“I’ve heard this story before,” Jez said. “Why only women?”
“What?”
“You said they had children with mortal women. Why only women? Why not men?”
“Ah. No one really knows. Some theorize there are only male pharim, but they’re a minority. I don’t think pharim actually have genders. Even their shape is more a reflection of their will than anything else. Most scholars think that a pharim is a creative being, and as such, it is capable of providing the spark needed to start a new life, but not being alive themselves, they are incapable of nurturing a life within them the way a human woman can.”
Jez’s eyes glazed over for a second. “You study theology, don’t you?”
Osmund grinned. “Is it that obvious?” Jez nodded, and Osmund continued. “Anyway, these children were the limaph. Being closer to pure creation than ordinary humans, many of the limaph were powerful mages, and sometimes, they had insights into the secret knowledge of the pharim.”
“That’s what you think I am?”
“Not a first generation, obviously,” Osmund said. “The afur vanished from history so long ago only the oldest records mention them at all, but some of the most powerful magicians in history have claimed to be descended from them. If you really banished a phobos by instinct...It makes sense.”
“An interesting theory, Osmund,” a voice said from the doorway.
Jez turned to see a woman in an indigo robe. She was carrying a leather satchel with a rolled up paper sticking out of it. She was the same one who’d stopped Lajen’s class, and he searched his mind for the name. Osmund rose and inclined his head.
“Master Rael.”
“I’m surprised to find you here. I would’ve thought you’d go to Jezreel’s room.”
“I didn’t want to just invite myself in there,” Osmund said.
Jez looked at him. “Is that why we came here?”
Rael cleared her throat, and both of the boys looked at her. “I would speak with your young friend, Osmund,” she said. “If you will give us a minute.”
“Of course,” he said, walking toward the door. “I’ll go for a walk.”
“We won’t be long,” she said. “Perhaps a quarter hour.”
Osmund nodded again and left, closing the door behind him. Jez stood up to offer her the chair, but she waved him off and plopped down on the bed. She pursed her lips and pressed down on it.
“You know, these really are dreadful. I understand wanting to offer more to the upper tier, but we should at least give the lower beds without lumps in them, wouldn’t you say?”
Jez nodded. “I guess so.”
“I suppose you’ve experienced both poverty and wealth. That’s not something many can say.”
Jez felt his face heat up. “We weren’t really poor.”
Rael bowed her head. “Forgive me. I meant no offense. You’ve certainly made a splash in our quiet corner of the world.”
“It wasn’t really by choice, Master.”
Jez almost said more but thought better of it. Master Rael, however, sensed the unspoken words and cocked her head.
“What aren’t you saying?”
“It’s just that I doubt this place is ever quiet. I mean that phobos would’ve escaped even if I wasn’t here, and Master Besis would’ve stopped it.”
Giving up any hope of finding a comfortable sitting position, she got up and walked to the window. Osmund’s room overlooked the protection district, so he guessed she was looking at the building the demon had come out of.
“True enough,” she said without turning around, “but an escaped spirit isn’t really a rare thing. As you say, Besis would’ve handled it. Most of his adjutants could take care of a phobos without too much difficulty as well. A boy without any training binding it, however, that is a rare thing. That’s not really why I’m here, though. Tell me, have you ever studied theology?” The question caught Jez off guard, and he hesitated. She turned to him and he shook his head. “Are you sure?”
“Master, I haven’t studied anything.” He turned away from her, but with the small room, there wasn’t really anything else to look at. “I can barely read. I didn’t even know who the limaph were until Osmund told me. Why?”
She took the paper out of her satchel and unrolled it on the table revealing the picture Jez had painted. She placed a finger on the pharim lord dressed in red. Then she tapped on a nearby dot. For the first time, Jez realized all the stars weren’t white. They each had a slight coloring.
