The Academy Journals Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 3)

by Garrett Robinson

  “For some, I doubt it,” he said sadly.

  Theren must have misunderstood, for she patted his arm to comfort him and said, “Kalem will forgive you. He only needs time.”

  Ebon looked back at his food. “I do not know about that. He holds honor highest of all virtues. More so than you, and certainly more so than me.”

  “Do not be so certain. He values friendship greatly, as well. And you must remember, Ebon: before meeting us, Kalem had only a few friends. He gave himself to us fully, for we went through much together in the days before the attack. After that, to learn you did not trust him … but give him time, and I think he will understand why.”

  “It is not that I did not trust him! I only …” But he stopped and hung his head. How could he defend himself? If he had trusted them, he would have said something.

  The doors of the dining hall flew open, slamming into the walls on either side. Ebon turned his head to look, and his eyes shot wide.

  There in the doorway stood Oren, chest heaving, shoulders hunched together, hands formed to claws. His eyes were wild, scattered, searching everywhere. He was muttering something Ebon could not hear, growing ever louder until they could finally make out the words.

  “In my head, in my head. Cannot get her out. Always there, in my head. Always whispering.”

  At the head of the hall, the Instructors shot to their feet. Some began to come forwards. But Oren’s eyes finally fixed on Ebon, and he pointed with a shrill scream that stopped everyone cold.

  “You! You know! You know she did not do it!”

  Ebon’s mouth worked, but he could say nothing. Theren stepped around the table to stand beside him, her lips set in a grim line.

  “You know! You know she is in my head! Whispering!” Oren screamed.

  Then he flew into the air.

  Ebon flinched, for he thought Oren was leaping for him. But the boy had been hoisted up by his neck. He froze ten feet up, feet thrashing for purchase. A gurgling burst from his throat as he struggled for breath. For a horrible moment Ebon thought it was Theren acting in his defense. But her eyes were not glowing, and she looked just as frightened as he was.

  He seized her robes. “Look for the caster!” he hissed.

  She understood, and together they turned in a circle, searching for glowing eyes in the hall. But the press of students was too tight, and now they were milling about, some trying to get farther from Oren, others pressing closer in fascination. There was Nella, pushing forwards, trying to help her friend. Kalem stood frozen in horror. Isra could not take her eyes from Oren even as she dragged Astrea away—Astrea who wept silently, still numb, her face a dead mask. But nowhere could Ebon see the glow of magic in anyone’s eyes.

  But then came the instructors, now forcing their way through the crowd. They leapt forwards, hands high, and Xain was at their fore. He gritted his teeth, muttering words of power through them, fingers twitching as he sought to bring Oren down from the air. Instructors of mentalism and elementalism stood beside him, trying to dispel the force that held Oren aloft. Those instructors who could not help tried to control the students instead, some of whom had begun to panic. They were guided away from Oren’s swinging form, to the edges of the room and out of reach.

  “Get him down,” growled Xain. His blazing eyes swelled until they lit the space all around him like a burning sun. “Damn it, get him down!” Theren leapt to his side, unleashing her power to help.

  Oren jerked, moving towards the floor in fits and starts. But too late. All around the dining hall, cutlery flew into the air—knives and forks, all spinning in languid circles.

  Suddenly they tore through the room like a cloud of wasps. In a storm they struck Oren, impaling him in a thousand places. Some struck the students behind him who had tried to flee the hall.

  Then the magic ceased, and Oren slammed to the ground, his eyes staring sightless.

  Everyone began screaming at once—the students who had been struck, now lying on the floor with steel protruding from their skin, and all who had witnessed it, who now pressed for the dining hall’s door like a panicked mass of beasts. Perrin bellowed, trying to restore order and direct the flow of bodies by placing her massive frame in the way. Jia stared horror-struck at Oren’s corpse on the stone floor, but soon shook herself to awareness and helped the other instructors manage the frenzy.

  A hand seized Ebon’s collar and threw him back. It was Xain, eyes filled with malice.

  “He said you knew. What did he mean? Speak, or I will roast you.”

