It wasn’t truly that early, but over the past three moonturns, he’d grown accustomed to lounging about in bed until well after morning meal. I’ve made a horrid habit out of sleeping in past the ninth bell toll every day. Serves me right for staggering around like the walking dead when I’m asked to be up with the sun.
He’d been waiting outside Marc’s office for what felt like the entire morning, but in reality, Joel knew it only seemed that way because his eyelids were still heavy and he’d been in such a rush to leave the estate that he hadn’t the time to scarf down breakfast. I don’t know why I thought that was a good idea. Tabitha all but begged me to sit and eat. Here there are countless waifs starving on the street, and my family servant can’t even force feed me fresh eggs and bacon. On cue, Joel’s stomach gurgled. He groaned. Whatever Marc needed to talk to him about better be important.
He pulled the note from within a hidden pocket inside his robe and turned it over in his hands. Nawaz had delivered the message the previous night, saying Marc wanted to see Joel. Something about discussing his future. Perhaps it was possible Marc was going to offer a job of some sort.
Of course, Joel had a sneaking suspicion this meeting had been conceived not by the dean, but by Joel’s father. Koal had informed Joel on more than one occasion that moping around the house was doing him no favors. If Joel hadn’t been so busy trying to contemplate a way to avoid being put to work, he probably would have agreed. He was moping. He knew he was moping. But he just couldn’t bring himself to look forward to anything of late. Even a prospective job offering from Marc did nothing to inspire joy.
What’s wrong with me? We’ve been back from the Northern Empire for over three moonturns now. Joel sighed and leaned heavily against the doorframe. Everyone else has gotten on with their lives. Maybe Father is right. Maybe I do just need a good kick in the arse. At least if I get a job, it might keep me from thinking about Cenric’s death. Or Gib—
Joel winced. There it was again. The dark storm cloud that followed him everywhere. Daya, he’s moved on! Why can’t I do the same?
The door opened behind him, and Joel was forced to stand straight or topple to the floor. He spun around in time to see Marc poke his head through the gap.
“Oh, good, you’re here,” the dean said, his voice disgustingly chipper for such an early mark.
Joel let out a testy sigh. “I’ve been here.”
Marc waved a hand, beckoning Joel inside. “Sorry. I was catching up on paperwork. I still have three additional piles to sort through, but that’ll have to wait until after I spend my morning treating influenza patients at the Healer’s Pavilion and then drag my arse over to the palace for the council meeting. It’s going to be a long day, especially if Beatrice needs help with the baby when and if I ever manage to escape work.” Marc grinned. “It’s nice to see you dressed proper and out before midday. I’m sure your father must be proud now that you’ve made an attempt to rejoin the civilized world.”
So this meeting was Koal’s idea. Joel crossed his arms over his chest and took a seat. “Father says I need to get out more. He even convinced Hasain and Diddy to invite me to go riding with them this afternoon. I’m going to assume he also played a part in all of this too, right? Why else would you send for me?”
Marc flopped into the chair behind his desk. Pressing his palms onto the desk, he leaned across the table and met Joel’s rebellious stare without hesitation. “Why do you think you’ve been summoned here?”
Joel imagined he must look like a spoiled brat, sitting with his arms crossed and chin raised into the air. He let out a long sigh and hung his head. “You have some kind of job to offer me.”
Marc remained silent for some time, the only sound in the room the rhythmic strumming of the dean’s fingers on the desktop. Finally, he sat back in his chair and mimicked Joel by folding his own arms over his chest. “I know you’ve been grieving and I don’t fault you for it, but Joel, it’s been three moonturns. Life has to go on.”
The air became so thick Joel couldn’t even swallow. “Life doesn’t go on for everyone. It didn’t go on for Cenric.”
“You’re right. It didn’t.” Marc tilted his head, staring out the office window. “It’s tragic, what happened to Ambassador Leal, but that doesn’t mean your own life needs to come to a grinding halt. Is that what Cenric would have wanted? For you to wither away in solitude?” With a sigh, Marc shifted his gaze back to Joel. “Life is precious. If I’ve learned anything after all my years as a Healer, it’s that. Don’t waste this gift, Joel. Don’t waste the opportunity to live.”
