“It must be some magic,” muttered Kalem, shaking his head. “Some dark magic, a spell unknown to us. Mayhap it is some ability granted to her by one of the artifacts she stole. I should have thought of that. Mayhap we could have searched the vault logbooks for a clue, but that chance has passed us by.”
Ebon froze where he stood.
“Dark magic,” he whispered.
Kalem arched an eyebrow. “Ebon? What is it?”
“Darkness take me. Kalem, I have been an idiot. We all have. And we must go. Now.”
“Now?” said Kalem, incredulous. “Where?”
“To the Academy.” Ebon gripped his shoulders and gave him a little shake. “Kalem, she is in the vaults. Isra is in the vaults.”
Kalem’s eyes shot wide. “Sky above,” he whispered. Then he stammered, “We—we should summon Mako, or—or, I do not know, we should find help. Somewhere. We cannot go alone.”
“When next we see Mako, it will be tomorrow night, and he will try to take me from the Seat,” said Ebon. “Tomorrow during the day, we cannot sneak in and find her. We can only do it now, when most of the students and faculty will be abed.”
“I … er …” Ebon could see the fear in the boy’s eyes.
“Think of Theren, Kalem,” said Ebon quietly. “If we stop Isra—now—we can save Theren. Mayhap even tonight.”
Kalem’s eyes hardened, and he gulped. “Very well,” he said, quiet but firm. “Let us go.”
Ebon nodded, then went to Adara. He took her by the shoulders and kissed her. “I promise I will return,” he said.
Her jaw set in a firm line. “Do not make promises you cannot keep,” she said. “Promise me instead that you will be careful, for that I know you can do.”
“I promise it, then,” he said. “I love you.”
“And I you.”
He took Kalem’s arm, and fled out the door with him into the night.
thirty-seven
EBON WAS THANKFUL FOR THE lateness of the hour as they ran through the streets of the Academy. He and Kalem were in regular clothing, given to them by Adara, and not in their Academy robes. But he was still wary of being recognized, and had pulled his hood as low over his face as he could. That, combined with the shadows that filled the streets, would hopefully hide his face from any curious constables or Mystics.
The cold night had driven most people indoors, and so Ebon and Kalem found the streets almost clear as they went. Soon they had reached the Academy—but Ebon passed the front door by, and ran around to the side, where the scorched cleaning sheds sat against the wall. He entered the one where he knew Mako’s hidden entrance lay, and once Kalem had followed him inside, he closed the door behind them both.
“We must use Mako’s passageway,” he said. “Though I do not know how to open it, I know it is through this wall. Let us shift the stone and open the way.”
Together they put their hands against the wall, where Ebon knew the door would open up for them. Ebon reached for his power, and the shed brightened as a glow sprang into his eyes. He saw the glow in Kalem’s face as well, and together they pushed at the granite of the wall.
But nothing happened.
Ebon strained, trying to see into the stone. There it was, just as any stone or other substance he had ever shifted. Yet, when he tried to command it with his magic, it would not move. And furthermore, he felt the connection to his magic slipping away. Soon the glow faded from his eyes, and he loosed a breath he had not known he was holding.
“I cannot move it,” he said. “Why?”
“Enchantments,” said Kalem. “Of course. The Academy is protected by many spells. I have never tried to shift the stone of the walls, so I did not know they were protected from it—but it makes sense. Otherwise any transmutation student could slip in and out at will.”
“We must find the regular way to open it, then,” said Ebon. “Perhaps it is a stone to be pushed …”
They ran their hands along the stones, pushing on each in turn. But none moved. The wall remained solid. Ebon gave a frustrated growl and slapped the granite.
“A fine start to this adventure,” said Kalem. “Should we try to sneak in through the front door?”
“No,” said Ebon. “We will be spotted at once. Give me a moment to think.” Then he snapped his fingers. “When you place your magic upon an object, you can see it, can you not? What if you extend your magic into the object? Can you search for a secret latch, or a lever, that way?”
