Rebel Elements (Seals of the Duelists)

by Giacomo, Jasmine

  Braam sniggered as he shoved the trunk. “Too bad his brain is made of mud.”

  “Bayan’s brain, it works better than yours,” Odjin retorted.

  By now the new avatar students had heaved their chest to the end of the hallway. As they hefted it for carrying upstairs, Taban called back, “Too bad he doesna use it more often.” His hexmates chuckled and disappeared from view up the stairs.

  “Don’t listen to them, Bayan.” Odjin put a hand on Bayan’s shoulder and pulled him back into their room. “We know you’re working as hard as you can.”

  But Bayan wondered if he truly was. He hopped onto his bed, waving Calder onto his own mattress across from him.

  “I’m slowing you down,” Bayan confessed. “I don’t want to overwork you with all the tutoring you’re giving me. Maybe I should ask someone else.”

  Calder snorted. “Eward and Odjin don’t even know as much as I do about the wars and how they were fought. And I only know some details from talking to history buffs at firedust events. We’re all struggling. Unless you can convince Kiwani to teach you. She’s perfect at everything.”

  “She wouldn’t touch me with a Shock punch. She’s never worked out with me in class, not once.”

  “Aye, that’s what I was afraid of.” Calder’s face took on a crafty expression. “But there may be other options we haven’t yet considered.”

  “Like what?”

  “You told me Taban once offered to help you out, for a price. What if he was serious?”

  Bayan’s nose wrinkled. “You want me to ask Taban for help?”

  “Aye, think of it. He’s not as rude as Braam. He’s not a brainless toadie like Cormaac. He’s just now a class ahead of you, so he’ll have a brain full of everything we’re trying to learn. If you can find out what he wants and give it to him, he’ll probably do right by you. It’s a Dunfarroghan point of pride: we’ll trade you fairly, as long as we think we’re getting the better deal.”

  Bayan gave him a suspicious squint. “I canna help it, Bayan. It’s in me bones,” Calder said with injured innocence.

  Bayan rolled his eyes. “All right, I’ll find out what Taban might want to trade for tutoring.” He lay down, praying for sleep to return.

  Whatever I think of to trade with Taban, it’ll have to be simple, menial. I can’t possibly help him with classwork or studying or magic. Maybe I can clean his room. Bayan made a face of disgust in the dark. As if our room isn’t smelly enough.

  ~~~

  The Akrestoi sat in the Flame Arena benches after his history class and blended into the watching crowd, as he had since his target had started her first elemental magic class. He watched more urgently than he had when she’d first arrived on campus. She was dangerous now.

  Yet, despite her abilities, he observed her with complete confidence. He could handle her skills with magic, given the right circumstances. And if such an occurrence never came to fruition, then he would simply remain on campus, living off his employer’s generous stipend.

  This watching and waiting made for one of the most comfortable jobs he’d ever taken. It amused him no end that there was a real possibility he’d never have to kill anyone at all.

  ~~~

  Bayan hesitated before the third-floor door, bare feet chill on the hardwood, and wondered again if this was a good idea. Before he could bring himself to knock, though, the door whipped open.

  Taban stood in the doorway and raised an eyebrow. “Thought I smelled something. Applying for a position as doorstop? You’re hired.”

  Bayan grinned nervously. “Actually, I had a trade in mind. You once offered to help me, for a price.”

  Taban looked over his shoulder, then back at Bayan. “Aye. What did you have in mind?”

  Bayan shifted his feet. “What would you want in exchange for tutoring me?”

  Taban coughed in surprise. “Come again?”

  “You’ve just finished the classes I’m starting. I’m struggling with all this unfamiliar history. None of my hexmates are any better at the individual history of famous duelists than I am—which is saying something—or else they won’t help at all. I figured you’d be the best person to ask.”

  “Canna fault your logic, Bayan. But we’re pretty busy with our own work.” Taban waggled a quill at him. “Got an essay on the lauded and lofty talents of Hexmagic Duelist Karpos Toupoulou due tomorrow.”

  “Well, maybe I can help you with it.”

  Taban laughed.