Joel swallowed down the lump that had formed at the base of his throat. “The night of our escape—the night Cenric died—I told him I didn’t want to be an ambassador anymore. I had made it into this huge dream. I was going to help change the world and bring peace to Arden—but in the Northern Empire, I realized it wasn’t actually what I wanted. I wasn’t any good at politics and I missed home terribly. My plan fell through, and now I don’t know what I want to do.”
“You have the potential to do anything you put your mind to. Cenric saw that potential in you. Hell, we all see it.”
“Cenric said no matter what I went on to do, I would change the world.” Joel blinked away tears. “But I can’t see it. All I see is a failure. I’ve done nothing but ruin lives. If I’d chosen differently, Cenric might be alive. Gib wouldn’t hate me. Father wouldn’t have been injured—”
Marc raised both hands into the air. “Stop. Just stop. None of that is your fault, and you’re certainly not a failure.” Tense silence enveloped the room. Marc let out a huff and leaned forward in his chair, forcing Joel to meet his stare. “Besides, if you were as incompetent as you seem to think you are, I wouldn’t have summoned you here, asking for your help.”
Joel kept his mouth clamped shut, but his crystal eyes implored the dean for more.
Sighing, Marc pressed on. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard or not, but there’s a real shortage of mage trainers at Academy right now.”
“Father might have said something in passing.”
“Right, so—” Marc twiddled his thumbs. “How would you feel about teaching?”
Joel sat back in the chair. “Me? You can’t be serious. I’ve barely completed my own training.”
“Well, it would only be the first year students for now,” Marc insisted. “And you wouldn’t be teaching alone. Kirk Bhadrayu would be—”
Joel’s head shot up. “Kirk? What about him?”
A smile touched upon Marc’s face. “He’d be teaching with you. The two of you would be leading the first years together.”
“But Kirk’s a trainee.”
Marc issued an incredulous snort. “An Imperial trainee. Might as well be a senior mage by Arden’s standards. I don’t know what they’re teaching their gifted children in the Northern Empire, but Kirk’s knowledge and skill both exceed what we’re capable of here in Arden. With a little more time, I feel he’ll become an exceptionally powerful mage. And in the meantime, he’s agreed to share all he knows with our students and trained mages alike.”
“If he’s so powerful, why are you asking me to teach with him? He might be fully capable, but I’ve only just earned my title.”
“This is true,” Marc replied, nodding in agreement. “But Kirk is young, too. Not to mention, he’s foreign. He hardly knows anything about our culture or laws. He’ll need someone there to assist him. Who better to offer guidance than you?” The twinkle in Marc’s dark eyes couldn’t be ignored. “Besides, he asked for you by name. He wants you to help him teach the students.”
Joel blinked. Kirk asked for me? Why? His eyes wandered around the office as he mulled over all Marc had said. I guess he doesn’t really know anyone else here. We made a connection in the Northern Empire. We’re acquaintances—maybe even friends. Heat rose to bathe Joel’s cheeks, though he wasn’t sure why. Yes, we’re friends.
“What say you?” Marc asked. “You spoke about wanting to m
ake a difference in the world. Well, you can. Right now. By doing this, you’ll help ensure Arden’s young mages are trained to their highest capabilities. We could really use your help, Joel.”
Joel had never really given thought to teaching. The idea of it hadn’t ever crossed his mind. Would he be any good at it? He had no life experience or great wisdom to offer these youngsters, and he surely wasn’t a striking image of success. He had no claim to fame, other than being son of the seneschal, and seemed only to stir up controversy wherever he went. Why would Marc ask this of someone so underqualified?
Cenric believed in me, Joel reminded himself. Maybe I just need to believe in me now, too.
Newfound determination swelled in his chest as he raised his eyes to make contact with the dean. “All right,” Joel said. “I’ll do it.”
Joel had barely made it out the door when Kirk found him.
