He returned to the dormitories and sat long in the common room, brooding as he stared into the fire. Astrea did not act like one under mindwyrd—not exactly. But something strange was happening to her. And the last time Ebon had seen Academy students and faculty acting odd, it had been because of Isra, and then the killing had begun. He could not let that happen again.
Mako did not see him that evening, but Ebon thought he would hear from the bodyguard the next day. Night came, however, without word. And then most of the next day went by, and still there was no sign. Ebon spent most of the day scowling, and his mood was not improved when he went out upon the grounds at lunch, and found that his letter was gone from beneath the alabaster. So Mako had received his message, and had not come to see him, or left any message in reply. That made him irritable during their time in the library. At last Theren snapped her book shut and glared at him.
“Ebon, you are simply insufferable. I never thought I would say this, but if you cannot study in peace, go and take yourself somewhere else so that we may.”
Ebon knew he was in the wrong, and so he apologized and promised to be less grim. But that only meant he sat in silence while they read, and did not answer when spoken to, and so it was hardly better. The moment the day’s last bell rang out, Theren leapt up and threw her book on the table between the three of them.
“I am taking you out,” she said. “To some tavern, where wine and supper may ease your mood.”
“We cannot go,” said Ebon, aghast. “What if Gregor and his men are lurking outside the citadel?”
“Let him try to hurt you, or any of us,” snapped Theren. “I have a mighty need to use my magic upon someone who deserves it in all its strength.”
So he let her drag him and Kalem out into the streets, where they made their way to Leven’s tavern close by, and soon had lost themselves in a bottle of wine. And just as Theren had promised, Ebon soon found his mood improved tremendously. After a time he held his cup aloft, thrusting it towards Theren as if in toast.
“To my good friend Theren,” he proclaimed. “Who knows me for a happy drunk. And darkness below take Mako, anyway.”
“Darkness below,” said Theren, raising her own cup.
“That is a bit strong, I fear,” said Kalem, joining them in the toast. “But I will drink regardless, for good wine makes up for dark words.”
“It depends on the darkness of the words, and the strength of the wine,” said Mako.
Ebon nearly spit up his drink. The bodyguard had appeared at the head of their table as if by magic. He pushed Ebon hard, to make room, and then took a seat on the bench. Across the table, Kalem and Theren were staring—and after a moment, Ebon realized why. Mako had a nasty bruise under his left eye, and the black sleeves that now covered his arms had wet spots. They could have been water, Ebon supposed, but a voice in his mind whispered blood instead.
“Have you met your match in some barroom brawl, Mako?” said Theren. “That seems no great surprise—you have always been boastful, and such pride often precedes downfall.”
“Shut your flapping lips before I gut you,” growled Mako. “I am in no mood for jests tonight, especially after you have disobeyed my order and left the Academy.”
Theren almost replied, but Ebon silenced her with a stern look. He leaned close and lowered his voice. “What has happened? Have you found … him?”
“I have,” said Mako.
“And is that what happened to … to you?” said Kalem, pointing to his face.
Mako sneered. “No, goldshitter. It is only that I prefer a very particular sort of lover, and have just come from his company.”
Kalem blinked. Ebon frowned. “You said you were in no mood for jests. Nor am I. I left you word, but have not heard from you.”
“I gave you a way to reach me when you had information of value,” said Mako, glaring at him. “That does not mean I come to heel at your call. I obey Halab’s orders, not yours.”
“What have you come for, then?” said Ebon. “What happened when you—”
Mako’s hand darted forwards like a snake, closing over Ebon’s mouth and lower jaw. “Be. Silent. That is what I have come here to tell you, but you have yammered on like starved puppies since the moment I sat.”
“Unhand him,” said Theren. A glow sprang into her eyes. “Or I could make you, if you wish.”
The bodyguard glared at her for a long moment, and Ebon’s pulse thundered in his ears. Then Mako’s fingers loosened, and his hand withdrew.
