by J. B. Markes
“Not a problem,” Regina said. “He could share my seat anytime.”
“Please.”
“He must be new. I’ve never seen him here before. Believe me, I’d remember.”
“He’s an alchemist,” I said. “I met him yesterday. You’d just as well forget about him. He’s as busy as you are.”
“Not tonight, he’s not.”
“Whatever.” I shook my head. When Regina put her mind to something—or someone—there was no stopping her. I reminded myself it was none of my business.
“Oh, I see what’s going on here,” she said, wide-eyed.
“No, you don’t, because nothing’s going on here.”
“Well good,” she replied, a little too quickly. “In that case, you wouldn’t mind introducing us.” She gave Harper a coy wave, and I turned my head so she couldn’t see me roll my eyes.
The alchemist raised his cup in that age-old greeting that has always baffled me. His expression was mock surprise, as if he had just noticed us for the first time. Never one to let the moment pass, Regina grabbed a loose chair from a nearby table, ignoring the protests of the initiates seated there. At her dogged invitations, Harper relocated to our table, where his seat completely blocked the narrow walkway.
“Good evening, Miss Ives,” he said, placing his cup gingerly in the center of the table.
“Regina Abernathy.” I half-shouted. “Mr. Harper Lazrus.”
“Call me Harper,” he said, accepting Regina’s outstretched hand. She seemed affronted that he didn’t kiss it immediately.
“Isabel tells me you’re quite the alchemist,” she said, eyes wide with interest, ignoring my scowl.
“I'm apprenticing at the tower,” he replied. “Though, recently, I’m more of a custodian in the lab.”
“I hope things aren’t too dull for you,” I said, feeling pangs of guilt welling up. Harper’s sudden grin banished my worries, though Regina seemed oblivious to the exchange.
“Not at all. I have a number of independent projects to fill out my free time. Some of them might be of particular interest to you.”
“I’d love to come see the lab sometime,” Regina said, wresting Harper’s attention away from me. “I’ve always held a special interest in brewing. If I hadn’t joined the manifestation school, I’m certain I would have ended up at the Tower of Creation with you.”
“Regina’s interests are quite varied,” I said. “Her own research in that regard has frequently kept her out nights.”
Regina’s eyes flashed, and I bit my tongue. For his part, Harper was either too good-natured or too smart to follow up on my careless comment. Instead, he paused and brought his cup to his lips, though I had previously noticed it to be empty.
“Perhaps you could visit in the future,” Harper said to Regina. “But at the moment things are hectic, to say the least. I snuck out for an hour this evening to refresh my spirit, and I daresay the chai and the company have done just that.”
“You’re welcome anytime,” Regina said, brushing his hand cordially. “Any friend of Isabel’s is a friend of mine.”
“I feel the same way,” he said, standing quickly and offering a slight bow. “If you’ll excuse me, there’s the matter of that independent research I mentioned. I’m making good progress and should get back to it. It was a pleasure, Miss Abernathy. Miss Ives.”
“Mr. Lazrus.” I nodded resolutely, thankful for his discretion. I wasn’t sure what I looked forward to more, seeing him again or hearing the results of his analysis.
“Don’t be a stranger!” Regina called, watching him all the way to the door, and shaking her head at me only after he had completely disappeared. “Frequently kept her out nights? What the—”
“Sorry,” I said. “I was joking.”
“Yeah, very funny,” she said. “Fine, you can have him. He couldn’t stop staring at you anyway.”
“You’re looking too far into things.”
“I see what I see. And right now you’re blushing.”
“Nonsense. I have no time for such tomfoolery.”
“Tom-what?” She laughed, turning toward the door once more, just in case Harper had reappeared.
One of the men from the neighboring table came to retrieve the chair Regina had stolen. He stared at me all the while as if I had been the offending party. It was understandable, though; Regina had an imposing aura, and there were few who would call her out on her boisterous behavior. It was usual, therefore, that the blame should fall onto the easy target.
“What are your plans?” Regina asked.
“I told you. I’m not interested,” I said, but she shook her head with a playful sigh. “Oh, you mean tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow, next week, whatever.”
“I don’t make plans anymore,” I said. “I told you that already. These days I think more and more about just leaving.”
“And going where?” Regina leaned forward and placed her cup beside Harper’s. She sat rigid, genuinely concerned that I might disappear at any moment.
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t do it. I mean it, Izzy. Promise me.”
“I don’t have time for promises. I don’t have time for anything. Besides, I only said I’ve been thinking about it. That’s all.”
I was thankful for her concern, but she had no idea what I was going through. I looked away and saw the initiates at the next table staring me down. Three of them looked into their cups as soon as I caught them, but the other two kept whispering to each other and grinning. It was like the entire world was in on some common joke. Regina noticed my cooling expression and followed my line of sight, so I choked back my aggravation.
