Shadowed by Death

by Jane Beckstead

  I glanced aside at Ivan and decided not to cut Papa down the way he probably deserved. “Yeah, you are,” I agreed. “That’s why you’re here. Just don’t make me regret it.”

  “You were more bearable when your mother was alive,” he muttered, and went back to silently sipping his tea.

  ****

  I knocked on the door to Master Wendyn’s study after breakfast. No answer. I turned the handle and peeked inside. He lay hunched over, asleep on his desk.

  The door closed silently behind me, and I stepped closer to look down at him. He looked exhausted—and peaceful. This might look down at him. He looked exhausted—and peaceful. This mightBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 117

  be the first sleep he’d gotten since I woke him last night. After a moment’s hesitation, I poked him in the shoulder. He sat up, startled.

  “So this is where you’ve been all morning,” I said. “Have you eaten?”

  He scrubbed at his face before turning bleary red eyes on me. “Eaten? Yes. I just haven’t slept.”

  “Papa told me what you did. Why didn’t you just lock him in a room somewhere?”

  He frowned and sat back in his chair. “We both saw the kind of trouble he can get into when left to his own devices. Leaving him unattended didn’t seem like a good idea.”

  He had a point there. “Well, then why didn’t you make him sleep on the floor? It didn’t have to be you.”

  “Do you understand the gravity of our situation? Your father could expose both of us at any moment. Keeping him happy is in our best interests.”

  I bit my lip and thought of the squabble Papa and I had just had at the breakfast table. I certainly wasn’t doing my part to keep him happy. “I suppose I’ll have to try harder with him. And before I forget, today is Ivan’s natalis.”

  “What? How did you find that out?”

  “He doesn’t know when it really is, so he picked a day to celebrate it. Today. I hope that’s all right.”

  “I suppose it’ll have to be. How old is he turning?” “Fifteen, I guess.”

  “Ahhh, they grow up so fast.” He stood with a sigh and grabbed his robes from their hook. “We’d better get to the Conclave. For your information, I brewed the potion for cravings before bed last night. Your father drank the first dose before slipping into a noisy slumber in my bed.”

  I followed him to the wizard door. “I don’t think it’s working. He’s still asking for wine this morning.”

  He shrugged. “Can’t do anything about the habit he’s developed, but it’s not his body asking for it, that’s sure.”

  That made me feel a little better. “Will he be all right here by himself, do you think?”

  He looked at the study door as if having second thoughts. “I’ve given Mrs. Pitts strict orders to keep an eye on him.”

  “And if he spills my secret?”

  He shook his head. “Oblivions all around, I suppose.”

  I stared after him as he swung his robes on and opened the door. There had to be a better solution. But I couldn’t think what it might be.

  #

  CHAPTER NINE

  We arrived in the cathedral hall to find a handful of people milling about. More than one would normally find at the Conclave during business hours, but significantly less than most trial days.

  As we crossed the room, I saw three workmen disassembling one memorial in the line of other memorials. Curious, I stepped closer.

  Here lies the barrel of Keturrah Ingerman, I read as one of the workmen pried the plaque off the front of the wood platform holding the remnants of a barrel. This was the barrel used to perform her Punishment, Faronna’s method of capital punishment. She was the only other female underwizard that I knew of, and she’d been put to death when her gender was discovered.

  “What's going on?” I asked.

  One of the workmen looked up. He held an armful of splintered wood remnants. The Punishment involved rolling down a hill in a barrel full of acid-dipped nails, which was then ensorcelled to explode once it stopped moving. It wasn’t surprising the barrel was in so many pieces, honestly. It was more surprising that they’d found any remnants at all.

  He shrugged. “Moving the barrel out. PMW's orders.”

  I watched them a moment longer, pondering what it meant. The timing seemed too coincidental. Why now, after the Council had started implementing gender tests? But I couldn't make the facts align with any larger truth in my head. Master Wendyn nudged me after a moment, and we moved along to the registration table. After signing in, we received a trial time more than an hour away.

