Bayan’s lip curled. Braam may have been a noble son of the empire, but he had also been a potion addict who had gotten into an illegal duel with Bayan’s hexmate Odjin, resulting in the expulsion of them both.
“Aye, charming, wasn’t he?” Taban continued. “Thought he could bully this son of a tanner into crafting trade goods for him, but I was having none of that. I got in on my own merits, and I’ve stayed here ever since.”
“Is that all the network is for? Trading goods?”
Taban gave him a knowing smile, then let his avatar fade and walked to the edge of the arena for some water. Bayan followed.
“You’re not asking because you want something this time.” Taban took a gulp of water from the dipper that rested atop the water barrel. “You’re watching for something. I know, because I’ve been watching you. What are you looking for, hexling?”
Bayan turned his gaze to the arena sand, to where Tarin and Calder hurled bolts at each other via their avatars. They hadn’t worked out with anyone but each other for a while. He saw Kiwani, safe, sound, and completely unable to remember what happened to her while she had been locked in the mountain. Had it really been Instructor Jurgen who’d kidnapped her, or was the attack on her part of something bigger and darker, still lurking on campus? He turned to Taban. “I’m looking for the biggest picture I can find, Taban. The little pictures I see don’t make any sense.”
Taban grinned. “I can respect that. And the network will help you.”
“No. You will.”
Taban’s dark brows flicked upward. “Oh, it’s to me, is it?”
“It’s to you. Tell me as much as you can, and you can join our hex tonight.” Bayan hated to play that card, but it was the only one Kiwani had said would work for sure.
Taban’s smile faded. He leaned close. “You are up to something, hexling.”
Bayan didn’t look away. “In or out, Taban?”
Taban gave his lips a pensive pout. “This, I have to see. I’m in.”
“I’m listening. What is the network really for?”
“I’d not dream of asking its creator personally, but had I a guess—an educated guess formed over the past two years—I’d wager my last ducat that ducats are not the goal.”
“If not money, then what?”
“The best currency a civilized empire can have.” Taban held out the dipper to Bayan, who took it but didn’t drink. “Information. Can you see it?” He smoothed his hand through the air as if wiping condensation from a window. “Out there, across the empire, a massive web of details. Who, what, where, when, why. All at the fingertips of one man. All available with the tug of a strand or two. Does he put information into his web, or does he glean from it? Maybe he wraps some of it up for later and leaves it dangling from the ceiling beams of his office.”
Bayan gave him a look of distaste.
Taban grinned. “My point is, anyone with that much access to the inner workings of the empire has a million chances to control history. Why else would he be sitting alone up here on this mountain? Because he can, Bayan. Because the empire’s only living Master Duelist can sit anywhere he likes. Now come, little hexling, and let me make you hop about on the sand some more.”
~~~
Bayan and his hexmates jogged across campus toward the Wind Arena. As they passed a pair of Kiwani’s former noble friends, the other duelists hushed and glared as only rich girls could. Bayan glanced as Kiwani, but she only raised her chin.
While they passed through a small, empty clearing, Calder said, “We canna keep stalling on our Savantism. We’ll just have to finish it during classes. Our exams are coming up quick.”
Bayan heard the unyielding tone in his voice, and despite their past disagreements, he found himself agreeing. He’d formally invited Taban into the hex without consulting anyone aside from Kiwani that morning, and Calder wasn’t happy about that either. But no one, including Bayan, trusted Taban enough to tell him about the Savantism yet, leaving the hex in a bind as far as training the rest of their magic for the looming test.
“We need to decide our plan today,” Tarin said. “The instructors will meet tonight to approve Taban’s transfer. We canna have him hanging around, listening in while we decide this.”
“I like Calder’s plan,” Eward said. “It’s the easiest. Some of us still have elemental spells to bond, but we can just say they’re refreshers if someone asks why we’re not performing Avatar spells. Right?”
Before Bayan could respond, someone called his name, and footsteps hurried to catch up from behind.
Bayan turned to see the ardent Nunaa trainee, Sivutma, jogging to join them. “Is it true? You dropped out of Master witten Oost’s classes too?”
