edges. How far had this missive traveled? All the way from
Waltney, or from just out in the meadow? I stepped to the window
and looked down, half expecting to see some sinister master
wizard standing below. But all I saw was the open meadow
spreading below me to the tree line.
After a moment I stepped back, lifted the seal, and
unfolded the paper.
Avery— DO NOT CAST A SPELL AS YOU CROSS THE BOUNDARY TODAY. It will not turn out well for you. Any Council member worth his salt will see straight through such a ruse.
I blinked a few times, staring at the words. How did this person—whoever they were—know what my plan was for today?
There is only one spell that will cross the boundary. I wrote it myself. I call it a suspension spell. The key is to wrote it myself. I call it a suspension spell. The key is toBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 159
cast it long before you need it. The spell will remain half completed, neither in effect nor finished, until you cross the magic-canceling boundary, which is what triggers the spell into full effect. Since it was cast long before that time and merely held in suspension, no one will detect that a spell was cast.
I read through the spell’s explanation once more, then continued reading the rest of the letter.
On the subject of your father. You’re safer with him dead, but I see that it bothers you. I’ll leave him alone, at least for now. But if his presence endangers you again, I warn you that I won’t hesitate to end his life.
-I
A separate piece of parchment contained the words of the spell referred to in the letter.
Bones. Who was this man that seemed to know my secret? I couldn’t make out if he were friend or foe. On the one hand he had in all likelihood murdered two relatively innocent men, and on the other hand he seemed to be trying to help me.
I wasn’t sure what to think of it, not that there was anything I could do about it if I decided I didn’t like it.
Most importantly, he’d thrown my plans out the window. Could he be right—or trusted? Should I follow his plan or Orly’s?
***
Beckstead / Shadowed by Death / 160 The master met me as I descended the stairs. “Where have you been, Mullins? We’re going to be late.”
“I—I must have lost track of time.” I glanced past him to the window, trying to get an idea of where the sun stood in the sky. But the window faced south, so it did me little good.
“Come on.” He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me behind him toward the study.
“Wait.” I dug my heels in once we entered the study and he made for the wizard door. “You have to see this letter before we leave. It just arrived. Via my window.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Your window? Who’s it from?”
I shook my head. “Read it.”
With a questioning look, the master took the parchment from my hands and unfolded it. After a moment of scanning the words, his eyes raised to meet mine. “This letter raises at least a dozen questions in my mind, most of which I don’t have time for right now. But none of those are as important as finding out whether or not this spell truly works. Have you tried it?”
“Of course not. I wanted to show it to you first. What if it’s not what it says? What if it’s some other spell meant to—I don’t know—kill Papa?”
He shook his head impatiently. “There’s an element of intent necessary for any spell. You know that. I couldn’t cast a fire spell while intending to levitate a person, for example. It might work, but it would work badly. Like that dust spell you might work, but it would work badly. Like that dust spell youBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 161
cast that took away your ability to cry, rather than killing you.”
I bit my lip. “So you think I should try it?”
“I don’t know about that.” He glanced at the clock on his bookcase. “I do know we’re going to be late, so you’d better decide quickly. Who do you trust more, your friend Orly or this anonymous person who wants to kill your father?”
Put like that, the question seemed ridiculous. “You forgot to add that he may have already killed people on my behalf—and perhaps saved me from discovery in the process. He seems to be trying to help me.”
He shook his head. “The methods are questionable. Come on.” He pushed aside the tapestry and I followed him through to the Conclave, stuffing the missive into my pocket as we did so.
“What if Orly’s wrong?” I hissed at him in a whisper as we crossed a cathedral hall packed with more bodies than I’d ever seen on any trial day.
He stopped amid the press of bodies and put his hands on my shoulders. “Avery, I’m your master and it’s my job to guide you. I’m telling you now that whoever this person is, they have something to hide. Else why the letters rather than a visit in person? And they have an agenda, else why would they contact you at all? The question is, what do they want from you, and are they someone whose debt you want to be in?” He gave me a piercing look as he spoke, head bent to look into my eyes, as if piercing look as he spoke, head bent to look into my eyes, as ifBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 162
trying to impress upon me the full meaning of his words. I closed my eyes and nodded. “All right. I understand. I won’t use this spell.”
“A good choice.” He turned away and continued across the hall.
I just wasn’t sure I agreed.
***
The door to the testing room stood closed. At the table in front of it the master and I gave our names and were directed by a bored clerk to a long hall with several doors off of it. “First room on the right,” he instructed.
“Name?” a tall, hefty wizard with a clipboard asked the master as we approached.
“Wendyn, Garrick.”
He consulted the clipboard. “You’re next. And I suppose this is ‘Mullins, Avery’ you’ve brought with you?” At the master’s nod the man made several marks on the clipboard. “They’ll take you in separately, one at a time. It’s to preserve modesty, you know, should either of you care about that sort of thing.” He shrugged. “There were some complaints.”
Relief flooded me that I wouldn’t have to go in along with the master. I’d been worried about that part.
