by Clark Bolton
“How’s your spell-book coming along?” Bose asked to change the subject.
Ich-Mek couldn’t help but look down the alley to make sure no one else was near. He had been fixated on Tang’s little book ever since seeing it. The tiny arcane-script had seemed even more mysterious than the many scrolls he had copied to this point. To have a book with a dozen or more spells in it had become an obsession, he admitted to himself.
“I made a page…” he admitted in a hushed voice, “…but I burned it.”
“Why?” Rish asked.
“Because he thinks the Pus-Don will find it,” Bose interjected.
Ich-Mek nodded his head. “I can’t take that risk.”
“Why not?” Bose asked incredulously. “They won’t expel you.”
“You don’t know that.”
A few moments passed before Rish added, “Tang says they won’t. Not if you are on the prime path.”
“Have you talked to him again?” Ich-Mek asked.
They were able to meet only every two or three days, mostly because he was too busy. His friends often complained they couldn’t wake him up, no matter how hard they knocked on his window.
“Yeah, and he wants to talk with you again,” Bose replied. “Gave me this to give to you.”
Ich-Mek accepted the scroll Bose offered him, then looked around to make sure no one was watching them. Unrolling it a bit, he realized immediately it was a spell-scroll. Thankful for the mist that hung in the air, Ich-Mek nonetheless thought it best to seek the partial cover of some bushes before he began examining the scroll more closely.
“What is it?” he asked as he skimmed through the arcane-script.
“A refresh spell,” Bose replied in a hushed voice as he peeked over Ich-Mek’s shoulder. “Supposed to help you teach…”
Ich-Mek looked to his friends, both of whom were looking rather ashamed of themselves at the moment. “Teach you, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
“At night!” Ich-Mek said with emphasis as he thought about how tiring this was becoming.
He was helping Rish nearly every other day, and Bose as well. With Rish it was mostly language studies, but with Bose it was all magecraft, which he enjoyed doing but knew he couldn’t keep it up for ever. One of them was bound to slip and then he would be in real trouble for cross-class teaching of runes and arcane-script. At least what he helped Rish with wouldn’t likely get him expelled, he guessed.
With a big sigh Ich-Mek asked, “So how is this supposed to help?”
Bose grinned meekly at him and said, “So you don’t need to sleep so much.”
Ich-Mek frowned at the thought before glancing back down at the scroll again for a while. “Sounds dangerous,” he muttered.
“It’s not!” Bose exclaimed. “Least not if you don’t use it every day, Tang says.”
Ich-Mek stared at Bose for a moment then gave Rish a glare, to which the boy simply shrugged apologetically. It was clear Bose really did want to hone his magecraft, and he really couldn’t blame his friend. The more and more he learned the further his studies seemed to diverge from Bose’s, not to mention from what Rish studied.
Ich-Mek reluctantly rolled up the scroll and stuffed it into his robes. “Does Tang want another scroll?” he asked, to change the subject.
“Didn’t say he did. Think he wants you to do something for him.”
Ich-Mek felt he could guess what Tang wanted. “Something about the second peg-board?”
“Don’t think so,” Bose said. “Keeps mumbling about his girl, and his family.”
“What’s he want me to do about it?”
“Why don’t you go talk to him?”
Ich-Mek shook his head. “Why do you spend so much time in that cave?”
“Who else is going to teach me cantrips?” Bose asked with a tight smile.
“You shouldn’t learn from others! They may not be proper ones.”
“Then teach me more proper ones!”
“Ahhhh,” Ich-Mek growled at his friends in imitation of Tang. “I don’t know any more than I’ve taught you!”
Both his friends looked skeptically at him. It was obvious that if he copied cantrips he then likely knew the cantrip. Which was true to a point.
“Fine!” Bose replied sarcastically. “I’ll just learn them in the cave.”
Ich-Mek looked down ashamedly. “Which ones do you know?” he asked softly.