  “I’m going to go say hello to Orly,” I told the master, “I’m going to go say hello to Orly,” I told the master,Beckstead / Shadowed by Death / 120

  since we had extra time. “I’ll meet you inside.”

  “Don’t wander too far away,” the master warned. “In case

  anything changes.”

  Clearly the last trial had made us both jumpy. I nodded and

  head for the library.

  Only a handful of underwizards and wizards filled the

  tables today. A quick scan of the giant room showed Orly

  carrying a stack of books, headed down an aisle near the north

  wall of the library. I couldn’t very well shout her name, so I

  followed her discreetly, trying to behave as though I was not

  following her.

  I found her in an aisle of defense spells and browsed my

  way in her direction.

  “Sssst. Orly. Orly!” I hissed, once I was near enough. She looked around. “Avery? Oh good, you came for the

  retests! I was so worried you wouldn’t know how important it was

  to be here.” She wore a red dress, less wrinkled than usual, and

  her hair lay over one shoulder in a neat braid. “Where’s your

  master?” She looked around, as if expecting to find him lurking

  around a corner somewhere.

  “Master Wendyn’s waiting for me in the testing room.” With

  a quick glance around, I cast a privacy spell around us. No

  sense in risking being overheard.

  “I heard what happened at the last trial. I was so

  worried.”

  “You think you were worried? I thought I was going to die.” “I’m glad you didn’t.”

  I looked at her out of the corner of my eye, trying not to

  look as though we were having a conversation, though we were.

  “Have you changed your mind yet?”

  “About?”

  “You know. This master wizard thing.”

  Orly’s chin jutted out. “Never.”

  My head lifted in a brisk nod, and I leaned closer to

  examine a book entitled Shield Spells for Advanced Wizards. “I

  just want you to be sure.”

  “I’m certain. I've been thinking about that gender spell,

  the one Robenhurst is working on for the trials.”

  I looked at her straight on now, so surprised by the words

  that I was heedless of who might be watching. “Do you know

  something about it?”

  “The Council came in here several weeks ago and cleaned the

  place out of any books on gender spells. They've moved them all

  down to the vault.”

  “Friar’s bones.” I gritted my teeth and faced the books

  again. “I was hoping you'd know where I could find information

  on them.”

  Orly’s voice turned sly. “Well, I never said I didn't, did

  I?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You know I’m a voracious reader. With my future plans, of

  course I read as much as I can about gender spells. Not every

  book in the whole section, no, but a good selection of them.” I turned toward her eagerly now. “Oh, Orly, I could just

  hug you.” Orly’s memory was practically perfect. She rememb
ered

  everything she read.

  The smile on her face had definitely become smug. “It

  doesn't mean I know how to get around the gender spell, though.

  That depends entirely on how Robenhurst chooses to cast it. But

  there'll be a way around it. You can be sure of that.” “You're going to be my favorite apprentice,” I said. She shrugged and fussed with her braid. “I know.” I bid Orly farewell before selecting the shield spell book,

  as well as another about the eleventh trial, so that my visit to

  the library would seem innocuous to anyone who might have

  observed it. Back in the testing room, an underwizard stood on

  the dais in the midst of what must be the fourteenth trial—

  mastery over physical discomfort, judging by the clear grimace

  of agony on his face. He looked to be enduring some sort of pain

  spell. His face seemed familiar, and after a moment his identity

  came to me. He was the dark-haired boy with prominent eyebrows

  that was so short-tempered during my stay in the waiting room

  after failing the gender test.

  The master stood off to one side, near the window, and I

  made my way to his side. He nodded when he saw me and bent to made my way to his side. He nodded when he saw me and bent toBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 123

  whisper in my ear. “See that boy’s master on the dais? That’s Hammond Ecklebert.” I perked up. Hammond Ecklebert was the fastest master wizard of all time, having achieved all his levels and Postulate in only eleven months. He was famous among wizards. I strained to see over the heads of the people in front of me.

