Traitor Savant (Second Seal of the Duelists)

by Giacomo, Jasmine

  He sighed and let the beetle and their connection go. The bug flew out the window into the frosty night, and Bayan wished it a warm evening.

  Bayan plopped onto the blanket, then stretched out and stared at the cold house’s low ceiling. His mind wandered from anima magic to Treinfhir’s comment on unfocused elemental magic being possible inside a cold house, but Treinfhir didn’t seem to know what made a cold house work. Whatever it was, it seemed to be the same thing that had lost the Tuathi their first war with the Waarden. Bayan shook his head, hearing straw crinkle under him, and wondered what sort of ancient discovery could have been so effective as to turn the tide of the First Tuathi War, and then be so entirely forgotten.

  Unfocused magic. What does that mean? Bayan had thought it over many times, but hadn’t been able to figure out what Treinfhir meant. Since Treinfhir had no description of what made anima magic focused, Bayan couldn’t extrapolate anything from his historical war tale. It was more than frustrating, knowing that critical knowledge lay just out of reach, and likely would remain there.

  Bayan thought back to his earlier life, back in Balanganam. Things were simple then, although they hadn’t seemed so. Imee had loved him. He could see now that she was not the girl for him—he’d changed too much since leaving—but back then, she was his dream of perfection. He’d had his father’s respect, too. He hadn’t known how much his father loved him until he’d been dragged away to train at the Duelist Academy. So much he hadn’t known, back in that time of blissful ignorance. His biggest concern had been how to hide his magical outbursts from everyone, so they wouldn’t send him to train with the Skycallers and live on a mountain top somewhere. Even his magic had grown and changed since then. Now, it was powerful, channeled. Back then, it had been so…

  Unfocused.

  Bayan bolted into a sitting position, sifting through inner memories. Was that what Treinfhir meant by unfocused magic? Untrained, wild? Uncontained within the elemental invocation and revocation that every newnik practiced day in and day out until their potential for magic would respond to nothing else?

  Bayan had never considered skipping the elemental invocation. His instructors had made it clear that once a student trained their magic to open at the invocation and close at the revocation, it was safe, tamed. No one had ever even hinted at what would happen if someone tried to cast spells without the invocation. It just wasn’t done.

  Would anything even happen if he tried it? Bayan felt an unfamiliar flutter of nervousness in the pit of his stomach. He’d grown so close to his magic these last few seasons that it felt like a part of his body, another appendage. Trying to use it without the elemental invocation felt like trying to breathe and swallow at the same time; it probably wouldn’t work, and it might hurt.

  What should he try first? Something harmless. Bayan stood and, consciously resisting the natural tendency to perform the elemental invocation, moved on to the Wind invocation. He wasn’t even sure he needed that, but first things first. He performed the swirling release motion for the Zephyr spell, but nothing happened. Disappointed but not discouraged, Bayan tried Zephyr on its own, leaving out the Wind invocation too. To his amazement, he felt magic swirling around him, gentle, warm. A small Zephyr rose into the air above him as he finished his spell, warming the tiny interior of the cold house and adding a hint of sea breeze.

  Bayan took a step back in stunned shock and bumped into the back wall of the cold house. Unfocused magic. Bhattara bless you, Treinfhir. He studied the spell warming the air around him. It was weak, much weaker than his usual work. He wasn’t sure if that was because it was his first unfocused spell, or if the invocations focused the magic and made it stronger. He suspected the latter, but he still didn’t know why the invocations let cold houses stop focused magic.

  He had learned something about Treinfhir’s history lesson, though. A lost secret. The ancient imperials had used unfocused magic in the First Tuathi War, which meant that they must not have discovered any of the invocations yet. They’d learned them by the end of the war, though. Was that all there had been to their victory over the anima-wielding Tuathi? Surely not.

  Treinfhir had said that his people also learned focused magic through spies in Waarden camps. Once they could match the Waarden duelists on the field of battle again, the imperials unleashed yet another weapon on them. Treinfhir hadn’t known what it was, and Bayan couldn’t guess, even with what he had just learned. There was still a missing piece to the puzzle. One that had vanished for over a millennium, leaving no trace.

