Their hesitation seemed to annoy Mako, for he gave a little growl. “Very well, then. Let us leave the Yerrins alone for now. But to search for Isra, I must start in the right place. Tell me what happened when I left you in Xain’s home—and I mean all that happened, with no detail added or left out.”
Ebon stiffened in fear, and saw it reflected in the faces of his friends as well. Mako saw it, and smiled as he settled down on one of the benches at the head of the table.
“This must be an interesting tale indeed.”
“As she fled, I tried to stop her,” said Ebon. “I missed her, but I got hold of the amulet. Kekhit’s amulet, the one she used to cast mindwyrd, and also to hide her magic.”
“I remember it,” said Mako. “What next?”
“When we ourselves tried to leave, she was there. She had Xain’s son, and she took him prisoner.” Ebon shuddered as he remembered the fear in the boy’s eyes, his whimpering cries as Isra dragged him away. “She tried to kill me, and Kalem as well, but Theren recovered and saved us.”
Mako’s eyes narrowed. “Why did you not give Theren the amulet? She could have stopped Isra, could she not?”
“I had not yet thought of that,” said Ebon sharply. Then he stopped, and his eyes went wide.
“Yet,” said Mako, his smile widening. “You had not yet thought of it. But you did think of it.”
Theren shook. “Darkness take you, Ebon.”
“He is trying to help,” Ebon told her. “We will do ourselves no favors by holding back. Yes, Mako, I thought of using mindwyrd. For when Isra fled, Dasko arrived. He is an instructor at—”
“I know the man,” said Mako. “And I think that now I know the rest of your tale. He found you before you could get out of Xain’s home, and you were holding the amulet. You thought he would expose you—and you were right to think it. So you gave the amulet to Theren, and she used her mindwyrd to make him forget you had been there.”
“Yes,” said Ebon. “You have it.”
Theren turned to hide her face. Kalem’s head drooped, and carefully he took a seat at the table opposite Mako. Ebon sighed. To speak the truth so plainly … it was a relief, and yet he wished it had been to someone other than Mako.
The bodyguard was studying his fingernails. He drew his knife and began to pick under one of them. “I am no wizard. Yet it seems I have heard something of mindwyrd—that if it is not maintained, it produces a sort of mind-sickness in the victim.”
No one answered him. Theren met Ebon’s eyes, and he saw how haunted her expression had become.
“I take it that your silence means I am right,” said Mako. “If that is so, you did not use mindwyrd upon Dasko once, and then let him be. You have been using it ever since.”
“We have,” said Ebon quietly. Theren turned away again.
“That is excellent,” said Mako. “Your new Dean Forredar has some knowledge of Yerrin. And Dasko will be close in Xain’s counsel, for he is a wise man and well respected at the Academy. Mayhap we can use Dasko to use Xain.”
“What?” said Kalem, straightening at once. “We will not use mindwyrd on Dasko to control him, but only to make him forget. Keeping his memory empty is one thing. Using him to accomplish our own ends …”
“I will not do it,” said Theren. She stormed up to the table and slammed her hands down on it. The heavy THOOM of the blow echoed around the hall, flitting about its many pillars. “I will not, and that is the end of it. He is like a puppet on strings, and I feel more of a monster every time I jerk them. Mayhap I do not suffer from magestone sickness, but this is its own kind of torture.”
“We will not use him for evil,” said Mako. His tone was gentle, as though he were persuading a wounded animal. “We will only collect information we cannot get ourselves. And that information could do great good. It could even save the life of the boy, Erin.”
“Erin could already be dead,” said Ebon. “He likely is. It has been weeks.”
“I know something of these matters,” said Mako. “One does not take a hostage if one does not intend to use them. And through Dasko, we could learn something that—”
“Stop saying that!” cried Theren. “Stop saying ‘we,’ when you mean me. We are not committing a crime—I am. We will not be put to death if this scheme is discovered—I will.”