  “How’s your penmanship, muckling?” Braam called from inside the room. “Last essay, Taban nearly failed because de Rood couldn’t read his scratchings. He says it’s because the elemental seal tattoo made his hand swell, but Corm and I know it’s because he writes like an arthritic epileptic.”

  Bayan blinked at the friendly insult between the hexmates. “I have a fair hand.”

  Taban frowned. “Come in and show me. If it’s better than Braam’s writing—”

  “A panicked chicken’s footprints are more readable!” Cormaac interrupted.

  “—then I’ll consider it,” Taban finished. He backed out of the way and let Bayan enter.

  The older students’ room smelled of candies and sweet rolls. Bayan sat at Taban’s desk and picked up the half-finished essay. “No wonder you nearly failed.”

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing. You have fresh paper?”

  Taban pulled out a clean sheet and handed it to Bayan, who glimpsed the miniature seal tattoo on the back of Taban’s left hand.

  “You like?” Taban displayed the inked art that proclaimed his fresh rank. His skin was puffy, but the image was clear. “You canna steal a tattoo. Better than the golden seals the old duelists used to hang from their belts and strut around with.”

  “And if you do lose it,” Braam added as he mimed lopping off his hand, “you probably didn’t deserve to get it in the first place. Potions, anyone?” He made a one-handed stirring motion as he and Cormaac snickered.

  Bayan tried to ignore them; he squinted at Taban’s first essay sentence for several moments then copied it out in a careful hand.

  Braam and Cormaac stood behind Bayan’s chair to judge his handwriting. “Not bad, for a muckling.” Braam returned to his desk.

  “You write like a girl.” Cormaac briefly mussed Bayan’s hair.

  “A girl with fine penmanship.” Taban leaned against the edge of his desk. “Write the rest out and you’ll earn a tutoring session. At my convenience, of course.”

  “But you haven’t finished the essay.”

  “You can write as I talk.”

  “So, when can I get my first tutoring session?”

  “No idea,” Taban replied with a breezy smile. “Now get writing, indentured.”

