The Firemage's Vengeance

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by Garrett Robinson


  forty

  THE TOWER FADED TO SILENCE. The only sounds were the crackling of the flames on Isra’s remains, and Lilith’s ragged, heavy breathing. Her hands began to shake. She looked at them, fear dawning in her eyes. Quickly she shoved them into her sleeves, and huddled her arms against herself as if for warmth—and indeed, now that the terror had begun to leach away, Ebon was again aware of how cold the air was. Outside the tower, a light snow had begun to fall, and it skittered in little eddies around the belfry.

  Behind Lilith there came a groan, and Xain struggled groggily to his feet. Ebon’s heart skipped a beat as the Dean straightened and looked at him. When Xain walked towards him, Ebon fought to crawl away—but Xain only reached down a hand to help him up. Ebon stared at it a moment before reaching up to take it. They clasped wrists, and in a moment Ebon was on his feet.

  “Are you all right?” said Xain gruffly.

  Ebon tried to speak, but did not know what to say. In the end he shook his head.

  Xain snorted. “Fairly said.”

  Lilith was now shaking where she stood. Ebon stepped past Xain and went to her. Just before he reached her, her knees gave way—and to his surprise, she clutched his shoulders and held him in a sort of embrace. His hands hovered in the air, unsure of what to do, before he finally placed them gingerly on her back. It lasted only a moment, and then she stepped back, refusing to meet his eyes. But she left a hand on his arm, gripping him tight for support.

  “She threw you from the tower,” said Ebon.

  Lilith’s brow furrowed. She pointed to the edge over which she had been thrown, and together they went to it. Just below the edge, Ebon saw one of the great hanging banners with the Academy’s sigil upon it.

  “I caught hold of the banner,” said Lilith. “If I had not, I would be dead.”

  They turned to see Xain staring at both of them. Ebon could read nothing in his expression.

  “You found her in the vaults,” said the Dean. There was no question in his voice. “How?”

  Ebon shook his head. “Ever since we saw her in the kitchens, my friends and I have been searching for her—and my family as well. Even when the corpse was found. But our best efforts turned up nothing, and we thought she must not be on the Seat. It was only tonight I realized that the vaults were the one place on the island she could hide where no one would find so much as a trace of her.”

  But thought of the vaults reminded him of Astrea. His eyes went wide. “In the vaults, hiding with her, we found—”

  Xain raised a hand to stop him. “Astrea. She is in the healing ward now, and under Jia’s care. Erin is with them.”

  His voice grew thick at that, and he blinked hard as he looked away.

  “Kalem found me almost at once, for I had been roused by the sound of your flight,” he went on after a moment. “Then I followed the trail of destruction here, to the belfry.”

  His eyes fell upon Isra’s corpse—or what remained of it. Ebon did not even wish to look at the body, it was so twisted by the flames. Xain recoiled, though Ebon saw it was not from the sight of melted flesh. He had focused instead on the black stones scattered upon the ground.

  “The magestones,” he said. “Gather them.”

  Ebon glanced at Lilith. She nodded and released his arm. Ebon went to do as he was bid, scooping the magestones up into the brown cloth packet from which they had fallen. Some had been caught in the flames that had consumed Isra, but Ebon saw that they had not been burned.

  “Destroy them,” said Xain, once Ebon had gathered them all up.

  Ebon raised them before his eyes. “Should I … should I crush them?”

  Xain shook his head at once. “No. Not here. Not where we can … not here.”

  “Shall I throw them from the tower, then?”

  “No, you fool,” snapped Xain. “Some student will find them, and go mad, or worse, someone else will find them, and then all the Academy will be purged as abominations.”

  Annoyed now, Ebon thrust the packet forwards. “Fine, then. Destroy them yourself.”

  Xain recoiled as though Ebon had thrown an adder in his face. “No! Get them away from me. Fire. Only fire will do it.”

  Ebon pointed to Isra’s corpse. “They were caught already in the flames. It did not harm them.”

  “Not magical fire,” said Xain. “True fire.”