  Bayan’s dry tongue drew his attention. Stepping to the window, he tried to work a bit of unfocused Water magic and instantly ran into a problem. Without using separate element invocations, he wasn’t able to distinguish between creating the Watercast version of Stormfall and the Shockcast or Windcast versions. Bayan felt an electric charge build in the air instead of the dampness he sought and quickly waved his arms, destroying the spell as it formed. Heart pounding, he shuddered at the unforeseen and dangerous problem.

  Maybe I can hold the focus in my mind, instead of in my arms, he thought, hoping he didn’t zap himself. He tried the spell motions again, trying to ignore the wrongness of jumping straight into the spell and skipping all the invocations. Holding the Water Invocation sensation in his mind, he let the spell fly out the window, then crouched beneath its rounded sill.

  Water drops oozed from the air and landed in his hair. Laughing, Bayan tilted his mouth up and drank as a tiny rainstorm drenched his face. His sopping clothes didn’t matter. He wasn’t a prisoner anymore. He was on vacation in a secluded mountain resort.

  Treinfhir’s gift had set him free.

  Mistress of Flame, Master of Betrayal

  “Your Avatar Examination is in one hour, duelists. Flame Arena. Don’t be late.” Master witten Oost strode away from Eward and his hexmates at their breakfast table, leaving five open mouths behind him. Eward felt his mouth dry out and his mind go horribly blank.

  “What in sints?” Taban breathed.

  “No, I can’t,” Tarin said, eyes wide. “I haven’t found Kipri yet!”

  “We’ll find him.” Eward heard the calm in his voice and wondered where it had come from.

  Kiwani stilled. The curves in her hair and tunic reminded Eward of an Akrestoi vase. He admired her ability to fall back on years of poise in rough situations. She gave her porridge and raisins a determined stir. “Master witten Oost’s announcement is aimed at encouraging our failure. We’re tired after proving we’re not wild Savants. He knows we won’t be fully rested. And an hour is hardly sufficient time for proper mental preparation before an Avatar exam. Why do you think he waited until just this moment to tell us about our test?”

  “Why would he do that?” Calder asked. “He’s been encouraging us—some of us—all along.”

  Kiwani gave him a pitying look. “You’re tainted goods along with the rest of us, now. Being associated with Bayan and his public failure won’t save you from Master witten Oost’s disdain.”

  Calder seemed stunned, but it quickly melted into anger. “Bayan, always Bayan. His fault I’m in this mess.”

  “His fault you’re powerful enough to pass this test,” Kiwani shot back.

  Calder grumbled and wouldn’t meet her eyes.

  “Stop it. Listen,” Eward said. “Bayan’s not here, but we can’t let him down, and we can’t let each other down. This is our one and only chance to prove ourselves. The whole campus is talking about us—”

  “Just like he wanted.” Kiwani gave Calder a dark look.

  “—and they’ve heard the hints about Savantism. They think we’re dangerous, wild. If we go out there and pass our tests, nail every single spell, and shower that arena with magic, then no one can doubt that we’re the best hex on campus. They’ll have to let us pass, and they’ll have to acknowledge that Duelists Savant are not dangerous, wild things to be put down. Bayan’s right. This is our future. This is our destiny. We need to step forward and demand it. D
uelism has feared the Savants for centuries. They’ll all be watching, expecting us to fail. We need to show them that we expect to succeed.”