“I found Gregor, indeed,” said Mako, in a voice as calm as if nothing had happened. “In the bowels of the sewers, just where your lover said he would be. But Isra is there, too, and we …” He scowled. “With her strength added to Gregor’s, I need magic to vanquish her. Your magic.” He pointed at Theren.
“You need us?” said Theren, arching an eyebrow. “Have the High King declare a holiday, for the impossible has come to pass. Mako has asked for help.”
Mako slammed a fist down on the table, so hard that their cups, which were thankfully empty, overturned. “I lost two soldiers tonight,” he snarled. “The black-eyed bitch killed them. So spare me your smug tone. You have the amulet, and can be useful, so useful I will make you.”
Theren looked around to ensure no one was close enough to overhear. “I have no wish to use the amulet openly,” she said. “We know the faculty are hunting for it. What if we are discovered?”
“We will not be,” said Mako. “I mean to summon the constables and Mystics upon Yerrin, but not until we have done our business first. Until that happens, Yerrin wishes the presence of the King’s law even less than we do.”
Theren dropped her gaze to her fidgeting fingers. “Very well,” she said with a sigh. “Only let us be quick about it.”
Ebon nodded. “Very well. Mako, when can we move?”
“Not we,” said Mako. “Or at least, not you.”
That made them stop. “What do you mean?” said Ebon. “I am not staying behind.”
“You certainly are, you damned fool,” said Mako. “How many times must I tell you that my duty compels me to protect you?”
“I will not let my friends—or you—go into danger while I sit here in safety,” said Ebon firmly.
Theren shook her head. “I can look after myself well enough. You will be no great help in a fight, Ebon—forgive me, but it is true.”
“I know it, and I know, too, that you are most capable. I will not go because the two of you need me. I will go because it is my duty, or at least I call it so—and what else is duty, after all?”
“The same goes for me,” said Kalem. “And you cannot tell me to stay behind, if you bring Ebon, for I might actually be able to help you. Meaning no offense, of course, Ebon.”
Ebon waved it off. “It is decided, then. When do we mean to move?”
Mako glared at him—but he must have seen the resolve in Ebon’s eyes, for after a moment he sighed. “You will obey my every order, no matter what,” he said. “If I tell you to run, you will run, even if you abandon me. If I tell you to hide, you will hide.”
“I swear it,” said Ebon. “When?”
“Now.”
At that they balked, even Ebon. “Now?” he said. “This moment?”
“Yes,” said Mako. “I have only just come from a fight with Yerrin soldiers. They will redress their defenses—they may even move their activities to some other dark hole, now that we know where they are. If it is not tonight, it will be never. Are you ready?”
Ebon swallowed hard. “We are.”
“Very well,” said Mako, standing from the table. “Do not make me regret this. Let us go.”
twenty-three
MAKO LED THEM DOWN THE street and off to a side alley, until they encountered a tall gutter where a large gap led into the sewers below. He dropped to the floor and slithered into the opening like a serpent. Ebon felt a moment’s trepidation, but Theren followed the bodyguard without pause, and after a moment he did the same.
He dropped the few feet to the floor and landed easily enough, and then he reached up beside Theren to help Kalem, for the boy’s legs did not reach nearly so far into the darkness as theirs.
Though they were beneath the streets, the fading light of day still did much to illuminate the way before them, for it came through the drain holes and bounced from the light grey stones that formed the walls. Thus they were able to make their way quickly to the west where Gregor had been spotted. Ebon was grateful that this part of the sewers had platforms running along the water. The last time he had gone beneath the streets, there had been no such walkway, and so he and Mako had slogged through the muck. Now he still had to smell it, but he did not have to feel it sinking into his boots.
“How do you know where you are going?” said Kalem.
Mako did not even glance at the boy. “The sewers form a vast and intricate labyrinth—that is how Yerrin could be so busy within them without my knowing it. They are even more vast than the streets of the city itself, for there are many levels built atop one another, and each level stretches as far as the island. But there are different areas, and any who spend much time down here learn to stay close to their own territory. We rule all the levels to the northeast. The Yerrins have claimed the second level to the west. And I know we are going west because of the compasses.”