  “I know nothing,” Ebon choked. “I swear it!”

  Light blazed in Xain’s eyes, and blue fire sprang up around his palm. “Why did he name you?” he snarled. “The magic that killed him had the strength of magestones behind it. Where are they?”

  The dean was crazed. Blood filled the corners of his eyes, mayhap from the effort of trying to save Oren, or mayhap from pure rage. But then something struck Xain from nowhere, and he flew away. Ebon jumped, backing into a table. Theren stepped in front of him, eyes still glowing from the spell that had batted the dean away.

  Xain shot to his feet, eyes blazing with light. A gust of wind blasted from his hand—but Theren raised her hands to meet it. The spell stopped cold.

  She struck, and Xain was forced to take a step back. Gritting his teeth, he countered with a stronger gale. Again Theren batted him aside, the wave of her hand almost flippant.

  Then a brown shape seized the dean, and Ebon recognized it as Jia’s bear form. She turned partway back to human, but she kept her size, so that she stood many hands taller than him. Her body bulged with muscle, and she was taller and broader even than Perrin. She dragged Xain up until he was forced to stand on his toes, and when she spoke, her voice was a raging growl.

  “Master yourself, Dean. Ebon had nothing to do with this. Mentalism killed Oren. You must have felt that when you tried to stop it.”

  Xain’s breath heaved in ragged gasps. He stared her in the eyes before his gaze slid past her to Ebon. Even as he watched, the rage in the dean’s eyes cooled to ice—though that made it no less terrible, and in fact Ebon found himself more afraid than before. With a jerk, Xain threw off Jia’s hand and stalked from the dining hall.

  Most of the students were gone by now. Someone had fetched a tablecloth and covered Oren’s body. Slowly Jia resumed her natural form. She stared at the bloodied cloth on the ground for a moment before going to Ebon. He met her eyes and saw sympathy within them.

  “Are you all right, Ebon?”

  He nodded weakly. “He did not harm me. Not in truth.”

  She shook her head slowly. “You did not deserve that. But in addition to his … relationship with your family, the dean has a particular distaste for those who would use magestones. It does not excuse his conduct, though it may help you to understand it.”

  Ebon’s eyes were fixed on the cloth covering Oren’s body. “What happened to him?”

  Jia only shook her head. But Theren spoke softly. “It was mindmagic. I could sense it, but I could do nothing to stop it. It was power like I have never felt—not only strong, but somehow corrupt. If it is true what Xain said, that that was the strength of magestones, then I now know why they are such a great evil.”

  “I searched for the black-glowing eyes,” said Ebon. “But I could not see them. No one was casting a spell upon him, save you and the others who tried to save him. Certainly I saw no black magelight. The murderer must have been skulking out of sight. Mayhap they were outside in the hallway, or in a nearby room.”

  Scowling, Theren shook her head. “That is not how mentalism works. It needs line of sight. The murderer was in the room. You must have missed them in the crowd.”

  Jia looked just as frustrated. But then she froze, and a look of horror fell across her face.

  “Instructor? What is wrong?” She did not answer, and terror bloomed in Ebon’s breast. “Jia?”

  At last her eyes found him. He saw her tears welling forth.
/>   “Lilith,” she whispered, and then turned to bolt for the door.

  Ebon and Theren looked at each other for half a heartbeat, and then ran after Jia as fast as their legs could carry them.

  IT TOOK SOME TIME TO secure Lilith’s release. Jia’s friend was not there, and at first the other Mystics would not take her word. They said that Lilith was held on the command of the dean, and only his command could release her. She had to send a messenger to get a letter from Xain. At first she wanted to send Theren, but the girl refused to leave the prison until Lilith left it as well. Then she wanted to send Ebon, but quickly thought better of that.

  At last a messenger was sent, and one as well to the family Yerrin. Lilith’s parents arrived first—both of them merchants in fine green cloth trimmed with silver, whose faces were a heartbreaking blend of sorrow and relief. Theren greeted them awkwardly, and introduced Ebon—but they had little attention for anything other than the door leading to the jail cells. So Ebon and Theren stood off to the side, trying not to look at the Yerrins.