  The others stared at him with various expressions of surprise, agreement, and anticipation. Kiwani, eyebrows raised, said over everyone’s exclamations of encouragement, “It sounds to me like hope just grew a pair of massive iron bollocks!”

  ~~~

  At the arena, Eward and his hexmates gathered in the meeting room beneath the stands. Adrenaline pumped through his system like the crashing river in the nearby valley. His ears thudded with the beat of his heart, dulling the thunderous roar from the crowd awaiting their appearance.

  “He went all out, didn’t he?” Kiwani glanced toward the tunnel to the arena. “Packed that arena so everyone could bear witness.”

  “Will you stop it with those comments?” Calder said. “You’ve no idea what the Master is really like. He sees more than we could ever hope to, and he cares more than you and Bayan seem to.”

  Eward detected a thread of hurt in Calder’s voice, but he didn’t have any attention to spare. Instructor Takozen, tall, sinewy, and dark, stepped into the doorway. “Duelist Tarin.”

  “Oh, sints, I’m not ready,” the redhead cried. “I spent the whole hour looking all over campus, but I couldn’t find Kipri anywhere—”

  Eward took the panicky girl by the shoulders. “That means he’s here, Tarin. He’s here. He’s come to watch you perform. You know what to do. And you’d better do it right,” he added, “because my magic will only work if yours does.”

  Tarin took a few deep breaths, swallowed, and nodded, a frown of desperate focus between her thin red brows.

  “Get on with you now.” Taban gave her a friendly push toward the doorway. “If you canna make it work, at least you’ll go out in a blaze of glory.”

  Tarin, beside Takozen, turned around and eyed Taban with a gimlet gaze. With the barest hint of a smile, she said, “That’ll do, Dunfarroghan.”

  She vanished around the corner with the Flame instructor. Taban chuckled. “She’ll manage.”

  “Let’s go watch.” Kiwani’s fingers twisted together like fighting baby octopuses. “I don’t want to miss this.”

  The hex eased into the main arena tunnel and paused just short of its exit into the red-pebbled arena oval. Tarin and Takozen were still walking to the center of the arena. While Takozen looked straight ahead, Tarin’s head turned this way and that, eyes searching the stands.

  Takozen’s deep voice carried throughout the arena stands. “Our first applicant for the rank of Avatar Duelist is Tarin Hajellis. I will be her tegen for the exam. I will test her on both creation and control of all six elemental avatars under battle conditions. If she achieves competency, she will have earned her new rank. If not, she will be considered as topped out, and will retain the rank of Elemental Duelist and receive a station at a duel den in accordance with imperial law. Once the test has begun, it may not be interrupted or stopped for any reason.” He turned to Tarin. “Are you ready, Duelist?”

  Tarin glanced toward the arena tunnel. Eward and the others urgently pointed to the stands. Ignoring Takozen’s question, Tarin turned toward the audience and called, “Kipri? Kipri, where are you? Kipri Nayuuti, Cultural Liaison!”

  A group of newniks halfway up in the stands shouted and pointed to someone in their midst. The whole arena buzzed with confusion and amusement. Tarin cupped her hands in the newniks’ direction and called, “Kipri?”

  He waved an uncertain hand. Some of the audience cheered, others demanded that the test proceed.

  Tarin ran for the first row of seats. She leapt the fence barrier on an assist from an Earth spell, then stepped her way up to Kipri by raising foot-sized wooden platforms between the audience members. She ran right over their heads until she reached Kipri’s row. Without hesitation, she leaped into his arms, settled onto his lap, and kissed him thoroughly.

  Eward laughed and cheered at the same moment. Taban slapped his back so hard it left a numb palmprint. Kiwani clapped her hands to her mouth, but her eyes shone. Calder could only shake his head and chuckle. Eward shot a glance to Takozen. Would he try to stop Tarin or disqualify her?

  Apparently not. The Flame Instructor merely stared up into the stands with a baffled look on his face. Could he be leaning away from Master witten Oost, and thus toward Eward’s hex? Eward fervently hoped so. He felt his magic swell under his skin at the very idea.

  He glanced at Kiwani, but she was looking away, and her cheeks seemed pink. Was she thinking about how she’d calmed Tarin down before their Savantism check? Or was something—or someone—else on her mind?

  Tarin returned to the arena floor amidst some cheering and a number of disapproving hisses. Her face was alight with an inner fire. Eward couldn’t remember seeing her so energized. She pointed at Kipri. “My name is Tarin Hajellis, and I love that eunuch. I love him so much that I can’t be arsed to care anymore what any of you think about it. So shut your custard holes, you lot, and be prepared to piss yourselves in sheer awe. My name is Tarin Hajellis, and I am the Mistress of Flame!”

  Eward couldn’t help cringing inside. Tarin had long wanted to use that name for herself, but she was still a student, and duelists weren’t allowed to select monikers until they—

  A blinding golden glow flared between Tarin and Takozen, making Eward wince. The pebbles on the arena floor vibrated together, releasing a low grinding roar. The air in the tunnel heated rapidly, as if Tarin had yanked open the door to a massive oven. A fiery shape rose from within Tarin’s earthbound furnace. It seemed to feed on the very air itself, growing into the biggest version of Tarin’s Flame avatar, Bonfire, that Eward had ever seen.

  The avatar’s body, formed of dark gray embers, was lined with fiery cracks that flared and roared with fervent heat. The flaming crevices on his head, which rose higher than the highest arena seats, streamed flame in the steady wind and gave Bonfire long, fiery hair, just like Tarin’s.

  Bonfire opened his mouth to the sky and bellowed forth a pressure wave of white heat, rippling the air with a massive crackling sound. The flame veins along his body flared orange. He sank into a ready position, prepared to cast his first spell.

  At his feet, Tarin raised her chin. “Instructor Takozen, your defeat awaits.”

  The audience had gone dead silent. Takozen stared at the gargantuan Flame avatar towering over him. Calder, Kiwani, and Taban stood frozen in place.

  Eward’s sense of hope skyrocketed. His body zinged with so much magic that he could barely feel his feet. Eyes full of reflected fire, he said, “Me. Me next. Me!”