“You placed Manakel with his head near a blue star, just below the place where the creative storm changed to the Creator.” She moved her hand to the figure in blue, and Jez was filled with a sense of familiarity. “He was opposite to Sariel who you put between a red star and an indigo one.”
“I did?”
She nodded. “Manakel is the pharim lord over destruction, so his dominion overlaps protection. Sariel rules over protection, which includes an aspect of destruction as well as secrets. There are at least fifty other details in that painting associated with obscure details found only in the most ancient sacred texts. At least half that many other ones deal with areas that have been debated for several centuries.”
“I don’t know what to say, Master,” Jez said. “I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing. It just happened.”
“First a binding, and then this. You are a most interesting person, Jezreel Bartinson. May I have your permission to ask your patron if you can study theology? I have a feeling you would excel in that area. A few nobles take that as an area of study, though it would be for next term, of course.”
Jez muttered a response, but he was so surprise even he didn’t know what he’d said. Jez’s mind was drawn back to the fiery dream he’d had the night before he’d arrived at the Academy. His nostrils flared at the scent of sulfur, but it only lasted a second. Master Rael raised an eyebrow, and Jez shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Master Rael. I need to get to my next class. I don’t want to be late.”
He scurried out the door before she had a chance to call him on the lie. He practically ran down the hall and through the door leading to the stairs. Osmund’s quarters were on the fourth floor, but Jez flew down the steps and burst into the first floor chamber. The painting had been unnerving enough without knowing just how much information had gone into creating it. He wasn’t sure what was going on with him or where all this knowledge was coming from, but it terrified him.
CHAPTER 14
Once again, Jez rushed out the door, and once again, he barreled into Osmund. The two tumbled to the ground. Jez bit his lip and tasted blood. They spent several seconds untangling themselves. For an irrational second, Jez wanted to blame Osmund for everything that had happened. If the other boy hadn’t distracted him with all the talk about the phobos, Jez would’ve been focused on painting the bowl of fruit, and he would’ve never attracted the attention of Master Rael. That was foolish, of course. The incident with the phobos had happened before he’d met Osmund, and Jez knew his hidden knowledge would’ve come out eventually. He mumbled an apology. He caught a few people staring at them, so he motioned to Osmund, and they moved away from the tower entrance and into a side street on the edge of the beast district.
“What happened?” Osmund asked.
“It’s just too much,” Jez cried out. “How do I know the things I know? How can I do the things I can do? Am I some sort of freak?”
Osmund shook his head. “No, not a freak. A limaph.”
“It sounds like the same thing.”
“Jez.” The tone of his voice caught Jez’s attention. He looked up, but Osmund was staring at the ground and wouldn’t lift his gaze. “I am a limaph.”
For a moment, Jez just stared at him. He was the biggest person he’d ever seen, and his face had never looked quite right. Was that because he wasn’t really a person? But no, that was an unworthy thought. Osmund was the only student who hadn’t tried to get on Jez’s good side because of the bar
on. He realized he was staring and turned away, but that was equally conspicuous.
“Sorry,” he said finally. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”
Osmund shrugged, but he still wouldn’t meet Jez’s eyes. He spoke softly almost as if he should be the one apologizing to Jez. “It’s no more than others have called me. Look, I’ll understand if you’d rather not be seen with me. I don’t exactly belong to a powerful family or anything.”
“No, Osmund, I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Forget it,” Osmund said. “How did your meeting with Master Rael go?”
“She wants me to study theology.”
“That makes sense, especially if you really are a limaph. Are you going to do it?”
“It’s not really my choice.”
“Why not? You get to decide what classes you take.”
“No, you get to decide what classes to take,” Jez said. “I have to get approval from Baron Dusan. I already asked him if I could study binding, and I thought he was going to pull me out of the Academy for asking.”
“Really? Why?”
“He says it’s too dangerous.”
“Well, you can’t really argue with him on that point.”