  The belfry’s torches were all cold. Ebon thought for a moment, and then with a flash of realization, he reached into his pocket. His fingers closed around Halab’s firestriker. With a few quick squeezes, he cast a flurry of sparks upon the brown cloth packet. It caught like parchment, blazing with surprising heat and forcing him to step back—but the flames were dark and twisted, and seemed to reach for him.

  Xain quivered, his whole body shaking as a long and ragged breath slipped from him. He closed his eyes for a moment, and Ebon thought he saw the Dean sniff. When his eyes opened again, they were clear, and fixed upon Ebon’s.

  “Thank you,” he said quietly. “Now, the two of you should come with me. We must fetch your friend Theren from prison, where she should never have been in the first place.”

  Ebon’s heart thundered in his chest. “We are pardoned, then? I thought you might not, for we held the amulet in secret.”

  Xain fixed him with a look. “Because you knew you would need it against Isra,” he said quietly. “And because you knew she held my son. Words will be had—with the King’s law, as well as between us. You are not free from all penalty, Drayden. But I will not let the mindmage girl suffer any longer, when she only tried to save my own blood. Come.”

  Lilith took Ebon’s arm again, and he felt her hands trembling. He helped her make her shaky way down the bell tower steps after Xain.

  forty-one

  XAIN [22]

  The rest of that night passed like some nightmare, a memory in reverse of when Ebon had gone with Theren to fetch Lilith from the hands of the Mystics. Only this time Theren had not suffered so greatly, for she had not suffered under mindwyrd, as Lilith had.

  They all returned to the Academy, and there Lilith helped Theren to bed. But Xain took Ebon aside, and brought him to his office, and demanded to know everything.

  For the first time, Ebon spoke freely of Isra. He told Xain what had happened in the Dean’s home, and how Erin had been stolen away in the first place. He told Xain of how Theren had used the amulet of Kekhit upon Dasko, and repeated the tale of how they had seen Isra in the kitchens, and now Xain believed him. He said nothing of Mako, of course, nor his uncle Matami, nor anything to do with the family, for some secrets were not his to tell. Neither did he mention Adara, but when he came to that portion of the tale, he only spoke of going into hiding somewhere in the city. Though Xain’s eyes flashed with interest, he held his peace. And at last Ebon told him how he guessed where Isra must be hiding, and came to find her.

  When he had finished, Xain stared into the candle on his desk for a long while. In the end, he said only, “I see.”

  Ebon’s brows raised. He tried to hold his tongue, but as another silence stretched, he felt compelled to speak. “Is that all?”

  Xain’s mouth worked, as though he were chewing upon his own thoughts. “I understand what you have done, Drayden. I even understand why you did it, and your motives were nowhere near so dark as I thought. Yet you have committed crimes—crimes that can carry with them grave punishments.”

  Ebon tried to hold his head high, but he could feel himself shaking, and knew Xain must see it. “Will those punishments be meted out?”

  Xain shook his head, and Ebon’s heart leapt—but when the Dean spoke, his hopes were dashed. “I cannot say. At least not now. This is a matter for the morning.”

  He stood, and bid Ebon to return to his dormitory and to sleep. Ebon obeyed—or tried to. He lay awake for hours before giving up and going to the common room, where he stared at the flames until morning light showed through the windows. The moment they did, he rose and traversed the Academy’s hall
s, making for the western wards.

  Jia sat in a chair outside the door to the healing ward when he arrived. She sagged in her seat, her head drooping, but the moment she spotted him coming she straightened, and stood as he approached.

  “Ebon,” she said, nodding stiffly. “I am glad to see you well.”

  He stopped before her, lifting his chin and giving her a formal half-bow. “And you, Instructor. I much prefer our meetings when you are not trying to throw me before the King’s law.”

  Jia’s nostrils flared. “I prefer it when you and your friends are not holding a member of the faculty under mindwyrd.”

  His face fell, and his mouth worked for a moment as he fought for words to say. In the end, the only thing he could muster was a strangled “I spoke only in jest.”

  She softened, but only a little. “I know why you did it, Ebon. But sky above … what were you thinking? How could you be so foolish? Do you have any idea what it did to Dasko?”

