“Don’t worry. I don’t want you to use the wardsong. I want to see if you can use that perfect pitch of yours to pick the lock on one.”
Tala felt her eyebrows jump. “What? But… Doc Theo… ”
“No, no, I’m not gonna make you steal anything. It’s just a test. Something to boost your confidence. No harm done. In fact, here’s another idea: we’ll choose an existing wardsong to test your songwork. If you can find the keynote and open a portal into the warded area, you pass. I have something special for you if you can do that.”
Tala hesitated, chewing the side of her lip. Just open a portal? That’s all? It seemed a pretty non-invasive test. Besides, she was good with portals, thanks to all the trio exercises she’d been practicing—everything from buttocks clenching for breath extension during portal songs to the “belly waves” the trio girls complained about so much. At last, Tala knew why the more experienced students—and even the teachers—wore tunics that draped rather than tight-fitting shirts. Though their songs were mesmerizing works of magic, when they sang trio spells, their bodies rippled like stomped puddles, and so did Tala’s. Being fit and strong enough to sing complex songwork without collapsing added to Tala’s confidence. She nodded. “I’ll try it.”
“Good.” His teeth flashed in the dimness. “Now, I happen to know that a certain someone is working in her office suite at the top of a certain tower late tonight. When she leaves, she’ll sing her ward note.”
“You mean the First Singer?” Tala was aghast. “I can’t go up there and spy on her! I’ll get caught. All the Octet members live in that tower.”
Doc Theo only nodded. “What do you think you could do to get around that?”
Tala frowned, a sarcastic reply hovering on the tip of her tongue. She squinted in thought and reached for one of her black crystals. “I think I have an idea. Do we have time to portal to the Chantery?”
~~~
First Singer Liselot de Vosen was still in her office when Tala opened a tiny portal around the corner from her door using one of her black crystals and another liberated from the Chantery’s stock. Tala pushed her unused black crystal through the portal and propped it up against the wall at an angle, leaving its long, slender body exposed to the open air. She closed the portal and waited.
Three checks later, her portal opened onto a vibrating crystal. She widened the bright oval and stuck her head through, listening intently with her eyes shut. Once she was sure that the First Singer’s hallways were empty, she softly sang an amplifying song to the black crystal. It vibrated with a clear soprano note. Tala winced at the note’s amplitude and clapped a hand over it, silencing its high-pitched wailing. She yanked it back through the portal and pressed her hands against the portal crystals. The glowing ring winked out.
Doc Theo hunched down beside her in the unused classroom. “Did you get it?”
Tala studied the black crystal. “Yes, but the First Singer was clever. She makes the keynote so high that most people can’t sing it.”
Doc Theo’s face registered instant worry. “Can you sing it?”
Can I? I think so. But not without some practice. “I’ll need to warm up my voice first. I should do that back in my room. Can you wait here?” Doc Theo nodded, and Tala portaled to her room, balancing the crystals on two fingers each.
She set her crystals atop her quilt and ran up and down the soprano scales. Thank Bhattara I’m a soprano like my mother! Her throat loosened and warmed, and soon that elusive ward note emanated from her mouth.
As she sang the portal that would return her to Doc Theo, a part of her mind marveled at her circumstances. As the outcast student, her future had seemed bleak. Now she had a trusted mentor in Doc Theo, and together they were stepping outside the rigid singer lifestyle and having—dare she think it?—fun!
She stepped into the dark classroom in front of Doc Theo. “I’m ready.”
Her first portal opened right in front of the First Singer’s office door. Resisting the strong urge to try the door’s handle, Tala took a deep breath and sang the wardsong. She focused on the memory of the note from her black crystal. The first sound out of her mouth had to be the keynote, and not a half-step off, or she would set off an alarm. Closing her eyes, Tala imagined the note she needed, golden and liquid, waiting in her throat. Then she set it free.
With her eyes closed, though, she couldn’t see if anything had happened. There was no resultant sound. But Doc Theo said, “I think it worked. Did you see that light? All around the door.”