He stopped at an intersection, and the children skidded to a halt behind him. He went to the right-hand passage and stood tall, placing one hand on the top of the tunnel. There Ebon saw an N had been drawn. He looked across the way and saw an S drawn over the opposite tunnel, and just above him was an E. The way they were going, a W had been scratched. They were dug shallow in the stone, but unmistakable all the same, if one knew to look for them.
“Clever,” said Theren, sounding impressed despite herself.
“That is one thing you should always keep in mind, children,” said Mako. “Scholars and those who write books often hide knowledge in pretty phrases and dust-covered parchment, for they wish to have it all to themselves, and thus earn the worship of common folk. But those who build, and make, and do—they make knowledge as plain as they can, and put it in plain sight, hoping to help others who come after. The artisans who built these sewers wanted them to be useful, not mysterious.”
“Yet they hold a mystery nonetheless, and conceal many dark deeds besides,” said Ebon, thinking of Matami.
Mako shrugged, his wide smile growing cruel. “Well, they may have intended one thing for their creation—but they bequeathed it to us, and we have made of it what we wish. Enough philosophy for now. We are moving too slow.”
He stalked onward, and they had to run to keep up with him. Mako did not relax his pace, no matter the distance they covered, and not even when he stopped them and led them down an iron ladder built into the wall. Theren seemed to have no difficulty keeping up with him, but soon Ebon and Kalem began to flag, wheezing and huffing as they stumbled along in the now-dark passage.
“Hurry yourselves, goldshitters,” said Mako, growling. “Yerrin may have defeated me once, but they will not rest easy this night, and have likely already sent for more guards. The longer we take to reach them, the harder the fight we will find waiting for us.”
“I am doing my best,” said Kalem, who was panting even more heavily than Ebon. “Only I am not used to such exertion.”
Theren and Mako snorted in unison, and then gave each other an uneasy look before pressing onward.
It was not so long after that before Mako stopped in his tracks, holding up a hand for the rest of them to do the same. Ebon pressed himself against the wall, as did Kalem, but Theren stepped up beside Mako, body tense, eyes peering eagerly into the darkness.
“Silence your huffing and heaving,” Mako whispered. “I am trying to listen.”
“Do you want me to stop breathing entirely?” said Kalem between gasps.
Mako glared at him, and Kalem’s mouth snapped shut. He and Ebon did their best to still their heaving chests.
At long last Mako stepped forwards again, the tension vanishing from his posture. “It is one of mine. We need not fear—at least not yet.” He led them forwards, and in a moment a shadow detached itself from the wall and came forwards.
“The wagon has pressed on,” said a voice, emanating from the shadow. Ebon thought, for some reason, that it sounded familiar. He peered closer, and saw beneath the hood the same woman he had encountered on the streets, the one who had saved him from Gregor. She glared at him with her one good eye, and then frowned at Mako.
“What is he doing here?”
“Do not worry about them,” growled Mako. “Only tell me where the wagon has gone.”
“West, the same way they were headed,” said the woman. “I think the witch left it at some point, but I did not wish to draw too close to make sure.”
“Of course not. Well done,” said Mako. “Now return to the surface. I will doubtless send you a message soon, and you must act quickly when I do.”
“I can stay,” she said fiercely. “Let me fight.” But suddenly her body gave a shudder, and she slumped against the wall. Ebon saw that one of her hands was pressed tight to her side, and he saw a dark liquid staining her fingers.
“No more battles for you tonight,” said Mako. “Do as I say, or I will give you a bruise to go with that scratch.”
“Then at least we would match,” she said, and grunted out a pained laugh. She held forth a hand, and she and Mako seized wrists before drawing each other close for a one-armed embrace. Before she could go, Ebon took a step forwards.
“Thank you,” he said. “For saving me. The other night, I mean.”
