“You’re guilty of practicing the arcane arts with no training, no master, and no authorization.”
Delilah snorted. “Says you. Until last year, your kind didn’t care what we did in Drak-Anor, as long as you didn’t have to deal with us. Now, you decide you want to stick your nose in our business and make us conform to your ways? Rannos craps bigger than you lot.”
Archmage Vilkan rose from his seat. “Rannos is dead. Killed by ‘my lot,’ as you say.” He stared at her for a moment and then laughed. “You have fire. So few draks seek us out, because so many are executed as renegades.”
Delilah clenched her fists. She wondered if she could take all three wizards staring her down before they killed her. Maybe it’s time to try out some of that new magic Gil-Li taught me.
The archmage took his seat. “You’ll pay your dues, and I will teach you wizardry. You’ve learned enough of those hedge-wizard tricks the peasants call magic to fool many, but under my tutelage, you’ll learn true power.” He turned to the Orange Wizard. “Let the record show that I am taking this drak as my apprentice.”
“That is most improper.”
“The drak has not passed the Initiate Trials.”
“Even the Archmage has not the authority to advance prospective students past the ranks of initiate and novice.”
Vilkan held up his hand and scowled. “Fine! I don’t have time for this squabbling right now. Enter her into the rolls as an initiate.”
The Violet Wizard tilted his head toward Delilah. “What is your name, Drak?”
Delilah opened her mouth to reply, but she was interrupted when Archmage Vilkan held up his hand. “She has no name here. She is ‘Drak’ until she passes the Initiate Trials. Arrange for her quarters and her beige robes.”
“It shall be done.” The Violet Wizard bowed his head.
“Be gone, Drak. Your instruction will begin tomorrow.”
Delilah stared at the three wizards, her mouth moving in silent protest. I could do it. I could destroy them all. In the periphery of her vision, she saw the eyes of the lizard skull topping her staff glow blue, and she tensed her legs.
Then, she relaxed. Her shoulders slumped. Delilah released the well of arcane energy she gathered, spun on her heels, and ran out of the Court of Wizardry. She ran past the old seneschal and into the courtyard. Pancras and the Golden Slayer stood beneath the Blood Oak.
“He made me an initiate, Pancras!” Delilah spat the words, as if expelling them from her body would undo the archmage’s decree. “Me? An initiate? It’s an outrage!”
Pancras rubbed his forehead. “She should go with me, you know. She and her brother. We left from Drak-Anor together, and we should stay together.”
The Golden Slayer touched Pancras’s arm and looked up at him. “She can’t. If she leaves now, she’ll be branded a renegade.”
Delilah wanted to blast all of them into oblivion. She refrained from flinging her staff into the grass, but the throbbing in her head made her want to break something, anything. “I didn’t ask for this. I learned my magic on my own. I don’t need you. I don’t need him! I know more than most of the people in this damned school.”
“Delilah—” Pancras reached for her.
The drak sorceress batted his hand away. “I’m talking about her, the golden smoothskin, and that bastard in there. Not you, Pancras.” She dropped her staff and hugged his leg.
Pancras pulled her away, kneeling to return her hug. “We’ll figure something out.”
The human cleared her throat. “There is a solution, if you’re patient.”
Delilah didn’t want to hear from the Golden Slayer.
“I don’t think she’ll want to suffer his instruction long enough to earn autonomy.”
“Not that. You are the defenses master at the Arcane University in Vlorey. You can request her as your apprentice. Or as your assistant. Anything, really. She surely will have passed the Initiate Trials by the time we reach Vlorey, Possibly even the Novice Trials.”
“That’s great.”
Delilah pulled herself away from Pancras and turned her head toward the tall human. “It can’t be that easy.”
The Golden Slayer knelt to bring herself closer to Delilah’s eye level. “As I said, it requires patience. Pancras cannot make such a request until he has taken up his office.”
“Hey do dilly, a minotaur and a drak! Can it be? Might it be the mages are under attack?” A human with skin like a moonless night danced by, untold dangling bells jingling.
Not a human… a fiendling. Delilah glowered at the annoying creature as she danced around the Golden Slayer.