  While his stature was impressive, the rest of him wasn’t much to speak of. He had faded blond hair that might have been going white, a slight stoop, and a forgettable face. He looked so ordinary that I was halfway disappointed. He was just a man, like any other.

  The test completed, and Master Ecklebert and his apprentice descended from the dais. The test proctor announced a pass.

  Of course he had passed. Hammond Ecklebert was his master.

  “Tenth trial. Candidate Avery Mullins,” the proctor called.

  The master and I took our places on the dais. The test proceeded much the same as it had the last time—with the exception of the gender test. Instead, the proctor asked me to raise my hand to the square and swear that I was a boy. I did so, and the test concluded.

  “Pass,” the test proctor intoned, and though I wasn’t surprised, the word brought an enormous sense of relief. I followed Master Wendyn through the crowd, accepting the congratulations from the few who gave it.

  A tug at my sleeve. “Hey, Avery, stick around for my A tug at my sleeve. “Hey, Avery, stick around for myBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 124

  trial.” I turned to see Rumford, his bright hair and lopsided grin a welcome sight. “Oh, is it your turn soon?” I asked.

  “Got to be any time now,” he responded, at the same time the proctor called out another name. Rumford bounced forward on the balls of his feet. “Wish me luck!” he said with an impish grin, and started for the dais, his master close behind.

  I hurried to catch up with Master Wendyn, who hadn’t stopped to wait for me. “I’m going to stay and watch,” I told him. “Rummy’s a friend.”

  His gaze flicked to the dais. “All right. Find me when you’re done.” He continued moving through the crowd.

  Another mastery over discomfort trial. Once underway, I watched Rumford endure a series of pain-inducing spells, several of which looked horrific. Nor was he allowed to use any spells to dull the pain, as that would negate the purpose of the trial.

  No one looked forward to taking the fourteenth trial. And now poor Rumford—as well as Hammond Ecklebert’s underwizard—had taken it twice. It hardly seemed fair.

  I looked around for Master Wendyn about that time and saw him deep in conversation with a bespectacled wizard near the door.

  “On the occasion of taking the fourteenth trial, the underwizard has passed,” announced the proctor at the close of the trial. Rumford punched a fist at the ceiling, and a ripple the trial. Rumford punched a fist at the ceiling, and a rippleBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 125

  of laughter moved through the testing room. His master frowned and led his apprentice away from the dais. I sought Rumford out at the back of the testing room, eager to convey my congratulations.

  “Be honest with me, Rummy,” I said. “Just how much pain were you really in?”

  He turned from the worshipful young underwizard he’d been talking to. “Oh, I wanted to die,” he reassured me. “The biggest miracle is that I didn’t scream or cry out this time.”

  Bones, I wasn’t looking forward to that trial.

  “Did you see Colwyn’s trial?” he asked. “How would you say I compared to him?”

  “Colwyn?” I echoed. “Oh, Hammond Ecklebert’s apprentice? That bad-tempered boy?”

  Rumford made a face. “That's him.”

  I shrugged. “I don't know. I thought he did all right. Not as good as you.”

  Rumford looked pleased.

  “It’s surprising that Hammond Ecklebert doesn’t have a nicer apprentice.”

  “Yeah,” Rumford said. “It is, isn’t it.” He dusted his hands on his robes and, after a pause continued casually, “He's my father, you know.”

  I blinked, startled. “Excuse me?”

  “Hammond Ecklebert. He's my father.”

  Beckstead / Shadowed by Death / 126 “I—n-no. I didn’t know.” I couldn’t think what to say. That is, if it were possible to speak with my foot in my mouth.

  “It never occurred to you? Rumford Ecklebert?”