  “I forgot to thank you for helping me in the dining hall,” Ebon muttered after a while.

  “Think nothing of it,” said Theren. “Xain was wrong to act as he did.”

  “Wrong or not, you were glorious,” said Ebon, shaking his head. “I knew something of your strength. But to defeat the dean himself so easily …”

  She shrugged. “Likely he withheld his strength. He did not wish to harm me, but only to get through me so he could reach you. He did not even unleash flame.”

  Ebon gripped her shoulders and turned her to face him. “You are a boastful person by nature, Theren, and only modest when you know you have no reason to be. It does not suit you. You may have saved my life, and we both know it. Accept my thanks.”

  Her jaw tightened as she fought a smile. “Still your flapping lips, Ebon. You are so dramatic.”

  He sighed and shook his head before pulling her into an embrace. She did not return it, but neither did she push him away.

  When Xain’s decree finally arrived, it was delivered by none other than Nella, who greeted Ebon with a stiff nod.

  “I heard what was happening and insisted on bringing this myself,” she said.

  “We came as quick as we realized the truth.” Ebon looked away, for he felt too ashamed to meet her eyes. “It was our fault this happened to her in the first place.”

  Nella did not seem to want to look at him, either. “This is the second time you have proven yourself to be not entirely a bastard.” He gave her a quick look, but saw her wearing a small smile, which he easily returned.

  After reading the letter, the Mystics sent two constables into the prison to fetch Lilith from her cell. They all had to wait far longer than made sense to Ebon—surely the prison could not be so vast that it took this long to fetch her.

  But when Lilith finally arrived, he thought he understood better. She could barely walk, and was mostly carried by the constables who held her arms. She looked far worse than the last time he had seen her—the swelling in her face had receded, but black bruises remained, splotching her already-dark features like grisly birthmarks. The cuts on her hands and limbs had multiplied, and her lips were bone-dry and cracked. The fireplace lighting the station’s front room cast her face in hideous shadows and made her look like a demon of the darkness below.

  Jia and Lilith’s parents moved to help. But Theren was faster. She seized Lilith with a piteous cry, wrapping her arms around the girl in a tight embrace. Lilith’s arms fumbled and grasped, as though she could not see Theren and was trying to feel for her presence. But once her arms were draped over Theren’s shoulders, she held her tight as she could, and tears leaked from her wild, wandering eyes.

  “Forgive me,” Theren murmured into her shoulder. “Forgive me, please, for I will never forgive myself.” Lilith’s eyes still stared into an unknowing distance, but her fists tightened on Theren’s cloak.

  Then Lilith’s parents were there, and they helped the girls hobble awkwardly towards the door. Jia stood back so as not to intrude. As they passed Nella, Lilith reached out a tentative hand, and her friend gripped it tight. But Lilith would not release her hold on Theren.

  Before they stepped out into the cold, Lilith’s parents helped her into a cloak, lined with fur to protect against the chill. It seemed Lilith hardly noticed them as they put it on. But just before they led her outside, she blinked and looked around. Her eyes rested first on Theren, and then on Nella.

  “Where … where is Oren?” she croaked.

  Everyone was deathly silent. Tears streamed from Jia’s eyes, though her face did not twitch.

  Ebon stepped forwards, unable to meet Lilith’s gaze. “Oren fought for you,” he murmured. “He never believed—not for one second—that you were guilty. He gave his life trying to make the rest of us see it. I wish I had listened sooner.”

  Lilith’s eyes filled with tears. Her hands twitched, as though she were grasping for something that was not there. Her parents bowed their heads and then went to help her outside. But she seized at Theren all the more tightly. “No,” she whimpered. “No, no, no. Do not make her leave me. Do not make her leave me alone.”

  Theren met their stares. One after the other, they nodded. And so Theren was the one to help Lilith out to the street where a carriage waited for them. She climbed in with Lilith, soon followed by her parents. As the driver readied the horses, Theren thrust her head out the carriage window.