Bayan shared a look with Kiwani. Why did the trainee care what Bayan did with his class schedule? “Yes. He wasn’t teaching what I needed to learn.”
Calder made an exasperated noise but said nothing.
Sivutma frowned at him. “I can’t believe you’d give up everything he has to offer! He’s already asked me to join in his beginner classes as soon as I pass my basics. I’m one of only three in my class to be selected. It’s so exciting! The future is there for me to grasp, and Master witten Oost is going to show me how. It’s what I’ve been looking for on this campus since I got here: someone who has the answers to the big questions.”
“More than you know, Sivutma,” Bayan replied.
She ignored his heavy tone, pressing on with her advocacy. “I’d hoped to take those classes with you. I think you’d better reconsider leaving. His students say the master is very disappointed in you and your… ” she looked to Kiwani, “…negative influences.”
Kiwani crossed her arms. “Little girl, don’t pick up every shiny rock you find. Most of them are worthless.”
Sivutma gave a snorting laugh. “That’s your response? I have to wonder whether you didn’t just have the filthing luck of the gods, with that battle falling into your lap the way it did. You don’t deserve your fame. Any of you.” She walked away, head high.
Bayan gave Kiwani a puzzled look. Her expression was cautious. “You see what he’s doing.”
“What? What’s he doing?” Calder’s tone prowled like an angry cat, ready to pounce.
Kiwani shot him a cold glance, then met Bayan’s eyes. “He’s replacing us with more gullible students.”
~~~
Bayan and his hexmates met Taban at the outer edge of the Wind Arena’s tunnel. Taban’s eyes sparked with glee, no doubt anticipating the morrow, when he’d be a full member of a hex of six again. Within the arena, a surprise awaited. Not only was Instructor Wekshi present, but Paat, the Hexmagic Instructor who had taken over Master witten Oost’s classes, was there as well, dressed in workout blues. Bayan’s eyes were drawn to the elemental and avatar tattoos on the man’s hands. The instructors were all Avatar Duelists and sported similar tattoos, but Paat had one rank on them. Bayan recalled a long-ago conversation with then-Headmaster Langlaren regarding the privilege of Hexmagic Duelists to form any symbol they liked, anywhere they liked, as evidence of their rank. He wondered what image Paat would choose to produce, if asked. I have no idea what I’d pick if I reached that rank. The way things are going right now, maybe I shouldn’t bother hoping to achieve it anymore.
“Today, we’re going to have a bit of fun.” Wekshi bounced on her toes. “Your hex has formally requested the addition of a sixth member, and when we convene this evening, barring another rebel insurrection, we will approve Taban’s transfer. All six of you have shown that you can create an avatar in every element with at least some control. So today, Hexmagic Instructor Paat is going to show you how to blend your magic with that of your hexmates. If you can’t manage it today, don’t worry. It won’t affect your Avatar testing at all. But you’ve all been working very hard these past seasons, and it’s rare that the Academy gets a full hex up for Avatar testing, so… Well, we just couldn’t wait any longer. We’re all pretty excited for you.”
&nb
sp; Wekshi and Paat exchanged an eager look. Bayan suffered a moment of uncomfortable realization. He and his hexmates weren’t the only ones hoping they did well on their Avatar exams. Even the teachers had pinned their hopes on his hex. We really do need to get cracking on our Savantism.
He paired with Kiwani, while Taban and Eward teamed up. Calder and Tarin, as always, stood together, ready to begin.
Instructor Paat rubbed his hands together as he stood on the frosty sand. “Hexmagic is combinatory magic at its finest. It’s the highest level of magic prowess that any duelism student can reasonably hope to achieve, barring miracles such as Master witten Oost. The basic premise behind hexmagic is that the six elements can be combined in various ways, to produce vastly superior magic. One form of combination is simply the exhibition of more than one element or avatar at the same time. You know this as hexing.” With a few gestures, Instructor Paat brought forth his Wind avatar, a misty fountain of rising air, and his Earth avatar, a snakelike ripple of pebbles that blended incredibly well into the arena floor.
Bayan admired the instructor’s clever Earth avatar. Seeing the man control both avatars, Idling them around him in lazy circles, reminded Bayan of Breckan, who had seemed so strong only to shatter under the strain. A pang of sorrow shot through him. Why must it always be all or nothing with us? We’re pushed until we fail, and sometimes our failures ruin us. The empire could have so many more duelists if it didn’t shred our sanity during training.