  Bayan bristled at the reference but focused on his handwriting. If Taban actually held to his word, Bayan had a few ideas for future trades.

  ~~~

  Bayan headed back through the tunnel on the wooden walkway, carrying an armful of hot, fresh honey rolls from the bakery for Taban and his hexmates. He’d had to trade a future bottle of seerwine for the rolls, and both he and the head baker knew who got the better end of that deal.

  As he crossed past the high cliff walls of the Chantery, which lay roughly at the center of the campus, he heard a familiar giggle from some nearby ornamental trees.

  Curious and concerned, Bayan deviated from his course and eased closer. Soon, he could make out Tarin’s dark red hair, even in the dimness of twilight. Bayan recognized the sounds she and someone else were making: he’d made them in another life with Imee.

  Worried, Bayan hurried over and grabbed her by the arm. Her partner gave a squeak and crashed away through the long-leaved branches before Bayan could catch a glimpse.

  “Are you insane?” he hissed, pushing the honey rolls into Tarin’s arms and forcing her to walk with him.

  He hadn’t pulled her more than three strides from her illicit kissing spot when Instructor Ithrakis walked into view.r />
  Tarin froze at the sight of the authority figure. Bayan whirled to face her. “I told you we had a hex meeting, Tarin,” he said loudly. “You need to come to those every time, not go sneaking off to the bakery for goodies.” He indicated the bag of rolls.

  “S-sorry,” Tarin muttered.

  The Shock teacher moved on, imparting no more punishment than a frown, and both Tarin and Bayan slumped with relief. Then he took her arm and pulled her toward the stairstep hex houses.

  “Are you trying to get expelled? You know what that would do to the hex? We’d be down one member soon after leaving trainee status, and you’d be potioneered with all your limbs intact.”

  “I’m sorry.” Tarin’s voice trembled.

  “Listen. I’m not mad at you. Well, I am. But only because that was so selfish of you. I admit, I’m not the best team player in the hex, but you know Kiwani would eat your face off if she found out.”

  “You willna tell her?”

  Bayan started up the hex house steps to the Earth level. “No. But you need to stop seeing whoever that was. You’re endangering both your career and his.”

  Tarin gave him an unreadable look, but she accompanied him as he reached Taban’s hex house and knocked on the door.

  “What are you doing?” Tarin whispered.

  “Earning my tutoring lessons.”

  The door opened, and Kendesi looked out. “Oh, it’s you.” She turned and called over her shoulder. “Taban, snack time.”

  Taban came to the door and plucked the bag from Tarin’s hand, taking in her wide eyes and nervous pallor. “Look at you, hexling,” he said to Bayan, his voice lazy with approval. “You’re sub-contracting. I’m nearly impressed. Now, off with you. We avatar students have important things to discuss.” He started to close the door.

  Bayan slapped a hand onto it, propping it open. “Are you going to make me ask every single time?”

  Taban smiled. “It is entertaining, aye.”

  Bayan frowned. “Fine. I want to trade. But this time I have something else in mind, besides tutoring.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “You trade for stuff all the time, like you’re in on some secret market network with off-campus ties. Am I right?”

  “Maybe.”

  Bayan grinned. “Do you think you can get me some copper and sulfur, for a start?”

  “For a start? Strange requests will cost you.”

  “I can help, right?” Tarin offered. “I could do something for Kendesi, or Breckan or Aleida.” Bayan looked at her in surprise. She gave him a grateful smile. “I would have gotten caught if you hadna come along.”

  “Oh, look,” Taban said. “The children are bonding. I’ll talk to the girls, Bayan, and let you know tomorrow. But they’re not part of the direct market like I am. I’m the one getting you your copper. Just you remember who you owe.”

  “Of course. Whatever you want in exchange will be fair.”

  Taban nodded and shut the door. Tarin grabbed Bayan’s hand and tugged him into their empty hex house next door.

  “What are you getting into with him?”

  “You mean, what are we getting into with him?” Bayan corrected. “He’s the one who’s been helping me with my history classes. He may be a rude taskmaster with a superiority complex, but he’s making me learn. But I’ve got a new idea, aside from tutoring.”

  “What’s the copper for?”

  Bayan grinned. “Calder.”

  “What’s he going to do with it?”

  Bayan hesitated. “Hopefully, something interesting. Now let’s get out of here. And no more kissing people in the bushes.”

  Tarin blushed as they headed down the stairs. “All right. It wasn’t anything serious, you know. It’s just… Diogenes has been making owl eyes at me since even before we ended up in the same hex.”

  “You were kissing Odjin?” Bayan was stunned.

  “Nae!” Tarin lowered her voice to a whisper. “Nae, I was kissing someone else so I dinna have to think about Odjin. He makes me so uncomfortable sometimes. He always tries to sit by me or work out with me in class. And he doesna seem to notice that I don’t like it. It’s smothering, like being stuck in a hot kitchen with all the windows and doors shut. I just needed to vent my emotions before they made me hurt someone in class.”

  Bayan paused. “You kiss people when you’re upset?” Tarin silently nodded. “Well, that wasn’t quite as selfish as I thought, I guess. And it explains why Odjin’s magic is so wild sometimes.”

  “I’ve always been that way. I used to get in trouble with my mum’s customers, kissing people in the bakery when things upset me. Like the time I burnt a pan of Mum’s specialty almond rolls, and the only other person around when I took the pans out back to scrape off the black was the old swineherd, Roolf. Ugh. Mum thought I’d gone off my nut. I just don’t know what to do with myself. I’m not really very good with confrontation or attraction.”

  Bayan grinned. “Lucky for you, we get to practice confrontation every day. As for attraction, I think that’s something that needs to stay between you and the Void.”

  Tarin nodded, but she didn’t meet his eyes.

  ~~~

  When Bayan got back to the barracks, he found his roommates deep in their studies. Kah was out, but he’d left a shiny rock on his platform.

  “No tutoring tonight?” Eward asked.

  Calder sniffed appreciatively. “What’s that smell?”

  Bayan took a small bag of extra honey rolls from inside his tunic and tossed it to Calder. “They’re probably squished, but considering how many I got for Taban, these won’t be missed. And no, no tutoring tonight.”

