and the light at the top of the Tower bound his tongue. Of course he knew that Odden’s office was here on the second floor, but what if there were a spare room, an empty laboratory?
“Hm.” The sorcerer’s bushy eyebrows rose and he looked at Kip from under them. “I have rarely seen demons afraid or worried. But we already suspected that the attack was the work of a demon. Now we know it was one with great association with fire, and one that leaves glass beads in the place of people.This may help in our research.”
The way Odden handled the bead as though it was some kind of token and not the actual remains of a person made Kip slightly queasy. But he sat up straight and said, “Would it be useful for Master Cott to look at it?”
“Oh, indeed it would.” Odden’s eyebrows lowered, though his eyes continued to hold Kip’s. “And I suppose you would like to be present to meet him.”
A shiver ran down Kip’s tail. “If you’d allow it.”
“Of course I will. But there’s another matter.” And now the eyebrows lowered further and the brow creased below his dark black hair. “The question of whether you will be continuing your correspondence with Mr. Adams.”
A rush of anger pushed Kip forward in his seat, but he restrained himself before he’d gone too far. “How—” Of course. “Windsor said he wouldn’t tell anyone,” he said through clenched teeth, heart racing.
“Master Windsor suggested, and I agree, that Headmaster Patris need know nothing about this, but as your master, he felt it important that I be informed.” Odden clasped his hands together and leaned forward. “I understand why you chose to keep this meeting private, and I hope you will trust that I shall not betray it to Patris. However, at the same time I am forced to acknowledge that Patris’s concerns about your loyalty to the Empire may have found some basis in fact. Should you continue your correspondence—”
“I haven’t corresponded with him at all,” Kip said. “That was Emily.” He shouldn’t have said her name, he realized, but he was still angry at Odden and Patris and at Emily, and giving her name was spiteful revenge. “I only went to the Inn to meet at his request, and I listened to him for fifteen, maybe twenty minutes, and then I walked back. Nothing more has transpired between us.”
“Do not interrupt me again.” Odden’s frown deepened.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Kip said.
“You are passionate. That is admirable. But do I have your assurance that you will have no further contact with Mr. Adams or any of his associates?”
Even though Kip had already been leaning in that direction, the prohibition from his master gave him hesitation. “Mr. Adams visited this college,” he said. “Others here are no doubt in contact with him.”
“Yes?”
“Why should I be singled out? Until I’ve made a decision—like everyone else here—about which side to be on, I’m loyal to the Empire.”
“You can hardly be loyal if you feel that there will be a decision to be made in the future. And the decision, if there is one, shall be made by the Headmaster of the College. The rest of us will follow his decree or leave the College. And,” he added, leaning forward, “whatever my decision, you will abide by that if you wish to continue our association.”
“Yes, sir,” Kip said, keeping his ears upright though he wanted to flatten them.
“So?”
The decision weighed on him. Of course he would be able to change his mind later, but Kip didn’t want to be the kind of person who went back on his word. And here, as he opened his mouth to agree to Master Odden’s condition, he was struck with a question: what if Adams and his men did succeed? They weren’t stupid; they were all older than he was and more experienced, and Adams’s father, at least, had been through one independence movement before. Wouldn’t they know if the time was right?
But then, Coppy had asked him, “what is right?” The indignities and suffering of Calatians was terrible, but promises were easy to make when negotiating for a weapon—and that was what Kip was to these people: a weapon. They weren’t interested in Coppy and were only somewhat interested in Emily, and that perhaps only because she was their way to get Kip.
Whereas here, Windsor had invoked Kip’s heritage; Odden had talked about gaining his trust. That was not something you asked of a weapon.
So Kip looked Odden back in the eye and said, “Would it satisfy you if I were able to study in London, with Master Cott?”
Surprise flitted over his master’s face, followed a moment later by amusement. “You feel you have already learned all I have to teach you?”
Kip’s tail flicked back and forth. He ticked off reasons on his paw for Odden. “You’re as uncomfortable with Pat—Headmaster Patris’s dislike of me as I am.”
“Perhaps not quite as much.”
“It’s not easy for you.” Kip held up a second finger. “It would prove my loyalty to the Empire to be studying in the capital.” A third finger joined the other two. “You yourself have said that Master Cott is the preeminent fire sorcerer in the Empire. Where better for me to learn my craft?”
Master Odden’s amusement faded as he absorbed Kip’s points. “Counter to your
logic, if Patris does not trust you, he may not think much of accelerating your study in such a powerfully destructive magic. And yet, mastering your gift for fire magic is of paramount importance, and Cott does live in the heart of London, where I imagine the independence movement would have a harder time reaching. Hum hum.”
Kip’s tail twitched faster as Odden pondered his proposal. Finally the sorcerer nodded, his beard bobbing up and down. “I will ask Master Cott, first. I do not believe he is currently teaching an apprentice. If he agrees, I will wait for the right time to approach the headmaster. In the correct mood, I do think your logic will prevail. If this is something you truly wish.”
“Yes,” Kip said. “I very much appreciate your instruction, but the situation here…Master Patris seems to dislike me more than he does Coppy, and Master Windsor is keeping Coppy away from him. I’m a target. We’ll both be safer if I’m elsewhere. Just for a little while. Until Christmas, perhaps. I do wish to remain your apprentice.”
“If you undertake this course of study, you may not be able to dictate the time of your return.” Odden’s eyebrows lowered.
“But I may come back to visit?”
“Most likely.” The sorcerer chuckled. “More likely if Miss Carswell’s studies progress as rapidly as yours.”
No sorcerer would be bothered to ferry a Calatian back and forth, Kip understood. He nodded once more, decisively. “I want to go to London.”
Two days later, when Master Odden told Kip he would be going to London, Kip thought he would be happy, but mostly his chest was flooded with relief. The idea that he could study fire without looking over his shoulder every moment, to be free of Farley and Patris…he didn’t know how much it had been weighing on him until the prospect of escaping it became real.
His friends, predictably, were not as excited. Coppy lowered his head and remained quiet, while Emily, and to a lesser extent Malcolm, tried to talk him out of it. Kip kept an ear to their conversation while he gathered his few things and set them on his bedroll.