She glared at him. “A fool’s gratitude is of little worth.”
Then she stepped into the shadows and vanished.
“Who is she?” said Ebon. “Her name, I mean. I did not get to thank her before—or I did not think of it.”
“She is Talib,” said Mako, “and has been my pupil for many years. She has saved your skin more times than you know—certainly more than the one time you saw her doing it. Come. We are not far now.”
He crept forwards, so that Ebon and Kalem no longer had to struggle to keep up—but while his footsteps were quiet as a shadow, and Theren, too, moved muffled and silent, Ebon’s and Kalem’s steps now seemed horribly loud, and Ebon winced every time his toes caught upon a crack in the stone with a scuffling noise. Mako glared back at him once or twice, and though he said nothing, Ebon’s face burned with embarrassment each time.
But then all such thoughts were banished, for ahead they saw the orange glow of a torch, and far off, Ebon could hear the creaking of wagon wheels, a sound as familiar to him as his own breath. Too, there were tramping boots, and they moved quickly, not at some easy walking pace. Whoever accompanied the wagon, they knew they were pursued, and were making good time to escape. But not good enough, clearly, for the noise quickly grew louder.
Soon they saw the wagon: it rolled along with a deep rumble, pulled by two Yerrin guards in green cloaks, holding spars that stuck out from the front of it. Three more guards accompanied the cart, walking behind and to either side of it. Two of these held torches, lighting the way forwards.
“Fools,” muttered Mako, after he had let them draw a bit ahead and out of sight. “Those torches may show them where they are going, but also serve to make the procession easy to see. And they will not spy us until we are almost upon them.”
“What is in that wagon?” said Kalem, eyes wide with fright. “Are they moving magestones?”
“No,” said Mako. “Only supplies, to feed and care for the crew of a ship, that will soon launch from their hidden dock. But upon that ship there are magestones, and Yerrin means to send them out across the nine lands. That is not our chief worry tonight, though. Tonight we hunt for Gregor, and mayhap Isra.”
“I am more worried about Isra than Gregor,” said Ebon.
“Yet you are not in command here, and should not even have come,” said Mako, glaring at
him. “Therefore your worries are of no consequence.”
“Well, what do we mean to do now?” said Theren. “I did not see Gregor among the guards—unless the tales of his size and strength are only exaggeration. And Isra certainly was not there.”
“Yet we should stop that wagon all the same,” said Mako. “Anything to disrupt the family Yerrin and their criminal activities is a gift to the High King.”
Kalem nodded solemnly, clearly missing the joke; Ebon rolled his eyes at the thought of Mako risking life and limb to uphold the King’s law. But Mako was right in any case—to reach Gregor and Isra, they would have to get through the wagon guards. “What do you mean to do?”
Mako grinned at Theren. “Do you wish to show off that magic of yours, girl?”
Theren smiled in return.
In a few heartbeats Mako outlined the plan, and they ran forwards again in the darkness. When they came to the next corner, Ebon and Kalem stopped while Mako and Theren pressed on. They saw a flash of light as Theren’s eyes glowed, for she did not bother to hide it with the amulet, and then she burst around the corner beside Mako.
The cart flipped over, slamming to the stone floor upside-down, its contents spilling all over. The wheels flew off, each one striking a guard to either side. They fell with pained cries, their torches falling into the passing flow of water and waste. The guards floundered in the sudden darkness, reaching for blades at their waists—but too slow. Theren struck again, and invisible bands of force picked them up, slamming them into the wall. Their faces were pressed into the stone, so that they could not see behind them.
“Boys,” growled Mako.
Ebon and Kalem ran forwards at once. The light in the tunnel increased as they reached for their magic, and then together they pressed their fingers to the stone. It flowed out and around the guards, wrapping around their wrists and ankles in bands so that they were held in place. In a moment it was done, and all three of the children released their hold on their magic. The tunnel was plunged into darkness again. They waited for their eyes to adjust to the small shafts of moonslight from above.
The Firemage's Vengeance Page 15