“I can try,” said Kalem doubtfully. Magelight glowed in his eyes again, and he ran his fingers along the wall. His lips pursed, and his brow furrowed. “Is that … here.”
His fingers slipped into a seam between two stones, and Ebon heard a click. Silently, the door swung out towards them.
“Ha!” whispered Ebon. “Mako will spit with fury if he ever learns that we know his secret.”
“For that to happen, we would have to survive,” said Kalem with a sigh. “I am not optimistic.”
“Still your tongue, doomsayer,” said Ebon. “My plan has been forming all the way here. Now keep your hand on the wall to our left, and probe it with your magic. We must follow the passage until we find the other door.”
It was utterly dark within the wall, except for the pale glow of Kalem’s eyes. Fortunately there was nothing there to run into, but it was still an unnervingly tight passage. They walked on, Ebon studying the stone to their left, hoping the lever or latch would be easier to see here, on the inside.
After a while he was certain they had gone too far, and had missed the door, and would be lost in the passage forever. But then Kalem breathed a sigh of relief—Ebon, it seemed, was not the only one who had been frightened—and said, “Here it is.”
Again his fingers found a seam in the stone, and again the wall swung open silently. A wave of fresh air washed across their faces, and Ebon drank it in deep.
They were in the Academy grounds, the same place where they had met Mako only a few days before. No one else was in sight, which Ebon was grateful for, as he could not entirely muffle the crunch of his footsteps in the fresh snow.
Suddenly he realized that they had made a grave error. “Darkness take me,” he muttered. “We should have brought our Academy robes after all.” In the clothing they now wore, they would attract as much attention as if they had set themselves on fire.
“We can take spares from the supply room,” said Kalem. “Let us hope Mellie is not on duty and guarding it, or she will catch us for certain.”
They found a white cedar door and slipped inside. The halls were nearly as deserted as the grounds had been, and so they were able to move quickly towards the front hall. Once or twice they heard approaching footsteps, and they quickly ducked out of sight around a corner until the way was clear again.
At last the passage reached the entry hall, and they poked their heads out around the corner. In unison they breathed a sigh of relief; Mellie was not on duty. It was some other wizened woman with salt-and-pepper hair. But she sat in her chair by the front door, and her head nodded towards her chest with sleep.
They snuck past her and into the supply room. Inside, they found robes of the right size, and quickly shed their street clothes to don them. Then, throwing up their cowls, they entered the halls again and made for the stairs.
“We will need Lilith’s help,” he whispered to Kalem as they made their way up towards the dormitories. “We will be nearly helpless against Isra on our own. And Lilith may not fare any better against magestones, but if we gain the element of surprise, she could end the fight quickly.”
“You are placing an awful amount of faith in Lilith,” said Kalem.
“She has placed faith in us as well,” said Ebon. “And she found us in Adara’s home, and did not reveal us afterwards. I am willing to wager that she will not reveal us now.”
Another student came down the stairs towards them. They went silent and ducked their heads at once, hiding beneath their hoods. The other student passed w
ithout comment. Soon they were outside Lilith’s common room—and Ebon’s. It seemed many lifetimes had passed since he had laid his head upon his pillow here, though in truth it had only been a few days.
The common room was empty, for which he was grateful, and soon they were in Lilith’s dormitory. In between the rows of beds they stepped, peering through the dim light of the moons from the windows.
But before they found her, another student sat up in their bed and saw them. Her eyes met Ebon’s, and they widened. It was Nella.
Her mouth opened to shout, but he leapt forwards and covered it with his hand. He put a finger to his lips, silently pleading with his eyes for her to keep quiet. “Please,” he said. “For Oren—please, do not shout. We are not here to harm anyone.”
At Oren’s name she froze. He took that for a good sign and pressed on. “We know where Isra is, and we mean to stop her. Now, tonight. But we need Lilith’s help to do it.”
Nella’s eyes widened. Slowly, Ebon took his hand from her mouth. “Please, Nella. Where is Lilith?”