Tala hadn’t, but she closed her portal anyway, leaving herself and Doc Theo in the lower classroom. “One more portal to go.”
“Make it big. It could be dark in there, and I’ve only been inside once. I’ll need to see if it’s actually the right place.” When Tala looked at him with mild suspicion, he said, “Have you spied on any portaling lessons in trio class lately? Do you know what happens if you try to portal into a warded room? For all I know, wards bounce portals to other rooms.”
Tala sighed. She was becoming aware of a massive downside to memorizing all kinds of songwork ahead of schedule—sometimes a year earlier than she should have, as with portals. All the interim knowledge she’d have acquired wasn’t there. Shifting her spell’s notes just a fraction, she opened another portal, this time into a dark room.
“Bigger, please.” Doc Theo leaned forward and peered through the portal. Tala sang the portal wider. Then, to her shock, he scuttled through the portal into the First Singer’s office foyer.
“Doc Theo!” Hands hovering protectively over her crystals, Tala stared helplessly after him. Shock quickly segued into a sense of betrayal. Could he have set her this test just to slip in there? Was he more ill than she’d come to believe? Was he relapsing? “Doc Theo! Come back!”
He vanished into another room, leaving Tala to hold the portal open. She waited, feeling her frustration rise. She had refreshed the notes in her crystals twice when a sudden noise near her portal made her instinctively clap her hands onto her crystals, cutting off the portal, leaving her in the darkness of the empty classroom. Alone.
And abandoning Doc Theo to whomever had just opened the First Singer’s office door.
~~~
Doc Theo knew what he was doing was wrong—not just breaking into the First Singer’s office to look for evidence, but convincing Tala to help him. His career had had a long run, but hers was just beginning. His guilt for involving her weighed on him, but not as much, nor had he been carrying it as long, as his burden of suspicion. It had started years ago at the Duelist Academy, but over the past summer, events had come to a head. Before he could find any proof for his theories, however, the man he suspected managed to promote himself to headmaster and exile Doc Theo from the Academy, effectively cutting off his investigation.
Until Doc Theo met Tala and realized what extraordinary singing power she possessed.
Even Doc could see that the best place to exile an unstable chanter was the Temple of Ten Thousand Harmonies—out of sight, out of mind, as far as the the new headmaster of the Duelist Academy was concerned. The cold and harsh treatment he had experienced probably had more to do with who his enemies were than with the fact that he was merely a lowly chanter. Which meant that witten Oost had some influence, somehow, at the Temple. If there was a connection between the only two magical centers in the empire, Doc Theo definitely wanted to know that it was.
He skirted the sung-wood chairs facing Liselot’s office desk—a beautiful work of dark, gleaming wood with arcing shelves that curved upward, tulip-like, on both sides—and tried the drawers. He found nothing of import on the papers inside them, so he turned his attention to her filing system, which was lodged within a massive wooden sculpture that ran the entire length of a separate room. Flowers, leaves, vines, birds, and small mammals made the room look festive and tropical. He pulled open drawers fronted by petals, wings, and vine curlicues, finding little more than invoices, student progress reports and assignments, and or
ders for supplies from Alini.
He located a small, secret drawer, almost by accident. Its face was a veined portion of a large leaf down in a corner. He couldn’t pry it open, meaning a separate ward likely guarded the small compartment. Tala already looked at him like he was an eccentric. If he asked her to break this ward as well, it might push her too far. Despite his concerns, he cared too much about her to do that.
Doc Theo realized he had hit a dead end. He had just entered the main office room, intent on slipping away and coming up with a new plan, when Liselot herself strode in from the main door. She jerked to a halt at the sight of him, but her face displayed no surprise, only frustration.
Tala. Where’s her portal? He flicked his eyes toward the short hallway behind Liselot, but saw no ring of light.