“What say you, Slayer? Doth this pair need slaying?”
“Not now, Qaliah.” Gisella glared at the fiendling.
“Oh, shhh.” The fiendling crouched down. “Serious business. Look, am I getting paid so I can leave this hellhole?”
Gisella swallowed, closed her eyes for a moment, and then smiled. “Yes, Qaliah. Probably tomorrow. You, of all people, should know no one can force the archmage to do anything. Now, please.”
“I know you forced him once.” Qaliah laid her finger alongside her nose and winked. “Or should I say, kept him from forcing you, eh?” The fiendling giggled, leapt up, and danced off to annoy a passing group of older students.
Delilah retrieved her staff. “Can I blast her? I’m pretty sure I can make it look like an accident.”
“We’re staying at the Granite Anvil. Her brother is there, as are a few of our friends. May we go put our affairs in order?” Pancras stood, brushing the dirt off his robes.
“Certainly. Someone will be along with instructions for the drak. Delilah, right?”
Delilah snorted. “Not according to Manless. He’s calling me ‘Drak’ until I pass the Initiate Trials.”
Pancras chuckled. “I remember those. Don’t worry. You can do those in your sleep.”
The Golden Slayer remained at Delilah’s level. “I will give you some advice regarding Archmage Vilkan: don’t be too eager to please him. He will take advantage of it, but neither should you ignore him or argue with his requests. He’s busy and will likely not notice if you take your time to do things properly. Also, do not call him Manless. If he hears you…” Gisella drew her finger across her throat.
Delilah’s lips curled, and she tugged on Pancras’s sleeve. “Let’s go. We need to come up with a plan.” She wasn’t going to stand for this. Between her and Pancras, they would figure out a solution and flee Muncifer—never to return.
* * *
Gisella returned to her quarters after seeing the minotaur and drak to the Arcane University’s gate. She shuffled though the papers on her desk, reports from various messengers. Up north from Maritropa and Celtangate, they submitted similar tales: dread omens, restless dead, and a sense of foreboding. She found it curious the dead didn’t attack anyone in the same cities in which they had been buried, but rather, they arose and left their eternal resting places, as if they decided they no longer wanted to be buried there.
Most narratives did not specify in which direction the dead marched, but those that did all pointed to the same location: Badon Hill, the site of the last and final defeat of the Lich Queen.
Gisella sat back in her chair and sighed. She needed to investigate things in Vlorey for herself. She smiled. Archmage Vilkan had just given her the perfect excuse to leave Muncifer and travel there. The minotaur’s reaction to the archmage’s spell was odd. He seemed injured by it, and that was not normal. You want a slayer to ensure a geas works on this minotaur? I thought you’d never ask.
Archmage Vilkan rarely allowed Gisella to venture far from Muncifer. He strongly believed in keeping those close who, at some point, had opposed him. Gisella’s reasons for wanting to go to Vlorey to investigate these Lich Queen rumors were personal and unrelated to her slayer duties. Although, if the Lich Queen has returned, she will be a renegade by default.
She straightened the stack of reports and grabbed her spear. If
her timing was right, she would catch the Court of Wizardry before it adjourned for the morning. She turned into the courtyard and dashed toward the court building. Spotting Qaliah as she pestered some novices, Gisella tilted her head toward the walkway and hoped the fiendling wouldn’t notice her. She didn’t dislike Qaliah, but it was not her responsibility to solve an indentured servant’s problems for her.
Dolios is with me. The archmage and the two high wizards were still in session. Seneschal Lyov shook his head as she passed. “They’re adjourned. They’re not going to like this.”
Gisella grinned as she threw open the door. “It’s their fault for not leaving immediately.”
She let the door shut before crossing the room to stand before Archmage Vilkan. The drawn lips and steel gaze were enough to make his feelings on last-minute business obvious. “I found a slayer to accompany the minotaur Pancras to Vlorey.”
He lifted his hand, palm up. “So? Assign them.”
Gisella allowed a slight smile to crease her lips. “The Golden Slayer will accompany him.”
Archmage Vilkan’s face fell. “What?”