Slowly she raised a hand, pointing to a bed in the other row. Looking over, Ebon saw Lilith’s dark frizzled hair poking out from the covers. He met Nella’s gaze and gave her a grateful nod. “Thank you.”
“Wait!” she said. She stood from her bed and reached for her robe, throwing it on over her underclothes. “I can help.”
Ebon and Kalem looked to each other. Kalem shrugged. “If you are willing to ask Lilith for help, I do not know how we can refuse Nella.”
Nella glared at him, but Ebon raised his hands to calm her. “He only means that we did not begin on the best of terms. But thank you, Nella. I, for one, am glad for your help.”
They went to Lilith and woke her with a hand over her mouth. The moment she saw Ebon she sat up, awake at once, and wordlessly dressed herself. They crept out into the common room again, where Ebon spoke to them in hasty whispers.
“Isra is in the vaults,” he said. “It is the only place she can be. The only place where no one could find her—not even Mako, or … well, anyone else who aided us in the search.”
“Sky above,” whispered Lilith. “Of course. We must alert the faculty.”
Ebon shook his head at once. “No. Even if they believed us—which I doubt—many could be hurt if Xain charged in there with flame and battle. But if we sneak in, on our own, we may be able to stop her before she knows we are coming.”
“We may be able to kill her, you mean,” said Lilith. “She must die, Ebon. After all she has done, there is no other way.”
Ebon could not muster an argument. But still he frowned, and his gut twisted, for the faces of Cyrus and Matami came to him. “If that must be, then it must be,” he said quietly. “I do not think I could bring myself to do it, but I will not stay your hand.”
“As if you even could,” said Lilith. But her tone was not as fiery as her words.
“You know the vaults better than we do,” said Ebon. “Will we be able to enter them?”
“There is one guard posted, but they can be subdued,” said Lilith. “And I know where Egil keeps the key to the main door.”
“Let us go, then,” said Ebon.
They ran through the halls, ducking out of sight whenever they heard footsteps approaching. But that was rarely, and soon they had reached the vault’s front door.
“The guard is inside the front office,” said Lilith. “Nella, you should deal with them. Mindmagic is better for knocking someone senseless without killing them. I have no wish to catch them in a blaze.”
“Very well,” said Nella. She cracked her knuckles against each other. “Open the door for me.”
Ebon took a firm grip on the handle. He threw it open at Nella’s nod, and she leapt inside. There was a single sharp cry, and then a crack. Ebon heard a body slump to the stone floor. They stole in behind Nella to find a member of the faculty—some instructor Ebon did not recognize—slumped against the far wall. She was unconscious, but her chest still rose and fell.
“I hope you are right about this, Drayden,” said Nella. “I hate to think of the punishment I will receive otherwise.”
“I hope I am right, too,” said Ebon. When she looked at him in horror, he mustered a small smile.
“But wait,” said Kalem, frowning. “If the vaults have been guarded, how could Isra have come in and out, as we know she has done?”
“Mindwyrd,” said Lilith. “She still has magestones. And you would do well to remember that, or you will find yourself her unwitting slave. That is not an experience I, for one, care to repeat.”
That threw a somber mood across them all. Silently Ebon opened the second door, and they entered the vaults.
thirty-eight
ALMOST AT ONCE, EBON FELT the creeping sensation of magic upon his skin. He remembered it well from when he, Theren, and Kalem broke into the vaults for the first time. Enchantments beyond number guarded this place, making him feel as though small creatures crawled over him, their thin and spindly legs tickling his spine.
The place was utterly dark. They were in the very bowels of the Academy, and had no windows to allow moonslight. Lilith’s eyes glowed as she whispered, and a small ball of flame sparked to life above her palm. It painted the place in blood, from the arched doorways to the ceiling that seemed oppressively close. Wordlessly, the four of them drew closer together, eyes roving uneasily.
“Need we disable the spells?” whispered Ebon. “Jia told us there were enchantments to warn the faculty if anyone came here.”