  Tears sprang into his eyes as he turned from her. “I do,” he said. “I wish I had not … that I had not asked Theren to …” He stopped before his voice broke.

  Jia let the silence rest for a moment. “We can reflect on what we might have done,” she said at last. “But that is of limited use. Look to your future instead. You must be better from here on. If you are truly sorry, then you must never be so foolish again. And you must do what you can, now, to make it right.”

  He swiped his sleeve against his eyes. “I will, Instructor,” he whispered. “I promise.”

  She waited until he met her gaze, and he saw that her eyes shone as well. “I believe you.”

  Then the door to the healing ward opened, and by unspoken agreement they looked away from each other. A plump older woman stepped out into the hallway, and fixed Ebon with a look.

  “You’re the transmutation student, I imagine?” she said, frowning.

  “I am,” he said. “Is she all right? I have come to see her.”

  The healer’s eyes widened. “Not likely. She needs rest, and time. The madness of mindwyrd was set deep within her, for she wished to believe the lies she was fed. She’ll not be ready for visitors for a while yet.”

  Ebon frowned—but over the healer’s shoulder, he saw Jia trying to catch his eye. As soon as he looked at her, she nodded, and then took the healer by the shoulder. “Freya,” she said. “I have been working on a poultice that I wanted your opinion on. Could you come and take a look at it for me?”

  Freya turned to Ebon a final time and said, “Come back once a week has passed, hm? We will see if she is ready to see anyone then.”

  “Oh, yes, ma’am,” said Ebon, nodding quickly. He meandered off down the hall in the other direction, but slowly, while Jia led Freya away. Once the two of them were out of sight, he stole back towards the healing ward’s door and slipped inside.

  He saw Astrea at once, for all the other beds in the ward were empty. She glanced at him as he came in. If she was surprised to see him, she did not show it. Indeed, her face did not show any emotion at all. And when Ebon approached her bed, she turned away towards the tall windows that covered the far wall. The pink light of morning painted her face in its glow.

  “Hello,” said Ebon quietly. “How are you feeling?”

  She gave him no answer.

  Ebon sighed. “You … you have heard what happened by now, I suppose. Or you can guess it.”

  “Isra is dead,” said Astrea. “You killed her.”

  “I did not—” But Ebon stopped himself and bowed his head. “Yes. I did, in part. I beg you to believe me, when I say that she would have killed me if we had not stopped her.”

  “You do not know that,” whispered Astrea.

  Again he wanted to answer, but again he held his tongue. Instead he asked another question. It had run through his mind endlessly in the common room as he stared into the flames.

  “When I saw you in the vaults,” he said. “I asked you if you were under her mindwyrd. You said you were not. That was not a lie, was it?”

  Slowly she turned until their eyes met. The silence between them stretched into a chasm.

  Ebon’s eyes fell away first. “I do not blame you,” he said softly. “I have wanted so badly to believe in people before. It is not your fault, what Isra did. It is not. Do you understand?”

  “She did nothing wrong,” said Astrea.

  Ebon let that hang there for a moment. Then he asked the other question. “An alchemist created Isra’s corpse,” he said. “The one they found in the Great Bay. That alchemist was you.”

  Astrea’s nostrils flared, and for the first time her eyes filled with fear. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “How?” said Ebon. “How could you do it? You are only a second-year student. Kalem said he did not even know of an alchemist in the Academy who could accomplish such a feat.”

  Astrea shrugged. “I … Isra helped me. There was a black glow in her eyes, and she … she told me to. And I did. I could. I obeyed her, without even knowing how.”

  Ebon shivered, though he tried to hide it. But just then, the door to the healing ward creaked open. Ebon shot to his feet, expecting a tongue-lashing from Freya. But instead, Xain appeared in the doorway. Ebon’s stomach did a somersault.

  “I … I am sorry for sneaking in,” he said. “I only wanted to see—”

  Xain cut him off with a wave. “Stay your fear, Drayden. I am not here about that. But a matter needs tending to.”