“We are with you to the end, Theren,” said Ebon quietly. “We have been there every step of the way. If the King’s law learns of our dealings, we will not abandon you to die alone. And if you refuse this scheme, I for one will not argue against you.”
“We cannot do it,” said Kalem. “If we do, we are little better than those we hope to expose. Evil cannot defeat evil, but only strengthens it.”
Mako stood suddenly from the table, and his eyes had grown hard again. “This is not a council. My duty is to see to Ebon’s safety—and if you call him your friend, girl, then your duty is the same. The next time you use your power on Dasko, have him tell you what Xain knows of Yerrin, as well as anything he knows about where Isra went. I assure you, Dean Forredar will have been most earnest in his searching.”
Theren did not answer him for a moment, but looked to Ebon. He gave her a little shrug. “It is your choice.”
She sighed. “Very well. I will ask him—but I will not command him to go digging any further.”
Mako smiled. “Good enough, I suppose—for now. In that case, the three of you had better scuttle off back home. I have heard that curfew draws near.”
eight
THE STREETS HAD GROWN COLDER still, for the sun was almost gone. They hurried between the snowdrifts, moving quickly for warmth as well as for the lateness of the hour. Ebon waited until they had left the manor a few streets behind before he spoke to Theren.
“When I almost spoke of Lilith, you stopped me. Why?”
She gave a nervous look over her shoulder. “I wish you would not speak of her even now. I feel like that man has ears everywhere, even among us.”
“He is nowhere in sight, and I am no traitor,” said Kalem.
Theren sighed, and the frost of it whipped around her face as they hurried on. “I fear that if Mako knew of our closeness—well, my closeness—to Lilith, he might think of her as a target. Especially now that he is so interested in the doings of the family Yerrin. And I think that we have already put her through enough. We pursued her when she was innocent, and she was put to the question because of it. I wish to cause her no more harm.”
“I see that,” said Ebon. “Yet if Yerrin is truly a threat, and if they are behind Isra’s crimes, Lilith could be most helpful. She might even help us save Erin’s life.”
“You sound too much like your bodyguard,” Theren spat. “I thought you had no wish to be like the rest of your family, yet I hear their echoes in your words.”
“Leave Mako out of it, then,” said Ebon. “But we must stop Isra as quickly as we can. I have not forgotten the sight of Oren’s corpse—nor Credell’s, nor poor little Vali’s.”
“And do you think I have?” Her eyes flashed. “She has left a longer trail of bodies than that, though how can I blame you for remembering only the goldbags among them?”
Ebon stopped walking and squared his shoulders, looking her in the eye. “That is not fair.”
She glared back for a moment, but then she sagged. “I am sorry. I know you do not think of it that way. It is only … Ebon, I am frightened.”
“We all are,” said Kalem. He put an awkward hand on her arm. “Who knows when Isra will appear again?”
Theren shrugged. “Who cares for Isra? I am afraid for Dasko, and for the mindwyrd I keep him under. I am afraid for all of us, and what will happen if we are discovered. And I am afraid to use the mindwyrd to pry information from Dasko’s mind. I never wanted this power, and now I cannot stop using it.”
They stood a moment in silence. Then Ebon tossed his head. “Come. Time stops for no one.” They fell into step beside him. “I feel your fear as well. But we could at least speak
with Lilith. Mayhap she can help, and mayhap not. If not, we can leave it alone, and it will never reach Mako’s ears at all.”
She sighed. “Mayhap. Let me think upon it. It is no decision to make lightly.”
“Of course.”
They reached the Academy a little while later, and no sooner had they passed through the front door than the curfew bell rang. Theren redoubled her pace, making for the white cedar doors that led out to the grounds.
“I am almost late. I will see you both on the morrow.”
But Ebon increased his pace to keep up with her. “I will come with you.”
“And I as well,” said Kalem, who scampered along with them.
Theren did not stop moving, but she tried to wave them off. “There is no need. I can do it myself easily enough—I have the practice, certainly.”
“I told you, Theren. We are in this together.”