“That is a spell of mentalism,” said Nella. “Isra will have disabled such magic, or else she could not come and go as she pleases.”
“Should we light a torch?” said Kalem.
“My flames will do,” said Lilith. “They will be easier to douse at need. We do not want her to see us coming.”
Kalem nodded. For a long moment they stood there, peering into the looming blackness of the tunnel.
“Well,” said Ebon.
He took the first step. The second one came easier. In a moment, the others followed. Their footsteps echoed from the stone walls and mingled with the crackling of Lilith’s flame. Surely Isra could hear them, wherever she was. She must be able to. They were a chorus, an army marching with thunder.
But nothing came to greet them.
They reached a place where the hallway split. Lilith turned right. Ebon paused. “Where are you going?”
“The room where the first artifact was stolen. Its enchantments are gone. It would make sense for Isra to stay there. Anywhere else, she would have to remove the enchantments all over again.”
Ebon swallowed and nodded. He had forgotten that Lilith once worked in these vaults, as Theren did. “That is sensible. Lead on.”
Lilith turned them again a few paces later. But as they approached the next intersection, Kalem stopped in his tracks. He stepped away from them and went to a corner, stooping to pick something up. When he turned back, he held a cheese rind for them to see.
“Well,” he whispered, his voice croaking. “If we doubted she was down here, this seems to prove it.”
“Do not forget her magestones,” said Lilith. “If she sees us first, we are lost. She can overpower Nella and me faster than blinking. We must surprise her.”
Just then they heard the sound of leather shifting against stone down the hall.
Kalem squeaked. Lilith doused her flame. Ebon ran for the wall and pressed himself against a door, behind the stone lip of its frame. A small body struck him in the stomach, and he almost screamed in panic. But it was only Kalem.
The hallway went deathly still. No sound came to them—none but their own heavy, terrified breathing. Ebon wanted to ask Lilith for a light, but he dared not speak.
He stuck his head out. There was a glow. It was faint, just at the end of the hallway. It came from around the corner to the right. He did not know the vaults, but he would have wagered that it was the last corner before they reached the room they were lookin
g for.
The glow was so small, he thought it must come from a candle. He tried to let his eyes adjust to it, but it was not bright enough. He could not even see Kalem pressed to the door beside him.
When he lifted a foot, its scrape sounded like a thunderclap, and Kalem went rigid. Ebon still could not see Lilith or Nella. He put the foot down again, and then took another step. Inch by inch, one hand pressed to the wall, he crept forwards.
He reached the corner safely. The glow was brighter now, almost bright enough to see. When he stepped around into the next hallway, he would be able to see its source. He closed his eyes.
Sky above, protect me. And if not, then look after Albi when I am gone, and Halab, and especially Adara.
Ebon stepped around the corner.
As he had guessed, there was a candle. But the candle did not catch Ebon’s eye so much as did the figure lying on the floor next to it. A small figure, partially blocking the candle’s glow. Their head was laid upon the stone, and their shoulders shifted slightly moment to moment with breathing.
A hand gripped his shoulder, and he nearly died of fright. But then he heard Lilith’s whisper. “It is her. Stand back. I will end this.”
“No!” Ebon stuck out an arm to restrain her. “That is not Isra.”
And indeed, he could see clearly that it was not. The figure was too small. And after looking a moment longer, his heart sank. Even in silhouette, he recognized the wild hair.
Astrea. Sky above.
The poor girl must be under mindwyrd, left here to guard Isra as she slept. Who knew how long she had been under Isra’s command? Now Astrea’s worsening complexion made sense, her increasing weariness and the heavy bags under her eyes. Ebon imagined it: Astrea returning to the vaults each night, receiving Isra’s commands of mindwyrd, and sitting in sleepless vigil in case anyone should come to capture her. Likely she only slept now because her body had given out, casting her into slumber despite all the power of Isra’s mindwyrd.
The Firemage's Vengeance Page 24