“I don’t expect this should take very long?” Master Wendyn asked.
The wizard shook his head briskly. “About as long as it The wizard shook his head briskly. “About as long as itBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 163
takes you to disrobe and get dressed again.” Moments later the door opened and an underwizard came out, looking no worse for wear.
“Master Wendyn,” the wizard said nodding his head at the door. “Go on in.”
He did so without looking at me.
Another wizard and underwizard showed up about then, and the tall wizard turned his attention to them. Left to my own devices, I pulled the letter from my pocket and read it over again. Whoever had written it certainly sounded sure of themselves. But they’d also been certain that Papa needed to die. That murdering others was perfectly fine.
Why would they send me a spell unless it was to continue to keep my secret safe?
I flipped the page and read over the spell again.
“This really isn’t fair,” the underwizard complained to the man with the clipboard. “The Council has my affidavits on file. I have better things to do today than undress in front of a roomful of wizards.”
“Relax,” the clipboard-wielder said. “You have nothing to worry about. Unless, of course, you’re a girl.” He laughed at his own joke, and my fist tightened on the letter.
“Have you found any of those today?”
“What, girls? None that I’m at liberty to mention. We’ve had a few boys afraid of the process try to bypass it with had a few boys afraid of the process try to bypass it withBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 164
various spells. The Council doesn’t look kindly on those sorts of things, by the way. I coul
d have told those boys it was no use trying. They have every member of the Council in there responsible for examining a different part of the process, detail by detail. It’s no use trying to fool them.”
My stomach dropped. Maybe Orly’s plan wasn’t such a good one after all. Maybe this anonymous letter-writer actually did know what they were talking about. Maybe I was out of time to decide. Master Wendyn would be returning any minute.
I gulped and clamped my eyes shut, gripping the letter too tightly. It crinkled in my hands, but I barely paid it any notice. Before I could think better of it, I acted, casting the spell from the letter—a suspension spell, if the letter was to be believed—followed up quickly by a gilded tongue spell.
“Last minute studying there, underwizard?” the wizard asked me. “Don’t worry. There’s no studying necessary for this test.”
“It’s a letter from home,” I said, stuffing the parchment into my pocket. “From my father.” Suddenly curious whether my gilded tongue spell truly had been suspended, as the letter said would happen, I peered closer at him to see if he took my words as truth.
“Oh,” he said. Then, after a pause, “You sure about that? It’s not from a sweetheart, is it?” He watched me slyly.
So far so good. No glazed expression, at least.
The door opened and Master Wendyn exited. He gave me a The door opened and Master Wendyn exited. He gave me aBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 165
stiff smile. “Thoroughly painless.” But I could see worry in the lines of his smile. He wasn’t sure about this.
Neither was I.
One deep breath, and I pushed past him.
***
Wooden walls extended to form a space much smaller than the testing room, with a ring of occupied chairs at the center.
“Right this way, Underwizard…Mullins,” said a wizard in the center of the circle, consulting a parchment. “Join us in the center, remove your clothes, turn in a circle, and then you’re free to go.”
Nerves moved through my belly, and I thought I might be sick. I gulped it back and forced my lips to move. “Of course.” My feet shuffled across the room and then, limbs quaking, I stepped into the circle.
The boundary had been crossed. Hadn’t it? I hadn’t felt anything. Then again, I didn’t usually feel anything on the testing dais.
“Go ahead,” said the man with the parchment. “Disrobe.”
My fingers automatically went to my wizard robes and began unbuttoning. I’d spent the last week thinking about the best way to phrase what I had to say to those within this circle. I didn’t suppose it mattered much how I said it, as long as it was said loud enough that everyone could hear.
I cleared my throat and dropped my hands.
“What are you waiting for?” the parchment-holder said. “We’d take it kindly if you didn’t hold up the process.”
I drew in a breath and then spoke loudly. “You have seen that I am a boy, and you don’t need to see any more.”
No one spoke. My eyes swept the group, then focused on the wizard straight in front of me. His eyes hung droopy and halflidded, confused. My gaze moved to the wizard next to him, and the next, and the next. Glazed expressions, all.
“Yes…you are a boy,” the parchment-holder mumbled. He groped at his pen, fingers suddenly clumsy. It dropped and rolled.
I dared a look around the circle at the wizards behind me and encountered the same expression. Even PMW Robenhurst sat as glassy-eyed as any of them.
My fingers fumbled at my robes, re-buttoning them. Was this really it? Had it worked?
The wizard finally picked up his pen and managed to mark at his clipboard. “The…underwizard is a boy,” he mumbled again.
“Then…I may go?” I asked, my voice almost tremulous.
He gave his head a shake, as though trying to clear it. “Yes. You may go. Thank you.”
With limbs that trembled, I turned and walked from the circle without looking back.
I had just spelled the entire Wizard Council and Preeminent Master Wizard.
# CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Master Wendyn darted curious looks at me as we wound through the Conclave the way we had come. “All right, let’s have it,” he said, the moment the wizard door closed behind us in his study. “What did you do? What happened?”