Instructor Paat held his avatars in existence as he continued. “Truly powerful duelists can manifest all six avatars at once. But this feat only allows the duelist to perform hexmagic with himself. It’s impressive, don’t misunderstand, but hexmagic’s true scope is far greater than one duelist’s skill. The true power of hexmagic emerges when duelists merge their magics. Six duelists, six elements. This perfect blending of six individually powerful minds is the ultimate goal of duelism. A hex of Hexmagic Duelists can create anything they can imagine. With such perfect power, hexmagic can literally change the world.
“The only difference between the extreme power of a Hexmagic hex and the inherent power of a Master Duelist is that the Master Duelist is six duelists in one. Otherwise, their power is essentially equal. What Master witten Oost can do single-handedly, an ideal hexmagic hex can perform together. Do you see now why we are so excited to have your entire hex so close to passing your Avatar tests? Your strength is impressive, and we want to encourage and help you to get as close to that perfect hex as we can.”
As Instructor Paat let his avatars disperse and detailed the blending motions that would allow two duelists to merge their magic—a complex new invocation move, directed toward one’s partner—Bayan’s mind remained stuck on the instructor’s words. Was the rank of Hexmagic Duelist where Sint Koos had been directing Bayan all along? Was hexmagic a given, or at least far more likely an achievement, when one was a Savant?
How far will the sint’s Savantism take me? How far will it take us?
Bayan was so deep in thought that he nearly missed Instructor Paat's next words. “—asked one of the few hexmagic students on campus to help me out with a demonstration of what’s possible with hexmagic.” Paat waved over a slender Shawnash student from the edge of the arena. “This is Tamawka. He’s been training in hexmagic for nearly a year. I think you’ll find his talents impressive.”
Bayan exchanged an eager look with Kiwani as Paat and Tamawka backed away, creating plenty of space around them. Wekshi moved to stand with the hex. The pair of duelists invoked the elements together, then Paat invoked Wood and Tamawka chose Water. Their respective avatars appeared next: a weeping willow and a watery woman with exaggerated curves. The two duelists performed the blending invocation at each other, a waving of arms, a gesture of joining. Bayan took a surprised breath. Their motion looked somehow familiar this time, and not just because he’d seen it a few minutes ago.
The two avatars moved into the same space. In their place, a squat, greenish tree formed. It grew upward from the arena’s pebbly floor, its fat limbs curling, reaching, seeking to squeeze. The limbs exuded glittering, icy thorns that spiraled out from trunk to tip, giving the tree the appearance of a sinister, upside-down octopus.
Bayan’s jaw hung open in admiring awe.
“Aye, that’s the way!” Calder cried in excitement. Murmurs of agreeable excitement rose from the others, including Instructor Wekshi.
The vicious tree spell faded away, but the show wasn’t over. A wooden floor formed in the middle of the pebbles, five strides square. A wooden man rose from it and stood still on its surface. The floor lay dormant and innocuous for the length of a few bated breaths, then its surface bogged into marsh beneath the wooden man. He fell in, scrabbling for purchase on the mucky wood. The floor closed over his head, resuming its former solidity.
Bayan gaped in uneasy amazement. Taban, nearby, shifted his feet closer together, eyeing the pebbles underfoot. Bayan didn’t blame him. He’d already had an encounter where the ground tried to kill him.
The avatar floor faded from view, and was replaced by a floating wooden sphere. Its surface grew rings of sharp spines. The two hexmagic duelists exchanged a coordinating nod. Not sure what to expect next, Bayan took a step back from the floating sphere.
A high-pitched hissing, like steam escaping a kettle, reached his ears a split-second before the wooden ball exploded. Its dagger-like spines flew in all directions. With time only for a panicked Wood block, Bayan swept a scraggly bamboo shoot across their path, but the spines vanished an arm’s length from him. Sheepish, Bayan looked around and saw that his friends had all tried some defense maneuver or another too. Eward, still wearing a look of panic, toppled dramatically into the pebbles like a wooden sculpture of himself, before relaxing into a self-deprecating laugh. “That was frighteningly impressive,” he said as Kiwani offered him a hand up.