“Joel!” the young man called. His white mage robe fluttered around his boots as he hurried down the corridor.
Joel’s head was still spinning from the conversation he’d shared with Marc and the task to which he was now assigned, so the sight of the Imperial trainee caught him off guard. “H–hello.” Taking his hand off the door handle of the dean’s office, Joel moved forward, meeting the young trainee halfway down the hall.
As Kirk drew to a stop, he seemed to remember himself. His high cheekbones flushed with color as he gave a swift bow. “I, um, I was hoping to catch you here. Did you—did you speak with Dean Marc?” Kirk stared with hopeful eyes.
Joel inclined his head. “I did.”
“Did he ask you about—about—” Kirk stuttered over the question, and Joel could tell the young man was embarrassed for being so forthcoming a moment before.
“He did,” Joel replied cryptically.
Kirk waited with bated breath. “O–oh?”
A smile crept across Joel’s face as he finally elaborated. “And I decided to accept the teaching position. It looks as though we’re going to be partners.”
Kirk’s mouth jumped into an elated grin. “Oh, I’m so happy you’ve accepted! I have to admit, I was a little worried that you wouldn’t.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Joel grimaced. “I almost didn’t.”
Kirk nodded as though he understood. “How have you been? It feels like it’s been an eternity since we last spoke.”
“That’s my fault. I’ve been—moping.” Joel twisted his hands together as he glanced around the corridor, busying himself so he didn’t have to meet Kirk’s florescent eyes. “I’ve been avoiding everyone in my life. I hope you can forgive me.”
Kirk’s mouth fell open. “There’s nothing to forgive. Joel, you’ve been through a lot. I know that.”
“No,” Joel replied, shaking his head as he spoke. “That doesn’t excuse my behavior. I’ve been acting like a sullen brat for moonturns now. It’s high time I snap out of it.” Wrapping his arms around his shoulders, he pressed onto a lighter topic. “So, you really think we’re cut out for this mage training job?”
Kirk leaned against the corridor wall. “Between the two of us, I believe we can do it. Dean Marc can really use all the help he can get. Academy is very short on available mage trainers right now, and someone has to be here for the young ones just discovering their magical abilities.”
Joel sighed. “There’s a lack of available trainers because so many of Arden’s skilled mages are on active border duty. You can thank the High Council for that.”
“Politicians—they’re the same no matter what country you live in.”
They shared a quiet round of laughter, and Joel found his dark mood lifting for the first time in moonturns. Now that the news has had time to sink in, I’m actually looking forward to working with Kirk. I think there’s a lot I can learn from him.
Kirk’s smile was honest and genuine, much like his soul. “I’ve missed talking with you, Joel.”
“Well, now that we’re to work together, it’s not like I can avoid you anymore.” Joel winked deviously.
The Imperial mage cackled and gave Joel’s arm a light swat.
Gib frowned down at his boots, wishing there was a way to not track mud all through the palace halls. He was grateful for the melting of winter’s snow but less than enthusiastic about the muck left in its wake. His only comfort came with the knowledge that his boots weren’t the only ones to mar the pristine marble tiles.
“The servants will be working overtime to get these floors back in shape,” Koal remarked. Sometimes Gib had to wonder if his mentor could actually hear what he was thinking. “You should have seen what it was like out by the stables. I almost lost my boot.”
Gib nodded. “Yeah. It’s dangerous to wander off the path in this weather. Some of the mud holes are deeper than I am tall. I’d fall in and disappear.” The seneschal and student shared a round of hearty laughter as they tromped down the corridor.
In the distance, the council chamber came into view, and the thin silhouette of King Rishi stood at its door—or rather, leaned against it. As always, Aodan was at his side and a plethora of royal guardsmen stood nearby. It was uncanny how motionless they always remained despite the chaos in the busy hall.
Koal’s brow furrowed as he drew closer. “Have you forgotten how to stand? Or do you need help holding that door shut?”
King Rishi groaned. “I should’ve just rescheduled this damned meeting—or made you take the lead in my stead.”
“And to think, you almost made it through the sick season unscathed. The influenza doesn’t suit you.” Koal smiled wryly.