  ~~~

  Calder leaned back against the wall of the arena and stared at the darkening sky. He was drenched with sweat, coated with soot and dust, and panting with exhaustion. His hexmates clustered around the water barrel, but he didn’t trust his legs to carry him that far. He hadn’t felt so drained since his Elemental exam. Not even the battle at the Kheerzaal had taken this much out of him. The Savantism check had drained his energy reserves, and his just-completed Avatar exam had nearly killed him, it seemed. If he didn’t eat something quickly, his backbone would start rubbing against the inside of his belly button.

  A shadow fell across his face. Too tired to move anything but his eyeballs, he looked up into the face of Master witten Oost. “Well done, Calder. I’m very proud of your efforts today. I had no doubt that you were strong enough to withstand this test, and I’m proud to welcome you to the rank of Avatar Duelist.”

  Energized by the praise, Calder stood up and leaned against the wall. “Thank you, Master. Good to know you had faith in me. At least someone did.”

  Master witten Oost frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  “Nae, nothing. I just have a disagreement with my hexmates over how to handle a private matter.”

  “Does it regard Bayan? Because I’m afraid—”

  “Nae, not Bayan. I’m trying to look out for him, like you were saying about using the kn
owledge that we gain through our research. But he’s not letting me. I’m afraid he’s going to get hurt, or worse.”

  “There are few things worse than injury, but they are indeed highly unpleasant,” Master witten Oost said. “Walk with me.”

  Calder stepped away from the wall on exhausted legs and followed the headmaster out through the tunnel. Though Master witten Oost headed across campus on what could easily become too long a walk for Calder’s body to withstand, he kept the pace slow. “I sense that you have a deep and troubling problem, and that it stems from your close relationship with Bayan, despite his troubling disregard for authority and procedure.”

  “He’s my best mate. At least, I want him to be. But he’s being naïve and unreasonable, and I canna talk sense into the great stupid oaf. I canna take it much longer.”

  Master witten Oost adopted a thoughtful pout. “And who says that you must? Calder, if something is truly endangering your friend’s life, then you mustn’t hold back from protecting him to the fullest extent of your ability. Just because he can’t see the danger does not mean it isn’t real. It just means he’s in more danger than he knows, and that can go a long way toward explaining his resistance to your point of view. Sometimes, letting our friends choose their own paths is the worst thing we can do for them.”

  Calder nodded. He’d confided his past history—his mother’s ruin—to Master witten Oost soon after he’d started taking the master’s classes, and he knew the teacher spoke the truth. If only his mother had had a good friend to warn her earlier.

  Like Calder had to be for Bayan. “I canna wait. I see that now.”

  “Then I’ll let you go with my blessing. You’ve always been a fine student. I expect nothing about that to change in the future.”

  Calder’s chest filled with pride as he stood beneath his instructor’s gaze. He excused himself from his master’s presence before he lost his nerve and ran to the edge of campus. The short jog left him wobbly, so once he was around the first corner and out of sight, he summoned Marblenose, his Earth avatar. The bumpy creature was formed of enormous marbles like those one would find in a child’s toy collection, and, naturally, had a large round marble stone for a nose. Calder Idled the bumpy avatar to carry him up the side of a cliff and over toward the furthermost cold houses.