He caught the faintest quiver in her chin. “Very well,” she said, her voice wavering. “Thank you both.”
The grounds were as cold as the streets had been, but better lit, for the groundskeepers had already been around to kindle the lanterns. They went for the place in the hedges where they always met Dasko. He was there when they arrived, sitting by himself on a stone bench. Kalem waited at the entrance to the sitting area, standing just out of view where he could keep watch.
Dasko stood as soon as he saw them. Ebon stopped short. He had not seen the man in some time, a week at least. Something about him seemed … off. It was not just his face, which had grown a touch more gaunt, nor the grey at his temples, which seemed to have spread some little way into the rest of his hair. It was a weariness, a thinness, as though the instructor were only half there, and half an Elf-dream. But perhaps Ebon was only imagining that. So far as he knew, no one else had remarked on Dasko acting strange.
Theren reached into a pocket of her robe, and Ebon knew she was holding the amulet of Kekhit. “You will not remember that you have seen us here tonight,” she began. “You will return here tomorrow just before curfew, and remain until I come to see you. If anyone asks, you will not tell them why you are here waiting, but will invent some excuse.”
“Yes,” said Dasko, nodding. Ebon shuddered at the lifeless monotone in his voice.
Kalem and Theren had explained a bit to him in the days since they had first placed Dasko under control. Theren had thoroughly erased his memories of these meetings. If they released Dasko from mindwyrd, the danger was not that he would remember them—the danger was that there would be gaps in his memory, and he would start showing withdrawal from the control. That would prompt an investigation by the faculty, and that could lead to Ebon and his friends.
Their position seemed untenable. Often Ebon felt that they were drawing a blanket over an ever-widening hole in the floor, and hoping they would not get in trouble when some unwitting child fell into it and broke their neck.
Theren gave him an uneasy look. Ebon nodded at her. “It is your choice,” he said quietly.
She sighed and turned to Dasko. “Tell me what the Academy faculty knows of Isra’s reappearance.”
“We know nothing,” said Dasko. Again his voice made Ebon shudder. It was like hearing a corpse speak.
Theren shook her head. “Tell me what the Academy faculty suspects of Isra’s reappearance.”
“Most think Isra must be getting help from inside the Academy,” he said. “There will be an investigation to unearth anyone she may be using. We will look for anyone who shows signs of being under mindwyrd.”
Theren stiffened. Ebon’s heart leapt to his throat, and he spoke. “How would you find someone being held in mindwyrd?”
Dasko said nothing. Theren gave an exasperated sigh. “Tell me how you would find someone being held in mindwyrd.”
“There are sometimes gaps in the memory, for Isra would not want the victim to remember seeing her,” he said. “Therefore she would command them to forget the meeting.”
Ebon and Theren looked at each other. “If they question him, he could lead them to us,” said Ebon.
“Yes,” said Dasko, surprising them both by speaking without being prompted. “In fact Dean Forredar already strongly suspects you, Ebon.”
“Tell us who else suspects us,” said Theren.
“No one,” said Dasko. “Jia thinks Xain’s suspicion is paranoia, born of his hatred for Ebon’s family.”
“Still, we should do what we can to hide the effects of mindwyrd,” said Ebon.
Theren nodded. “I think I know how. Dasko, when you leave here tonight, you will remember being out upon the grounds, but you will remember it as if you were alone. You will remember speaking to no one, nor hearing anyone speak to you. You will remember all of our previous visits the same way—you have been visiting the grounds alone each night, on your own, and speaking to no one.”
“Yes,” said Dasko.
“Leave us now. Enter the Academy, and then forget.”
“Yes.” He left them, slipping out through the gap in the hedge.
Theren sank down onto the bench, her whole body going limp as though she had just run a mile. Ebon quickly took a seat beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. Kalem came in a moment later, his eyes filled with concern.
“I am sorry, Theren,” said Ebon. She looked exhausted. But when she lifted her head to look at him, he saw the weariness was in her eyes—a bone-sunk debility of the soul.