Bose then admitted he could light candles now, cause objects to glow brightly, and even detect magic. Rish explained he had only mastered the glow cantrip. Ich-Mek thought about the dozen or so cantrips he knew now. He had been warned by his masters that if he didn’t occasionally use them, he risked forgetting them.
“I’m supposed to use them more,” Ich-Mek admitted.
“Then show us,” Bose said impatiently.
“Maybe in the cave.”
__________________________
“We can take them!” Bose suggested enthusiastically.
Ich-Mek couldn’t suppress a smile at the thought of knocking the boisterous boys above them off their pedestal. They had gotten only a short distance into the cave this time before threats followed up by rock-throwing had stalled them. A big group of boys were on the so-called mountain that stood just inside the cave entrance, and were threating any and all newcomers. This king-of-the-hill behavior was typical at times in the cave, but as of late had become more reckless and intense.
“Come on! We can push them off with cantrips,” Bose insisted.
Rish looked skeptical, Ich-Mek could see, but wasn’t actually objecting to the idea. Ich-Mek had filled their arsenal of cantrips with every one he could lay his hands on, and had been teaching them to his two friends almost nightly. This included the push cantrip Bose had alluded to as well as cloud, stink, and stumble cantrips to name a few.
“Ok!” Ich-Mek replied as he let the thrill of battle take over.
“I’ll do a stumble and you do a blind on that big boy at the same time!” Bose hissed.
With a coordinated nod they stood up and cast simultaneously. It wasn’t until a moment or two later that Ich-Mek realized Rish had gotten in on the act as well. Ich-Mek’s blind spell had stopped the boy in his tracks, the large piece of slate he had in his hand remaining unthrown, and Bose’s stumble spell came just at the right time to accent Rish’s use of the push cantrip. The result was that the targeted boy seemed to almost fly back off the mountain, landing with a scream and a thud.
“Again!” Bose yelled as he advanced up the loose shale of the mountain.
Finding the push cantrip more to his liking, Ich-Mek let a series of them fly endlessly until the mountain was theirs. As the three of them stood on the peak they had only a few moments to relish their victory before they realized some of their foes might be seriously injured. Some, in fact, hardly moved at all as they lay at the base of the far side of the mountain.
“Come on!” Bose urged as he tugged on Ich-Mek’s sleeve in an attempt to get Ich-Mek to follow him back down the way they had come. “They’ll be ok!”
Ich-Mek doubted this, but didn’t resist running away with his friends. They intended to meet with Tang, and so headed that way as fast as they dare run in the near-darkness of the cave. Their running, however, drew the attention of another group of rowdy boys who once again used height advantage to rain rocks down upon them.
“Cloud,” Ich-Mek hissed as he cast that very cantrip.
The cloud that appeared was little wider than Ich-Mek’s outstretched arms, but he knew it would last for a while, and if he cast more he could maybe obscure the enemies’ view of them entirely. Both Rish and Bose took up his suggestion, so soon the ledge from which the boys were attacking was in a thick mist. When they switched to stink cantrips their enemy became too occupied with thoughts of escape to harass them more.
“Run!” Bose yelled as he raced on deeper into the cave.
__________________________
Tang at first didn’t seem h
appy to see them. The man stared at Ich-Mek in the gloom as he chewed on something slowly. The stench of the ledge, and the man, was nearly as off-putting as the silence.
“You need to find the third boy,” Tang said finally, and with a confident nod of his head added, “Then you’ll know.”
Ich-Mek looked at his two friends before asking quietly, “You mean the other dragon-boy?”
Tang nodded his head several times. “You’re in that class with one, right?”
“Think so.”
“Find the other! If there is more than one, then one of you ain’t on the prime path.”
“What good does it do him to know?” Bose asked. “He can’t escape the dragon, can he?”
Bose looked at him with pity written on his face. They both knew if he was prime, and if Tang was right, then his odds of survival were slim. That was if he let it be, Ich-Mek told himself. It was clear Bose had been picking up more tidbits of information from Tang, which Ich-Mek found a little odd. It made him wonder how close the two were becoming.