“Your conspirator has abandoned you, Theo.” Tall and stately, Liselot wore her long, light brown hair across the back of her head in a gleaming, tightly twisted swirl that mirrored the linked circles embroidered up and down her long white sleeves and around her hem. She folded her long, slender fingers together. “Ignaas warned me that you might continue with your conspiracy fallacies, but I trusted to the healing atmosphere of the Temple. I thought that being home would draw you closer to us, that you would remember your place. Apparently, you haven’t.”
Trying a bluff, Doc Theo said, “My conspirator wouldn’t want you to find out which side he’s really on, now, would he?”
Liselot’s poise shivered, like a scream passing through a pane of glass. “What do you mean?”
He’d hit a nerve, one he hadn’t realized existed. His mind scrambled to guess who she might suspect of disloyalty. Has to be one of her coterie.
“No matter,” she continued, when Doc Theo didn’t speak. “I have you, the ringleader. He will come forward eventually, or I’ll catch him on his own. I will know who amongst my singers is helping you, mark my words, Theo. Your futile plan of petty retaliation has failed. You were such a good chanter, too.” She shook her head with a pitying expression. “I’m sorry to see you fall this far, and in this manner. I’m sorry that we weren’t able to correct your views. And I’m sorry that stronger measures are all I have left. I can’t have you wandering free, subverting my authority. Not now. We’re on the cusp of a great new adventure. I can’t allow doubt to hurt my singers’ willingness to change their paradigm and embrace a better future. It’s time we stepped out of our mountain stronghold and let the empire embrace us. Your issues will have to wait, I’m afraid, until that’s complete. You’ll be given adequate lodgings, but you cannot have any further contact with anyone in my Temple. I can’t risk you swaying anyone’s opinions any further.”
Doc Theo blinked at the waterfall of information washing over him. He’d picked up another fact or two, and Tala was safe. Best I can do, belike. My last act as a free man. Or is it? Liselot said “we.” We’re on the cusp.
The clue didn’t exactly thud into place. His instinctive guess could be wrong, but he had no other choices, no more time, and nothing to lose. “You think he loves you, don’t you?”
Liselot paused in the act of drawing a pair of crystals from side pouches on her belt. “Excuse me?”
It was Doc Theo’s turn to offer a pitying look. “I’m sorry to see you fall this far, and in this manner. You see, the only person Ignaas witten Oost loves is himself.”
Liselot’s icy glare could have frozen him to death on the spot. She barked out the notes to a portal song. It opened from her dim office into a black hollow, inside which Doc Theo couldn’t make out any detail whatsoever. When she spoke, her voice was chill rage. “Get in.”
Doc Theo sighed and turned toward the portal. After a lifetime of healing, he couldn’t even entertain the thought of fighting back. A futile effort against a singer, anyway. Tala might never learn what happened to him. Maybe she deserved to forget him. He stepped through the portal and found a cold but even floor in the darkness. He turned and faced Liselot. Let her look at what she’s doing. Let her remember it.
They stared at one another for a long moment. Then Liselot sang a light song, and Doc Theo’s surroundings lit from an amorphous glow above him. The First Singer clamped her hands on her crystals, and Doc Theo’s view of her was replaced by a smooth stone wall.
He found himself in a small room about three strides in every dimension. A pile of blankets lay heaped in one corner. A wide, lidded stoneware pot served as the necessary in the opposite corner. In the center of the room rested a small pitcher and an empty plate. Doc Theo took hope from their presence that he might be fed rather than being left to starve.
He examined the walls, the ceiling, and the floor. His new room had no door.
Liselot hadn’t put him in new sleeping quarters. She hadn’t even stuck him in a proper dungeon cell. She’d gone and hidden him in an oubliette.
Hexing
“No, you’re not listening.” Kiwani gave Bayan and Eward an exasperated glance. “It’s not what he’s teaching, it’s why he’s teaching it. Why he’s teaching at all.”
Eward raised a confused eyebrow. “You mean besides wanting to impart his wisdom and decades of knowledge and experience to future generations of duelists?”
“Yes, Eward, besides that,” Kiwani said with mock patience.
Bayan gave her a confused glance. “I’m not sure I follow.”