Jez paused as a hawk landed a few feet away. It shimmered and became a green robed adept. The girl looked at them before scurrying away, though she looked over her shoulder at Osmund several times, obviously afraid of him. She turned a corner and Jez raised an eyebrow at Osmund.
“Says the person who studied battle magic.”
Osmund shrugged. “I told you. I have to pay for my tuition. Besides, it’s not as dangerous.”
Jez’s jaw dropped. “What do you mean it’s not as dangerous? It uses the dominion of destruction. The whole point is to be dangerous.”
Osmund shrugged. “When I’m practicing battle magic, I have a human opponent, and they think the way a human does. If something goes wrong, they stop and are declared the winner. If something goes wrong when you’re trying to bind something, you still have a spirit doing its best to kill you. The baron shouldn’t have a problem with theology, though. I’ve gotten a few paper cuts, but that’s as dangerous as it’s ever been.”
“I don’t know. The baron just wants me studying things a noble should learn.”
Osmund rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard some of the upper tier go on for hours about their family and lineage. For you, theology is almost the same thing. Don’t you want to learn about your heritage?”
“I guess.” He sounded as unsure as he felt, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that some secrets were better left unknown. “We should probably go talk to Master Rael. I just sort of ran out on her.”
Osmund nodded, and they headed back for the tower. They were about to open the door when Lina came out of the door leading a group of students. Though they weren’t in their student’s robes, Jez recognized them as first term students in the upper tier. Lina herself wore a violet dress, obviously intended to impersonate the robes of an adept of shadows, though there was no way she’d advanced enough to be allowed to choose an area of focus. She looked at them and turned up her nose.
“Jezreel,” she said.
“Lina,” he said with just as much contempt in his voice. He was speaking before he knew what he was saying. “I was hoping you could help me with something. I was looking at a map of Ashtar, and I couldn’t tell where your father’s lands were. I found Baron Dusan’s easily enough. They’re so big, after all, but I couldn’t find Lord Varin’s.”
She clenched her teeth and her face went scarlet. Some of her friends looked at each other in surprise, though a few tried to hide smile. Behind him, Osmund snickered. Jez was doing his best to keep from smiling, but he wasn’t doing a very good job of it.
It took Lina almost a full minute to regain her composure. “You’re new to this life, so I’m going to explain some things to you. The tiers are separate for a reason. It won’t do you any good to associate with people like that.”
“Thanks,” Jez said flatly. “I’m sure your grandfather would agree.”
Lina went even redder than before. She was about to say something, but Osmund broke in.
“I don’t think he needs advice from someone like you about what kind of people to associate with.”
“What was that, freak?”
A pale skinned blond boy stepped forward with balled fists. His friends cheered him on. Emboldened by their support, he stood right in front of the larger boy. A crowd had started to gather, shouting jeers at them. Osmund stood up straight and towered over the other boy by at least two feet. He tensed his muscles, and the boy took a step back and scowled.
“Someone needs to teach you to respect your betters.”
Osmund smirked. “I’ve met some who I think were better people than me, Regis. You’re not one of them.”
Regis’s sputtered and started to say something, but Osmund grinned. His eyes glowed with orange fire, and a thin wisp of smoke rose from each. A yelp escaped Regis’s throat, and most of the others took a step back, but Lina remained where she was. She closed her eyes and began to whimper, but she didn’t move. Jez was impressed, in spite of himself. A second later, the fire in Osmund’s eyes died, and his shoulders slumped.
“Just leave me alone,” Osmund said and started to walk through them, headed for the entrance to the tower.
They parted for him, but as he stepped onto the stairs leading up, Regis clasped his hands together and reached up to slam them into the back of Osmund’s head. Osmund was so much taller than him, however, that the angle was awkward, so he didn’t get a solid hit. Osmund stumbled and turned to face his attacker. Regis didn’t hesitate. He stepped onto the stairs and slammed his fist into Osmund’s face. Just before it impacted, Jez saw his friend’s eyes glowing, though not with fire they’d had a few moments ago. No, they glowed with pure white light, the light that he’d seen in Osmund’s eyes in the battle at Randak, when Osmund said he’d almost killed his opponent. Osmund’s head jerked in response to the impact, and Regis drew back to strike again.