“No escaping the dragon,” Tang said dryly. “Can help, maybe. Make sure you’re the one chosen.”
Ich-Mek frowned as he wondered how that would be possible. “Do you know how they choose the one?”
Tang went silent for a while, then stood up and began pacing about. “I…saw them lined up,” he said. “The other boys in your form, and those with the other two, they will be there when the palace-mages are brought in. I was…right behind Naun-Bu.”
“You saw the dragon?” Bose dared to ask.
Tang went silent again, then apparently ignored the question. “If you were to stand up…and go to the platform. It’s only a few steps!” Tang said loudly. “You could be chosen ahead of the others.”
Ich-Mek shook his head in dismay. He just couldn’t imagine doing such a thing. The ceremony would be choreographed to the nth degree, like all others at Key-Tar-Om. No boy would dare not play his part precisely. It was one of the reasons he suspected he was dragon-boy; he was the best at acting.
“What if they don’t choose anyone?” Rish asked in despair. “You said they sometimes don’t.”
Tang shook his head sadly. “Then you wait with the rest of them.”
“You mean for the dragon?” Rish asked hesitantly.
“Yes…the dragon,” Tang said in a distant voice. “It will come after the palace-mages leave…after darkness.”
“Could he run?” Bose asked in frightened voice. “Or hide somewhere?”
“They are sealed in,” Tang replied. “As soon as the mages are carried off on their stretchers, the doors are sealed.”
Ich-Mek looked around at everybody then smiled nervously. “What do they look like?” he asked. “The mages, I mean.”
Tang grinned at him, “Old! Can’t walk, some of them. That’s why the Pus-Don carry them. One of them looked like he was just bones.”
No one spoke for a few moments before Bose asked with a sad face, “Time to make them choose someone then, huh?”
Tang turned to Bose and nodded his head in agreement. “Time, maybe, to choose!”
“Or die,” Ich-Mek said in a whisper.
“Still think you should run,” Rish told him shamefully.
“No!” Tang quickly said. “That could make others suffer for his crime.”
“Would they blame us?” Rish asked, eyes wide.
“No,” Tang said, before starting to pace again. “You need to find the third boy,” he reiterated. “Do that first…then you must do something for me!” Tang declared as he pointed at Ich-Mek.
When no one replied after a few moments, Bose asked, “Why does he have to help you, Tang?”
“Because only then will I help him!”
Ich-Mek could see Tang was getting worked up again. “I’ll do it. I’ll find the third, but because I want to know if there are more than one.”
“Good,” Tang replied. “If only one more, then you can dare to do what I ask.”
Ich-Mek didn’t like the sound of that. “You want me to find the second peg-board.”
Tang smiled, saying, “True…but only after this. Ledgers that the administrators keep on all of us…I want you to find mine. Bring a copy of the entries to me.”
Ich-Mek lowered his head as he thought about all the aspects of this request. He had vague memories of his name being recorded in a huge book, along with the other children that had arrived at Key-Tar-Om with him. Masters had suggested that problem boys would have their infractions noted in such a book.
“Why do you need it?”
Tang got a very serious look on his face, and then seemed about to pass out. “My family…and my fiancée…will be in it.” He then pleaded with Ich-Mek, “You must show me what has happened to them!”
“He will get expelled!” Rish argued, as did Bose.
“No he won’t,” Tang insisted with a shake of his head. “Find the third boy…if you are one of the three then it is too late for Regent Ober-Toss to expel you.”
“Are you sure?” Ich-Mek asked doubtfully. “If they catch me, why would they not?”
“Because it would bring great dishonor on the school!” Tang declared as he walked right up to Ich-Mek. “It is mid-year…there is no time to train another dragon-boy. Regent Ober-Toss would be recalled to the capital in disgrace.”