  “Taban, he’s not stiffing you, is he?” Odjin asked. Bayan heard the boy’s anger; they were all benefiting now from Taban’s tutoring of Bayan.

  “No, nothing like that.” Bayan edged over to Odjin’s desk in the far corner of the room. Leaning in close, he whispered, “And as far as Tarin is concerned, I’ve just learned that you’re not her type.”

  “What?” Odjin looked up at him, his expression warring between confusion and affront.

  “None of us are.” He nodded his head in a way that included everyone in the room.

  At that, Odjin squinted. “Really?”

  Bayan nodded. “Really.”

  Odjin tipped his head back and sighed at the high ceiling. “Just my luck. Though it does explain her total lack of social skills.”

  Bayan punched him in the shoulder. “It does not. I mean, her skills are fine. You’re the one who’s staring after her all the time.”

  “Suppose there’s no point anymore, is there?”

  “What were you thinking, anyway? We’re duelists. We don’t get lovemates, especially not while we’re still in academy.”

  “Tarin, she’s got all that glorious hair. Never seen anything like it. I kept thinking that, after we graduated, we might… But I never even tried to kiss her or anything. I was careful.”

  “Your magic gave you away long ago, Odjin. You should really try to get back on track. You don’t want to be as bad as I am, do you?”

  Odjin grinned. “No, I don’t. Thanks for telling me, Bayan. You’re a good hexmate.”

  Bayan nodded and sat down to catch up on his own homework. He wasn’t completely sure about the gender of Tarin’s lovemate preference—swineherds aside—but Tarin’s reticence seemed as much a confirmation of another girl’s participation as it was of Tarin’s embarrassment at being caught in an emotionally uncontrolled state. Bayan didn’t want anyone potioneered, whether they were in his hex or not. If he could save three classmates from a devastating fate with a single statement, even if he had to squint at it sideways to make it pass for proven fact, he’d consider it a good deed.

  Firedust

  Calder put his ankle up on the foot of his bed and stretched his tendons, loosening the tightness Diantha had said he might feel after being healed. The willowy chanter had been right. Calder’s tendon was tight as a d
rum. He winced and leaned forward a little more, increasing the stretch.

  He’d been partnered with Kiwani in the Wood Arena, and Cragroot was the spell they were practicing. Kiwani was apparently upset by something, because when she released her spell at Calder, massive, gnarled roots shot up from the arena floor and wrapped around his leg like a vice—and then kept twisting. Cragroot was supposed to be a passive spell, keeping one’s tegen distracted. But this one nearly tore off his leg.

  Kiwani had released the spell as soon as she realized what it was doing, but Cragroot’s usefulness was in its speed. Calder shuddered, recalling the agony that completely overwhelmed him during the few breaths it took Diantha to bolt across the arena to his side. As Calder screamed and Kiwani sobbed in the background, the woman dropped to Calder’s side, Northern Common crystal already in hand, and began chanting.

  That was quite the rush, Calder recalled, thinking of how quickly the pain had vanished. His body had rebounded from agony straight to ecstasy, and Calder had actually laughed on the cold sand of the arena floor.

  “Feeling better?” Bayan surprised Calder out of his memories.

  “Aye. Bit stiff. Diantha said it might take a couple of days to get back to full flexibility, so I need to do this later tonight, too. Don’t let me forget.”

  “I won’t. I have something for you, too.”

  “Is it a spare leg that I could use to hit Kiwani?”

  Bayan chuckled. “No. And you saw how upset she was. She doesn’t have a clue what to do with failure. No need to make her feel worse; that’ll make her magic more unpredictable.”

  “Curse you when you’re right.” Calder lowered his foot back to the floor. “So, what did you get me?”

  Bayan held out a small, dark leather satchel. “I think everything’s in there, but you’ll need to tell me for sure.”

  Frowning in interest, Calder sat at his desk and opened the small bag. Familiar odors wafted out: sulfur, copper, phosphorous, charcoal, zinc, iron, pasteboard, glue. A moment later, sweat popped out on his forehead, and he shoved his chair back from the desk.