  Something in his tone made Ebon quail. “What matter?”

  To his surprise, Xain grew solemn. “The matter of punishment,” he said quietly. “Come.”

  Ebon’s feet seemed suddenly to be made of lead. He turned back to Astrea upon the bed. “I will come and visit again,” he said. “As soon as I can. Be well, and rest.”

  She turned away once more, and gave him no answer. He forced his limbs to move, and followed Xain out the door.

  DASKO [22]

  Xain led him through the halls and towards his office. Ebon wanted to ask him what this was all about, but he also feared to speak, and that fear kept him silent.

  When Xain opened the door, Ebon’s heart sank still further. Within the room were Kalem, Theren, and Lilith. But there, too, was Instructor Dasko. The man sat in a chair, leaning heavily upon the armrest, his chin buried in his fist. He looked up as the door opened, and his eyes fixed on Ebon, and narrowed.

  After he had ushered Ebon in, Xain moved around behind his desk and sat. Ebon took his place beside Theren. She was seated in the other chair, and had her arms clutched about herself. She had been cleaned up considerably after Ebon had seen her the night before, but bruises still shone on her cheeks, and she pulled her sleeves low to hide the cuts and scars on her arms. Lilith stood on Theren’s other side, her hands folded as she studied the floor. Kalem was looking all about the room, licking his lips nervously. Theren’s eyes stared straight ahead—not at Dasko, nor at Xain, but somewhere in between them, and seeing nothing.

  “Now then,” said Xain. “In accordance with my duty as the Dean, a matter of punishment must now be resolved. I speak of crimes committed by students in this room, against a member of the Academy’s faculty also present.”

  Silence stretched. If Xain expected Dasko to say anything, he was disappointed, for the instructor only kept his eyes on Theren. Upon the arm of the chair, his fingers had begun to twitch.

  Xain cleared his throat. “For a period of many days, you, Theren, held Instructor Dasko under mindwyrd. You forced him to obey your commands, and through him you spied upon the Academy’s investigations into Isra. You did this to hide your own involvement in the events that took place in my home, in which Isra stole many artifacts that were under the care of the Academy. Those artifacts are yet to be recovered, and are likely lost. Ebon, Kalem, and Lilith—you all knew of the mindwyrd, though Lilith learned later than the rest. You are complicit in the crime, though your punishment, if there is one, will be less.”

  “If there is one?
” said Theren, her voice a weak croak.

  “Yes,” said Xain. “Your knowledge of the stolen artifacts is an Academy matter, and therefore under my judgement. In light of the punishment you, Theren, have already received, and your aid in rescuing my son from Isra’s clutches, I have decided to pardon your crimes. But as the victim of your mindwyrd, Instructor Dasko will decide whether you will be punished for using it against him.”

  Ebon’s breath seeped from him in a quiet sigh. But then he saw Dasko’s eyes. The Instructor regarded him with cold scorn. Now he sat straighter in his chair, like a king about to pronounce judgement from his throne.

  “I do not pardon them,” he said. “They will be punished. All of them.”

  “What?” said Ebon. “Instructor, you cannot.”

  “I cannot?” said Dasko. His hand shook where it gripped the arms of his chair. “Do you even know what your schemes have done to me, Ebon? She was inside my mind. My memory is in shambles. Sometimes I forget where I am—I have forgotten who I am, on occasion. I will never remember all the times the three of you dragged me into the garden, when you wiped away my very thoughts, where you took away my will. My mind is not my own, even now, you worthless steer. And you tell me that I cannot?”

  Ebon could say nothing. He tried to plead with his eyes, but Dasko’s own were hard and vicious. Silent tears leaked from Theren.

  Xain’s jaw clenched. “Mindwyrd can carry the penalty of death,” he said softly. “Withholding knowledge of it may bring banishment. Do you wish to press for these punishments?”

  The office fell utterly silent for a moment. Ebon’s heart stopped. He will do it. He will sentence Theren to death.

  But though his mouth twisted, Dasko grated out. “No. She need not die for this. But she will be banished from the Academy. They all will.”

 

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