  “I will return soon.” She held out a hand, and Ebon gripped it tightly. “Keep yourself whole.”

  “I will,” said Ebon. “See to her.”

  Theren nodded. The driver switched the horses, and the carriage set off down the street, leaving Jia, Nella, and Ebon to watch it go. Once it was out of sight, Jia turned to them.

  “Now we should return, for there are many in the Academy who still need our help.”

  Nella nodded and set off down the street. But Ebon stayed where he was, staring at his feet. Jia cocked her head at him, waiting until he met her eyes.

  “If it is all right, Instructor, I would rather not return just yet. I feel the need to stay in the open air a bit longer. To clear my head.”

  She studied him long enough to make him wonder if she knew the truth of his mind. At last she nodded. “Very well. Only do not stay out past your curfew.”

  “Thank you, Instructor.”

  She gave a final nod, and then went off to follow Nella back to the Academy.

  Ebon turned his steps west, seeking the blue door.

  Though she greeted him with startled delight, Adara could see at once that something was wrong. She drew him to her room as quickly as she could. He tried to give her a smile, but it was a broken thing. She sat him at the edge of her bed and held his hand.

  “What is it? What is wrong?”

  “There has been another murder,” Ebon managed to whisper.

  Her brow furrowed. “I thought Lilith had been caught.”

  “Lilith was not the murderer.”

  “Oh.” It was a tiny sound, full of understanding. “Do you wish to speak of it?”

  “Yes.” But then he said nothing.

  She waited a moment before tracing a finger along his neck. “Do you wish to do something other than speak?”

  That made him smirk. “Not just now.”

  “Refusing me again? You might as well save your coin, for I fear you waste it by visiting me here.”

  He lifted her fingers to his lips, planting a tiny kiss on each in turn. “I never waste my time when I spend it with you,” he murmured. She smiled and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

  “Come, then. Lovers know many arts.” She had him slide down to the floor, resting on the soft rug, and then sat on the bed behind him. With her fingers she kneaded at the muscles of his shoulders and neck, working out the knots. He moaned at the skill of her hands, rolling his head back and forth in pleasure.

  For some time they sat like that, Ebon enjoying her ministra
tions. With each kink smoothed, he felt his worries lessen in strength. Yet they would not vanish entirely.

  The Academy must be a madhouse now, he thought. When he realized the truth, freeing Lilith had seemed the only important thing in all the nine lands. But now the Academy had a murderer on the loose yet again. He could not stop seeing Oren’s body sprawled on the dining hall floor beneath a blood-spattered cloth.

  “Lilith’s cousin. A boy named Oren. He nearly scuffled with us in the tavern. Do you remember?”

  “I do.”

  “It was he who was killed. He was hoisted in the air before the entire Academy and nearly throttled to death. Then the killer struck him with a flurry of knives.”

  Her hands stilled for a moment, and he heard her gasp. “That is awful. But that means you must have caught the murderer, have you not? Everyone would have seen the culprit.”

  Ebon shook his head. “They remained hidden. How, we do not know. And now Lilith weighs like an anvil on my conscience.”

  Adara lifted a hand from his shoulder to stroke his hair. “You did what you thought was right, Ebon. You were not the only one who thought you saw her kill a child.”

  He shook his head. “She was put to the question. I saw what the Mystics have done to her. It may have driven her mad. Yet this whole time, she was never to blame.”

  “Nor were you. Your friends acted the same. Do you blame them?”

  Ebon barked a sharp, bitter laugh. “I could not if I wanted to.”

  She scooted over and leaned down to look at him. “What do you mean?”

  “I told them, Adara. Of Cyrus, and the truth of what happened when the Seat was attacked. Kalem has not spoken to me since.”

  Fear shone in her eyes. “Ebon, that may not have been—”

  He shook his head. “He will not tell anyone. And Theren does not think I did anything wrong.”

  Adara snorted. “That sounds like Theren. But Kalem is royalty.”