“It is wrong, Ebon,” she whispered. “This is wrong. I know it is, and yet I cannot stop. How can I go on, committing a new evil every night?”
“We are only keeping ourselves safe for now,” he said. “And we will come to a solution. I promise you. We will not rest until this is over.”
“Of course we will not rest,” she said. “I can barely even sleep these days.”
Ebon stood and held out his hand. She took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet. They made their way towards the Academy with arms over each other’s shoulders—not to remain upright, but merely for comfort.
Then they opened the white cedar door and nearly ran into Dean Forredar.
Xain stopped short just before they hit him, and though the children took a hasty step back, he did not move. He had eyes only for Ebon, and disgust burned in his gaze.
“Dean Forredar,” murmured Kalem.
“What were you doing out upon the grounds?” said Xain. “Curfew has been called.”
“It is not against the rules,” said Theren. But some of her usual fire had left her voice.
“It is cold out,” said Xain. “After an encounter like you all had last night, most students would wish to remain inside, where the danger seems less.”
“Are we in danger upon the Academy grounds?” said Ebon, meeting Xain’s stare. He was growing more and more fed up with the man’s unreasoning hatred of him. “Is it not your job to protect us? I seem to remember that you made such a pledge when you first came here.”
“It is my job to protect the Academy,” said Xain. “From threats within, as well as without. Sometimes it is hard to tell the difference—other times it is quite clear.”
Kalem quailed, but Theren drew herself up. “You have been wrong about such things before, Dean. Mayhap you see threats when none exist.”
Xain stared her down. For a moment Ebon feared they might come to blows, the way they had when Xain had attacked him in the dining hall. Then, without a word, the Dean stalked away.
“Darkness take him,” muttered Theren.
“He is a suspicious man,” said Kalem, shaking his head. “Yet who can blame him? These are dark times. Come. I am weary, and I suspect the two of you feel much the same.”
They made for the stairs, and then up to their dormitories to sleep.
nine
IN THE LIBRARY THE NEXT day, they reunited in their favorite spot on the third floor. The place was even darker than usual. That part of the library had never been very well kept, and now the faculty had suffered losses, so that many of the lantern
s stayed unlit. Kalem took one from the wall out in the main area and set it on the table beside them, so that they could read by its fiery glow.
But reading did not come easy. Ebon struggled to keep his mind upon the book in his hands, a weighty tome entitled The Conquering of Idris: A Telling of the Fall of the Tomb-Kings. Idris was his home, and he had thought the subject might hold his attention. But too often he caught himself staring off at nothing. It did not help that the book was written in a dry and informational style, with no attempt to make the events more interesting. Not that they needed much embellishment—the magic of the Tomb-Kings of old was well renowned, and well feared. His distraction was aided by weariness, and often his head drooped towards his lap. He had spent another sleepless night in the common room of his dormitory, dozing off only in little fits and starts.
After they had sat there for perhaps an hour, Theren gave a frustrated little growl and slammed her book shut. “Enough of this. I am through pretending to study, when all of us know we are doing nothing of the sort.”
Kalem looked up blinking from his book, shaking his head as though he had forgotten they were there. “Hm?”
“Well, except for Kalem, I suppose.” Theren folded her arms across her chest. “But I cannot even see the words on the page. Do neither of you wonder what she is waiting for?”
“Who?” said Kalem, eyes still foggy.
“Isra, of course, you idiot,” Theren snapped. “It has been two days since we saw her. Why has she not struck again?”
“I had not wondered, for I have been thinking about Erin,” said Ebon. “Where on all the Seat could she be hiding him?”
“There are many abandoned buildings upon the Seat, after the attack,” said Kalem. “Why, Mako himself took us to one of them.”
“But that is just it,” said Ebon, leaning forwards. “He must have searched out all such places by now. They would be the easiest to search. If Erin were in one of them, Mako would know something of it. Isra must be staying in some place where there are other people, and she can rely upon their secrecy to conceal her.”
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