I steeled myself for his irritation at being disobeyed, pulled the parchment out of my pocket, and held it up. “I used the unknown spell. And it worked.”
He stared for a moment, then gave a short bark of a laugh. “I might have known you’d go with the unknown spell. Never afraid to run madly into the face of danger, that’s Avery Mullins.”
I returned the parchment to my pocket as he sank into the chair behind his desk. “Madly? If I weren’t so relieved, I might be insulted. So…are you angry?”
He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “I think this whole experience has taken ten years off my life. I thought—I don’t know what I thought.”
“You thought you were going to get caught with a counterfeit apprentice and dragged before the Council,” I suggested. “But you didn’t. It was fine.”
“No. I thought you were going to get caught and dragged before the Council.” His eyes rested on me, serious in their before the Council.” His eyes rested on me, serious in their
Beckstead / Shadowed by Death / 168 weight and intensity. It almost sounded like the master would have cared if I’d been caught. “Don’t worry. If I’m ever found out I’ll tell them you don’t know anything. That I lied to you about my gender.” I leaned against the arm of the chair opposite his desk.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
I blinked. “Well, sure. I’ll see to it they know you’re innocent. You’ll be safe. Un-Punished.”
“And who’s going to see to it that you’re safe? UnPunished?”
“That’s kind of on me, isn’t it?” I picked up a knickknack from the desk—a round glass orb with a milky swirl visible within—and fiddled with it. “Anyway, what with you being an old man already, you probably shouldn’t be joking about aging ten years.”
His mouth fell open. “Old man? Who’s an old man? I’m not even ten years older than you.”
“That doesn’t make you sound any younger.”
He pushed to his feet and came around the desk to snatch the orb from me. “Leave that alone. You’re going to break it.” He stared down at the orb in his hands, then set it on the desk behind him. “And I am not an old man.”
I felt perversely pleased to have drawn him out of his strange mood, although this mood was far more defensive. “Fine. I take it back.”
For a moment he looked down at me, his expression dark and unreadable. I half expected him to offer more proof of his youth, but he just turned to move back around the desk and resume his former seat. “Now that we’re cleared to move on to the second half of your apprenticeship, you should know that we’ll be more like partners than master and pupil. Prepare yourself to shoulder more responsibility.”
“What sort of responsibility?” I asked curiously.
“Oh, healing requests, calls for assistance, dirty work around the manor. That’s one of the perks of having an apprentice. You’re here to take some of the load off me.”
“I’m willing,” I said. “And my first official act as your partner will be to send Papa back to Waltney.”
“Very funny.”
“I’m not joking. The letter from this morning. They said they’d leave Papa alone.”
He tilted his head to the side. “Didn’t they also say they’d gladly kill him if the situation called for it?”
“Well,” I said grudgingly, “Not exactly in those words.”
His expression changed to exasperation. “More or less. Come on, Mullins. Have some empathy.”
“Empathy?” I echoed. “I am brim full of empathy for people who deserve it. But there are some things that cannot be forgiven.”
He frowned, and I could tell I’d displeased him.
But he He frowned, and I could tell I’d displeased him. But heBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 170
only said, “Never mind. You’d better go make sure he hasn’t started anything on fire.”
I left, wishing that I understood what he wanted from me.
***
We returned to my regular studies beginning the next day. Master Wendyn met me in the library after breakfast with arms full of weapons of every variety which he laid out on one of the library tables. “The eleventh trial is rudimentary combat,” he informed me as he lined them up neatly. “It's unlikely that you'll have many opportunities to fight in battle, thanks to the peace accords among the three kingdoms—in place for centuries now—but it's good to be prepared. When you reach advanced combat you'll learn how to battle with spells, but in rudimentary combat you'll learn how to best man-made weapons. Like these.” He waved at the short sword, long sword, crossbow, and bow with a quiver of arrows sitting next to it. “Master Uphammer trained me for the eleventh trial using this dagger,” he said, and pulled a wicked-looking blade from his belt. “I'll train you using the same. Take it.” He offered me the dagger, hilt out.
My breath hitched. “Do I…have to?” Something about the sharp edges made me queasy.
“Only if you want to pass the eleventh trial.”
I stared at the blade. “I’d really rather not touch it.”
“And I didn't want to sleep on the floor the other night, but I did it anyway.” Taking my hand, he closed it around the but I did it anyway.” Taking my hand, he closed it around theBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 171
dagger’s hilt. “There. Get comfortable with the feel of it. You can’t understand what you are afraid of.” A sickness built in the pit of my stomach. “I’m not afraid of it. I just have a healthy respect for it.”
“And when I take that dagger and throw it at you, is your healthy respect going to protect you?” he countered. “I haven’t even gotten to the hard part yet. Right now I just want you to hold it. In a moment I’m going to ask you to throw it at me.”
I drew a breath and steeled myself. No. This was nothing like last winter with Matthias Kurke, when he’d forced me to stab Ivan, nearly killing him. “All right. I’m comfortable with it. Now what?”
Shadowed by Death Page 13