__________________________
Finding the third boy was not a difficult task for Ich-Mek, though forcing himself to do it was. It meant asking questions he was not intending to ask, and visiting places it was not intended for him to visit.
Tang’s spell-book was the motivation he needed to break so many rules. The book was shown to him again so that he could see the copy spell written in it. With it he could make a flawless copy of Tang’s records in but an instant. So now the plan was simple. Find the third boy, then with confidence he could memorize the copy spell from the book.
He had accepted the spell-book from Tang with a racing heart, and now had it hidden in his cell. Whenever he had the time, he would page through it lovingly. The tiny book seemed beyond magical, which, of course, it was, he knew. There were fourteen spells in it, and another eighteen cantrips.
At first he had tried to estimate how long it would take him to copy the entire contents of the book. But common sense had made him give up that dream. He didn’t have enough ink or paper to accomplish the task, even if he found the time. Fifteen sleepless nights, he figured; at a minimum.
“May I ask you a question, Lu-Bod?” Ich-Mek dared to finally ask of the boy, when he felt the time was right.
Lu-Bod was the only other boy in the course, and they were currently sitting alone. The instructors were busy on their own table, and were far enough away for him to be confident they wouldn’t overhear. He was starting to feel very guilty now, as this in some distant way could involve his survival over Lu-Bod’s. Telling himself Tang’s story was possibly just fantasy gave him the nerve to act.
“Yes, Ich-Mek. How may I serve you?” Lu-Bod replied sincerely.
Swallowing hard, then smiling as best he could, he asked, “Do you have a course with only one other boy…like this one?”
If the answer was yes, it meant he had likely found the third boy. If no, it meant he would have to look further. Tang had suggested that the third boy would either have a class with just Lu-Bod, or would have a class entirely to himself. Ich-Mek wasn’t sure how he could find the boy if the latter turned out to be the case.
Lu-Bod looked a bit put out at the question and glanced nervously toward the instructors. “No, I have a course with six other boys, though.”
Ich-Mek looked down in disappointment, and hardly heard Lu-Bod asked him the same question. “Ah, no this is the only one,” Ich-Mek muttered in reply.
When the class was over, the only thing he could think to do was follow Lu-Bod back to his dormitory. If the place was like his, which Tang had told him it would be, he could then scratch it off the list of places he had to visit. The building Lu-B
od entered looked to have the same number and placement of windows as his own, so Ich-Mek issued a sigh of relief before carefully walking away.
There were 4,221 students at Key-Tar-Om, he knew, and this was just the boys. This he had calculated with help from his friends. Sixty-seven boys were brought in from each of nine provinces during the first seven years of the next cycle. This meant the number of dormitories was huge. His only hope was that the third boy’s dormitory would look the same as his and Lu-Bod’s.
All he could do now was wander, which was forbidden, but he felt confident he would get away with it as he wore the silver, and more importantly he was an odd-boy. Such boys were sent up even to the administration buildings, he had heard.
Concentrating hard on looking like he walked with a purpose, rather than someone who was lost, he walked down rows and rows of dormitories until he came to the north gate. This gate, he knew, was thrown open every morning before dawn to let in the massive number of Pus-Don that served the school.
He had not fully appreciated the efforts of the Pus-Don until recently. They did all things for the students, from cooking and cleaning to laundry and any kind of maintenance as required. There were also administrators among them, and guards that maintained order. There must be an army of them, he had decided; all marching in at dawn, and marching out at dusk.
Walking along the high wall he then turned down another alley to investigate the dormitories he assumed would be there. He passed many alleys and countless buildings before finally finding one that looked promising. He had to wait patiently for a while before the alley was sufficiently vacant for him to risk pulling himself up to look through a window. He was disappointed at what he saw.
Dropping back down, he then dared to stop and ponder what he had seen. There were cells within, but not like his. Then it occurred to him that it must be a dormitory for instructors. Carefully walking to the end of the building, he looked to the entrance to confirm this. Immediately he could tell by the shelves of pigeon-holes that it was not home to boys.