“I have business in Vlorey. Slayer business. It doesn’t concern the university.”
The Orange and Violet Wizards regarded each other.
“Unusual.”
“All slayer business is university business.”
Gisella held up her stack of reports. “According to the Covenant of the Slain—”
The archmage waved his hand. “Yes, yes. I’m sure you have everything figured out. However, I forbid it. You serve me… us. This branch of the Arcane University.”
“Slayers are not bound to specific branches, only the guild itself.” Gisella cocked her head. “You lack the authority to keep me here if I have legitimate business elsewhere.”
Archmage Vilkan stood, his lip quivering. “I am the archmage. I have the ultimate authority in all guild matters.”
“Archmage authority cannot supersede the Covenant of the Slain.”
“Archmage duties with respect to slayers are clearly defined in the Rose Concordat.”
The two high wizards eyed Archmage Vilkan and spoke as one. “She is correct. You do not have the authority to keep her here.”
“Fine!” The archmage stepped down from the dais and pushed past Gisella. “Be gone then. Leave with the necromancer. I will be glad to finally be rid of you.”
He slammed the door, leaving Gisella alone with the two high wizards. They studied her face.
“He can assign you permanent duties here.” The Orange Wizard cocked her head.
“But we are not obliged to indulge his power plays.” The Violet Wizard bowed to her.
“I’ll keep the council informed of what I find, of course.” Gisella smiled and bowed to the two high wizards. She hadn’t expected them to take her side, but there were many who felt Archmage Vilkan was a powder keg and wanted him gone. Helping her leave was a passive-aggressive show of rebellion she supposed, but she took it. Until his tirade, she considered passing on the messenger’s report regarding the archduke’s emissaries. Now, however, she would just pen a quick note to the Archduke and leave Vilkan out of it.
* * *
“You’re staying?” Kale didn’t believe his ears. He came close to dropping the puzzle box, so he placed it on the table and sat on the bed. Delilah leaned on her staff, her tail thrashing in frustration.
“I don’t have much of a choice, Kale. They’ll hunt me down if I leave, and I’m not going to be able to get much of a head start on them.”
When Kale heard the news that Pancras had to go to Vlorey, he assumed they would all go together. But if Deli’s staying here—
The choice was simple in Kale’s mind. “Then I’m staying too.”
Relief was evident in Delilah’s slumped shoulders. She pulled her brother into a hug. “I knew you would.”
“You’ll have to be okay with Kali staying, too, Deli.” Kale pulled away from his sister’s embrace. He gritted his teeth. Delivering news Delilah didn’t want to hear was always nerve-racking, and what he was about to say next would likely set her off.
“Fine, whatever, as long as…” Delilah narrowed her eyes and sniffed the air. “Something’s… different. What is that?”
Kale swallowed. The butterflies in his stomach threatened to escape and bring his breakfast with them. “Kali is my mate, Deli.”
Delilah clutched for the bedpost as she found the edge of the mattress before crashing to the floor. “What? When did—?” Her eyes blinked several times in succession, and her breathing became fast and ragged.
“Last night… well, this morning?” In Kale’s defense, it was dark and he wasn’t really looking at the stars to determine what the time was.
Delilah pushed him away and stood. She threw up her hands, pacing the room. “I’m standing before the executioner, and meanwhile, my brother’s mounting this—”
“Don’t say anything you’ll regret, Deli.” Kale grabbed his sister. “She’s family now.” Delilah was always jealous when anyone paid the least bit of attention to anyone other than her. He loved his sister, but he wasn’t going to let her bad-mouth his mate.
“Great.” Delilah raised her hand and then let it drop. “So you’ll be brooding a clutch of eggs while I’m scrubbing this human’s floor like a beggar desperate for coin. I should’ve stayed in Drak-Anor.”
Kale wasn’t privy to what transpired at the Arcane University, but he was familiar with his sister’s propensity for exaggeration. “Deli, we’ll be here to help you. So what if we have a clutch of eggs? You know I’ll never abandon you.”