Kiwani leaned across the breakfast table. “You’ve seen how he picks favorites in class. How Calder is one of them? Hasn’t it ever occurred to you why he does that?”
Bayan exchanged a glance with Eward. “No,” they both said.
“Look,” Bayan added. “You’re our expert on political stuff. Just explain it so we understand.”
Kiwani marshaled her thoughts. “Everyone has a motive for everything they do. Think about the emotions we shared with each other when we began our Savant training. Those emotions are our motivation. They’re what drive us.”
“Are you saying the master is a Savant?” Eward asked, wide-eyed.
“No. Maybe. But that’s not my point. I’m saying that he’s picking and choosing students to join his classes, and once they are under his thrall, he chooses favorites. Those favorites have to be benefiting him in some way. It has nothing to do with magnanimously sharing his knowledge and wisdom with the world.”
“Calder’s bragged about how nice the things are in the master’s office. Offices.” Bayan said. Kiwani nodded. She knew the master had one office for teaching and one for running the school, and Calder was the only person she knew who had been in both of them. “He must be getting his fancy decorations through his former students, and maybe their friends and clients, too.”
“He can’t be going through all this trouble just for a few nice pieces of furniture.” Kiwani frowned. “He’s up to something, and we—well, you—are the key. I don’t have to know exactly what he wants from me to realize he’s trying to take it without my knowing. That’s what I see. That’s why I left.”
Bayan leaned back into his chair. “He’s been teaching for longer than any of us have been alive. That’s a lot of students.”
“Whatever he’s using them for,” Eward said, “it must be huge by now.”
“He’s a very patient man. He was raised in a noble household. He’s lived long enough to witness the forceful way the Waarden put down revolution. We’re too young to remember the Raqtaaq Wars, but all the teachers, our parents, even Doc Theo—they lived it. And so did Master witten Oost. If he wants to slip any revolutionary plans past the watchful eyes of the empire, he has to keep them secret and silent,” Kiwani said.
“Until his opportune moment, that is,” Bayan said. “We don’t want to let a plan that dangerous get that close to happening again.”
Kiwani tipped her head in acknowledgment of his point. The rebels they’d fought last spring at the Kheerzaal had kept their plans secret for years before they struck. A seemingly cowed rebel princess had turned out to be a crazed murderess. She’d nearly killed Bayan befor
e anyone realized the extent of her plans. Kiwani wasn’t willing to let that happen again. “Why don’t we go ask someone who’s been a part of it for awhile?”
“What? Who? Why would they talk to us?” Eward asked.
Kiwani gave Bayan a sweet, triumphant smile. “Because Bayan traded with him for tutoring lessons last year, and because right now, there’s nothing he wants more than to join our hex.”
~~~
Bayan caught his breath and let Puffball Idle in the air above him. Taban’s Static was an enormous, nearly invisible avatar who wafted all around his tegen, who in this case was Bayan, and made it difficult to see Taban’s Shock attacks before they zapped him and made him jump like a panicked rabbit in a typhoon.
“Got you where I want you, aye Bayan?” Taban grinned. He didn’t seem nearly as out of breath as Bayan felt.
“Looks that way. Now, if only I had a bigger avatar. This little ball of lightning is fast, but it’s hard to occupy a spot in the sky if Static is already in it.”
“Now you’re thinking like an Avatar Duelist, hexling.” Lazy approval filled Taban’s voice.
“You planned Static’s size from the first time you summoned him?”
“Aye, ‘course I did. If you’re not thinking ahead, you’re lagging behind. One of my many useful mottos in life.”
Bayan lowered his voice so the other students in the Shock Arena couldn’t hear him over the crackling and buzzing of their avatars. “Is that why you joined the underground network that got you all those firedust supplies for me last year?”
Taban paused, eyeing Bayan with distaste at the new turn in the conversation. “Aye,” he finally said, keeping his tone light. “It seemed prudent.”
“And who let you know that the network existed?”
“That was Braam, noble fool that he was.”
Traitor Savant (Second Seal of the Duelists) Page 18