“Aye,” Aodan snorted. “It doesn’t suit anyone else who has ta put up with him either.”
Influenza? Gib thought it had run its course. There certainly hadn’t been more than a handful of new cases since the last of the snow melted. When he glanced up from the dirty floors and got his first decent look at the King, Gib startled a little and blurted without thinking, “Daya, Highness, you look terrible!”
King Rishi turned a flat, somber gaze onto Gib even as both Koal and Aodan began to chuckle. The ruler’s golden skin had gone pale and lost its luster, and dark rings around his eyes made them look dull. Despite his haggard appearance, the King arched a brow and replied in a testy voice, “Thank you for your honesty, Nemesio. For future reference, flattery is more welcomed.”
Gib squirmed, feeling the heat pool in his cheeks. “Sorry. I just thought the illness had passed already. Don’t you have healers to make sure you don’t get sick?”
“My healer went and fathered a baby in his old age and promptly lost his mind!”
Gib grinned but managed not to laugh at Dean Marc’s expense. Fatherhood surely wasn’t easy for anyone, but Marc seemed extra scattered lately. Gib had noticed his lack of response during recent council meetings and how he was perpetually late for them—later than normal, that was.
“You probably could sit this one out if you need to,” Koal said. “I can bring you the notes later.”
King Rishi smiled, still every bit a devilish wolf whether he was ill or not. “And miss the opportunity to share the influenza with Neetra or the other councilors? That would be bad form.”
Marc’s booming laughter rippled down the corridor as he arrived. “Just stay the hell away from me and all will be well.” He scurried toward them with a sheepish grin. “Bea’s told me in no uncertain terms that if I get the baby sick I’m to be sleeping in my office until she’s grown.”
Aodan snorted again. “By the time she’s grown, you’ll be sleepin’ in yer tomb.”
Gib couldn’t help but laugh along with the King and Koal. Marc rolled his eyes but didn’t seem to take any real offense. He drew to a stop next to King Rishi, but his attention turned elsewhere. Gib only then realized Liro had been trailing the dean the entire time. All traces of laughter ceased as everyone else seemed to notice Liro’s presence as well.
Marc craned his head toward Liro and muttered, “I, uh, hope your headache clears up soon. Sorry I couldn�
��t do more.”
Liro nodded once and thanked him, his voice as curt as ever. The eldest Adelwijn son stiffened to his full height and took a step back but didn’t excuse himself entirely. Gib wondered what Liro could possibly want in order to stay so close, not only to the King, but also to his father. Trying not to openly sneer, Gib turned his back and waited for permission to enter the council room.
King Rishi curled his lip. “I smell shit.”
“What?” Koal grimaced and looked down at his boots. “I was at the stables earlier but—”
“Well there you all are!” Neetra’s shrill voice screeched down the hall.
Gib shuddered. He couldn’t bring himself to glance up but could hear the High Councilor’s footfalls fast approaching.
The King smiled cryptically at Koal. “Oops. My mistake. Just an asshole.”
Koal pursed his lips, refusing to laugh. Marc, on the other hand, burst into a fit of hoarse chortling.
By the time Neetra reached them, his face was red. Stuffing his fists onto his narrow hips, the High Councilor’s voice shook as he lectured them. “What are you all doing out here? Are we going to get this meeting underway today? We can’t very well start without our King and seneschal present.”
“Stop whining.” King Rishi groaned and waved at Neetra like someone might swat at a pesky insect. “I was waiting for Marc. Now that he’s here, we’re ready.”
“Oh, right!” Marc startled as if awoken from a dream and reached into his pocket. When he pulled his hand out, a small vial rested in his palm. With a nod, he handed it to King Rishi. “Best to just down it in one go. It’ll settle your stomach and bring down any fever you may have.”
The King frowned as he pulled the stopper from the bottle. “You didn’t make it, did you?”
“Sure. I took the time to brew it special, just for you. Hurry up and drink the damned thing so we can get in there.”
Nightfall: Book Two of the Chronicles of Arden Page 41