It was true. Kale would give his life for his sister. He just hoped she would not ask him to choose between her and Kali. At that moment, Kali entered the room. Delilah’s eyes narrowed, and Kale detected smoldering she normally reserved for enemies she was about to destroy. It was a fleeting moment, gone as quickly as it appeared.
“Kale and I have something to tell you, Delilah.” Kali opened her arms.
Delilah scoffed and shoved Kali out of the way. “Yeah, congratulations.” She slammed the door behind her.
Kali let her arms drop. Kale wrapped her in a hug from behind. “Don’t worry about her. I told you she wouldn’t be happy, but she’ll get over it. I think she had kind of a bad morning, you know?” He didn’t much blame Delilah for her jealousy. He wasn’t the nicest drak when he thought she gave Zarach Stoneclaw too much attention back home. Maybe he’d be waiting there for her still… if they ever returned to Drak-Anor.
“She hates me, Kale. She always has.”
“No, she doesn’t. She’s just—”
Kali turned to face him and nuzzled his neck. “Shh… it doesn’t matter. I only care what you think about me.”
Kale grinned. “Well, I think we established that earlier, huh?”
“Mm. So, what happened with her at the Arcane University? Did she have a chance to tell you before you blurted out the news? ‘Cause I can imagine her spending that entire time berating you for slumming with someone like me.”
Kale pulled back, holding Kali at arm’s length. “Slumming?”
“You’re a Child of Destiny. Clearly, you’re too good for the likes of me, she thinks.”
Pressing his lips together, Kale narrowed his eyes. “You said you didn’t care what she thinks. Besides, I know for a fact that neither one of us buys into that special destiny stuff.”
“Yeah, why not?”
“A dragon told me it was nonsense.” Kale had a fuzzy memory of Terrakaptis telling him prophecies were just vague stories invented by old sages and had no bearing on the real world. He had been recovering from falling into a chasm and was half-dead at the time, but Kale was fairly certain what he recalled was a real conversation.
“Am I ever going to meet this dragon of yours?” Kali smiled and ran a clawed finger down to the tip of his snout.
“Of course—” He’d been about to tell Kali he would introduce them when they returned
home, but he realized he didn’t know when that would be. “I mean, eventually. We’re going to be here a while now, I think.”
“Why?”
“Delilah has to stay here. The archmage made her an initiate. If she leaves, he’ll make her a renegade, and those slayer people will hunt her down. I’m not leaving her, Kali.”
Kali wrapped her arms around him and nibbled at his ear. “I understand. I wouldn’t ask you to. I wanted to explore this city, anyway. Now we’ll have plenty of time for that.”
* * *
Pancras swirled the mead in his goblet before drinking the last gulp. “So, Edric. Are you coming with me, or staying?”
The dwarf slurped the foam from his mug of ale and then consulted his money pouch. “I don’t fancy staying with the draks, so I reckon I’ll come with you. Ain’t had no luck here anyway.”
“You’re under no obligation.”
Edric shrugged. “One city’s much like the next, but this one”—he glanced at his surroundings—“reminds me too much of home, but without my kinfolk. Maybe I’ll find someplace better along the way. Until then, I’ll tag along, I reckon.”
Pancras traced his finger along a stain on the table. His head was clear now, and he realized the archmage placed a spell of compulsion on him. Waves of nausea assaulted him every time he thought of going anywhere except Vlorey. Even if there was a way to defeat Vilkan’s charm, in his heart, he wasn’t sure he should even try.
He regretted having to abandon Delilah. The draks, Kale and Delilah, at least, were like family. He felt responsible for their well-being, even though they were fully capable of caring for themselves.
“Well, I guess I should figure out the best way to get there.”
“What’s to figure?” Edric took a swig of his ale. “Follow the trade roads north until you run out of road and into the ocean. That’s where Vlorey will be, right?”
“So it seems. Back through Etrunia, past Almeria and Maritropa to Cardoba, then Vlorey.” He blew out a long breath. “It’s a long way.”
“I have a suggestion.” Gisella, the Golden Slayer, pulled up a chair. Edric gave her a sidelong glance and then returned his attention to his ale.
Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2) Page 9