  “I guess I wasn’t paying attention.” The proctor would have said it earlier. Probably even more than once. “My thoughts are elsewhere today.” Trying not to die over my gender.

  He snorted. “Apparently.”

  “So what’s it like?”

  “What?”

  “You know. Being the son of the famous Hammond Ecklebert. The fastest master wizard ever. Did you perform your first spell as a toddler, like he did? Are you going to match his time? Or beat it? What's your mother like?”

  “Hoo boy. Here they come. All the questions.”

  I shrugged. “Sorry.”

  “Truthfully, it’s just a lot of pressure. My grandfathers were both master wizards too, so there's a lot expected of me. I hope that I can deliver, that's all.”

  “Why wouldn't you? Obviously you can do magic.” You didn’t make it past trial fourteen if you didn’t.

  He shook his head and toed the ground. “It's just that stupid Colwyn,” he said at last. “He gets under my skin.”

  “He is pretty rude. Why'd your father pick him to be his apprentice and not you?”

  Rumford looked up, surprise written across his freckled Rumford looked up, surprise written across his freckledBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 127

  face. “I’ll assume you don't have any master wizard relatives. It's the nepotism rule. You can't be apprenticed to a relative. Besides, if we were, I think Da and I might kill each other. We're not much alike.”

  “But still, he's your father. You must have something in common.” I blinked as I realized I could just as easily say those own words about Papa and me.

  “Oh, sure. We have magic in common. The love of my mother. A preference for adventure novels. But other than that we mostly want to kill each other. It doesn’t help that Da likes Colwyn better than me. That's why I've decided I'm going to become a master wizard before he does.”

  “You’re neck and neck so far. What about your Postulate?” He grinned. “Started it already. Got approval from the Council and everything. If I keep on schedule, I'll finish my testing in two months. Then I just have to complete my Postulate, which I hope to be done with two months after that.”

  I shook my head. “Wow. That's some schedule. Will that beat you
r father's time?”

  “Not by a long shot,” he said, without concern. “I started pretty young. Messed around a lot. I only got serious about this once that buffoon Colwyn showed up, since I can't stand him.”

  “At least you’re motivated.” My thoughts turned to my own trials. Maybe it was time I tried a little harder too. My gaze shifted to the master, where he conversed with the bespectacled shifted to the master, where he conversed with the bespectacledBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 128

  wizard. We’d been getting on so much better these days that I almost hated to think about leaving when I finished all my trials someday. It was nice to feel as though I had someone on my side, to not be alone. I hadn’t felt that way in a long time. But I’d also made a promise to Orly to finish my training quickly so I could become her master. Was I short-changing her by not trying as hard as I really should?

  The master’s gaze shifted and he caught me staring at him. He raised an eyebrow and motioned at the door.

  “I’d better go,” I said, looking back at Rumford. “Good luck on the next trial.”

  ***

  Master Wendyn and I passed through the wizard door into his study. He yawned and rubbed at his face, still looking exhausted. “I think I could fall asleep right now.”

  For the first time I remembered what had made him so very tired—Papa.

  “Why don’t you go get some rest? I’ll make sure Papa hasn't burned the house down. And remember, it’s Ivan’s natalis.”

  We exited the study and walked down the hall. Voices arose near the sitting room—a woman's chatter interspersed with a deeper voice. Curiosity pulled me closer to the open door.

  “You’re joking,” Valerie’s voice said. “A girl?”

  Master Wendyn and I exchanged a concerned glance before we stepped to the doorway.

  “That’s right,” Papa said, leaned back against the chaise lounge with one arm slung over the back. Valerie sat across from him, her back to us. Over near the window sat Ivan, reading a book. “Except when it's a cow we call it a heifer, you know. Avery refused to accept the sad fact of the cow’s gender and named her Byron.”

  Valerie broke into laughter.

  “Papa, what are you telling Valerie?” I asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of my voice. I didn’t like the thought of him telling Valerie stories of my younger years.