As the two performing duelists closed out their magic with revocation motions, Tarin clapped. Bayan and the others joined in. He took a deep breath to calm his panicked heart. He had assumed he knew what magic was capable of. Hexmagic was a whole new level of power, and his teachers thought it would soon be his. He couldn’t help grinning.
Instructor Paat noticed. “I see at least one of you is eager to begin. We’ll start with blending invocations, then, and work our way up to paired spells. Welcome to the world of hexmagic, duelists.”
Anakna
“Your supper, compliments of the kitchens. Just don’t tell them that.” Tala offered a plate laden with fried turkey wings and spiced squash. Doc reached through the portal and accepted it with alacrity. Tala picked up her new crystal supports—glorified candlestick holders, Alton Bessia called them—and, carrying them carefully so she didn’t ruin the resonance in the horizontal black crystals that rested among the brass prongs, stepped through her own portal. “Portable magic! Aren’t we singers clever?” Doc Theo nodded and smiled, though his mouth was already full of turkey. She closed the portal and sang up a roomful of light. It made Doc Theo wince. “Sorry. I always forget.” She hummed the light down to a dim glow. She watched him dig into his food like a starving man. “She is feeding you, isn’t she?” Tala demanded.
“A dry crust, once a day.” Doc Theo pointed to a tiny plate with a shriveled slice of bread.
Tala smiled. “You’re so certain I won’t forget you, you won’t even eat it? Won’t she suspect?”
“I also trust you to whisk away the evidence.” Doc Theo handed her the First Singer’s meager sustenance, then indicated her brass stands. “Got yerself a new pair of crystal supports, I see.”
Tala grinned and looked over at Doc’s gifted crystals in the delicate grip of the brass. She’d liberated the crystal holders from a storeroom after watching a duet class learn to use a crystal as a substitute for a second voice in duet magic. The little stands had four tiny feet each and could support and balance variously sized crystals on the floor, tables, or anywhere. The brass was so thin that she barel
y noticed the added weight if she held them while she sang. “They make my illicit songwork so much easier. Strange how my solo classes are starting to feel like a lawful exception in my daily activities.”
“You still getting on in them?”
Tala shrugged. No need to burden him with the knowledge that she’d become a virtual pariah again since her chanter mentor had vanished. “Has she come down to see you? Is there any hope she’ll let you out soon?”
Doc Theo’s thin shoulders slumped. “No. She means for me to stay here, out of her way, until her plans, whatever they are, have come to fruition.”
“Then tell me why I shouldn’t break you out.” She leaned forward. “I don’t understand why you have to stay here.”
“She needs to think that I’m trapped. That she’s won. Then she won’t be expecting what happens next.”
Tala paused. Did Doc Theo have yet another secret plan he wasn’t going to share? “And what does happen next?”
Doc Theo sighed through his nose. “I don’t know yet. I cain’t let you return to her office. If she catches you, it’ll ruin the illusion I gave her—that her own coterie is turning against her. Not to mention the trouble you’d be in, your ownself.”
“I can handle trouble.”
“I’ve no doubt that you can, anakna,” Doc Theo said. “But I cain’t let you ruin your future by helping out a doomed old chanter.”
“It’s my future. I can do what I—what did you call me?”
Doc Theo stopped chewing. The startled look in his eyes told her he hadn’t realized what he’d said.
“Anakna?” Tala repeated. “I didn’t know you spoke Bantayan.”
“You didn’t? I’m sure I must’ve mentioned it.”
“I’d have remembered. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Doc Theo’s busy chewing seemed to be all the answer she was going to get. His hedging on such a small issue made no sense… unless it wasn’t trivial to him. Dark suspicions suddenly took wing in her mind. “Doc Theo, what’s going on? Why are you really here? Are you spying for the emperor on the First Singer? Is this all some kind of elaborate scheme? Are you really sick, or are you pretending? Why did you drag me into all of this? You need to tell me what’s going on—all of it this time—or I’ll… I’ll stop bringing you food.”
Traitor Savant (Second Seal of the Duelists) Page 19