“Regis, stop!”
Jez reached for him, but one of the other boys tackled him, and held him to the ground. One put a hand on Jez’s sword, though it hadn’t even occurred to him to draw it. Regis glared at him.
“You’re no better than he is.” He delivered a hard punch into Osmund’s stomach, and the larger boy fell over. In spite of their difference in size, Regis showed no fear. He kept his fists raised, and Jez kept worrying he’d draw the sword he wore at his belt, but he just sneered. “Peasants without an ounce of noble blood in your veins.”
“I have noble blood,” Osmund said from the floor. He rolled onto his stomach and stood on hands and knees, though he kept is head down. His voice was deeper, and there was the unmistakable tinge of anger. It seemed to echo forever. “It is a nobility you know nothing about.”
Regis launched a kick, but before it connected, a wing of pure light emerged from Osmund’s back and blocked the blow. It swept the bully’s legs out from under him. Another wing grew from Osmund. Lina screamed and those with her huddled together, shaking with fear. All around them, people cried out in shock, and many in the crowd fled including those who had been holding Jez down.
“Osmund?” Jez asked as he got to his feet.
Light crept out from the wings and crawled along Osmund’s skin until his entire body glowed. His arms thickened, and his student robes melted together and formed a brilliant red robe that seemed to be on fire, yet did not burn. His skin became the sunbaked tan of someone who spent their entire life outside, and his hair elongated and became jet black. He got to his feet, and then kept on rising until he stood a several inches off the ground. Muscles covered every inch of him and he grew a foot taller. He reached for his belt and closed his hand around the hilt of a sword that hadn’t been there a moment before. Thunder crashed as he drew it, and a wind that threatened to lift Jez off his feet blew through the crowd.
; “Osmund is a weak fool.” He glared at Lina and her friends. The pure white of his eyes grew too bright for Jez to look at, and his wings shone with the brightness of the noonday sun, then they grew brighter still. Even the sword seemed more light than metal. “These evil ones will face my sword.”
Regis scrambled to his feet and tried to run, but Osmund’s wings shot out, tripping the student. He tried to draw his weapon, but Osmund kicked it away. Others with him started backing away, but Osmund spread his wings, dispelling every shadow, and they froze in their tracks. Steam rose from their skin as it started to blister. Lina began to weep, and tried to run, but Osmund swung his sword, cutting a shallow gash on her face. The flaming sword cauterized the wound before it had a chance to bleed, and Lina screamed.
“I would have you know my name before I kill you,” the shining being said. “I am Ziary, sword of justice, and destroyer of all that is evil.”
He pointed his sword at Regis, and it rippled as if made of fire. Regis yelped and tried to back up, but Ziary roared out a sound that could never have come from a human throat. Regis froze, his eyes wide in terror.
“Osmund, don’t!” Jez cried out.
“I am not Osmund!” Ziary shouted.
His sword pulsed with every word. Dark clouds swirled above them. Jez tried to get between them, but Ziary flapped his wings once, and the force of the wind sent Jez to his knees. In desperation, he searched inside himself for some hint of how to bind this thing, but there was nothing. Ziary didn’t exude that sense of wrongness that had prompted his previous actions. Jez tried to remember what he had done to the phobos, how he’d created the gossamer web, but he came up empty. Finally, he threw his hands forward and tried to summon power, to do anything, but nothing happened. Ziary, however, seemed to notice his efforts and turned to him.
“You would defend them from me? Why?”
There was genuine confusion in his voice as if this being couldn’t understand why it shouldn’t just kill the students cowering before him. Before Jez could respond, Ziary spoke again.
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