“What is it with you and the guys tonight?” she asked. “Leave some for the rest of us, eh?”
“Dulisul,” I whispered, engaging the minor divination all mages learn in their first year of study. The amplification of ambient noise flooded my senses for a few seconds until I focused on the nearby group of orange-robes. Gradually, the hustle and bustle fell into the background, and I could hear them as clearly as if I were a guest at their table.
I heard the Archseer was using necromancy, too.
I heard you’re an idiot.
Think about it. Why else befriend a necromancer? My guess is he wanted to live forever.
We see what good it did for him. Hell, it was probably the necromancer who killed him. They get power from the souls they damn, you know.
“I mean it, you know,” Regina said. “You can’t just run off. Maybe—maybe I could go with you.”
“With me?” I asked, barely following.
“Not forever, of course. But maybe I could take leave. We could go somewhere together and you could take some time—are you listening to me?”
Could you imagine if they caught one of us dabbling in the dark arts? It would be our last day at the academy, for sure.
You’re just an initiate, though. She’s an apprentice. The rules are different.
Oh please, it’s not what color robes she wears; it’s how willing she is to take them off for the right person.
Laughter, all around.
“Izzy?” Regina asked. “Hello?”
“Master Virgil would never give you the time,” I replied with a bit too much aggravation. “You still have a promising career ahead of you.”
“Come on. Don’t be like that.”
Think about it. Why else would she still be here? People have been put to death for less than consorting with rogue mages.
Maybe they have an arrangement—Pitch and the academy, I mean. He must need fresh subjects for his tests.
She doesn’t look like a test subject.
Waste of a perfectly good body, if you ask me.
Not for him. He’s a necromancer. If he does kill her, he’ll probably have his way after.
More laughter.
“Izzy, what is it?”
My wrist twitched to remind me of the wand Regina had entrusted to me, though I felt the sudden ur
ge to do things the old-fashioned way. It would be far more satisfying to curse them with my own power. They would certainly deserve it.
And they would prove no match for me. I could take them all together before they even realized what was happening. I could imagine the talk around the academy for weeks and months to come. Isabel Ives kills five nobody initiates in a fit of rage. Isabel Ives—for a brief time, nearly as notorious as Gustobald Pitch himself.
“I give up.” Regina was using her serious voice again. “Just tell me what to do for you.”
“Why does it always come down to this lately?” I asked. “What can you possibly do for me?” The young men were laughing again, so I canceled the spell and let them continue their discussion. “Just treat me like you used to, before you knew I was dying. I don’t need your pity and I don’t want our time remaining to be some contrived thing. It’s like—your constant concern for my wellbeing is just a reminder of things I’d rather not think about.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I said, getting up and nearly losing my balance over the small chair. “Look. I’m going back to my room now, but it’s not because I don’t want to spend time with you. I’m just really tired.”
“Get some rest,” she said with a nod. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I’m only trying to help.”
“I know.” I patted her on the shoulder as I passed, turning directly toward my new adversaries. They stopped speaking long before I paused at their table. Four of them avoided looking up from their chai, but the main offender gave me a questioning look. I moved from face to face, satisfied that I had no idea who these people were—and most likely never would.
I adjusted the leather straps on my wrist and the leader shifted in his seat, then I walked out of the chai house and forgot them completely.
Chapter 14
I should have gone back to my room that night after the chai house. Instead, I made my way to the Calling Grounds, as far away from the Tower of Hands as I could possibly get. I often paid visits to the summoning school when I couldn’t sleep. As commonplace as magic had become to me, I was always amazed by the quick progress of even the lowest members of their order.
A conjuror once told me that the creatures summoned were real beings that lived out their lives in the normal fashion until called upon to serve their masters. From that day, I never looked at wild animals the same way again. I wondered if they served of their own free will, or if they were otherwise compelled to obey. Or perhaps they had known no other way and were unaware they had a choice at all. As an apprentice of the manifestation school, I sympathized.
The Calling Grounds were well-lit, drowning out the light of the Archseer’s Tower to the northeast. The initiates took turns calling their chosen animals, bidding them to perform menial tasks, and dismissing them to the ether whence they came. The creatures behaved much the same way one would expect of a common pet, and it always made for an interesting display to see a panther or wolf rubbing up against its caller. The summoners were all too happy to oblige their charges, stroking their fur or scales approvingly. Of all wizards enrolled in the academy, the summoners seemed the happiest in their craft.
A crowd gathered around one of the two apprentices. The yellow-robed man was waving his hands in a full circle in front of him. His overt gestures seemed more for show than for weaving arcane energies, but the result was startling nonetheless. A wisp of incense spiraled outward from his palms, coalescing into the solid form of a small feathered serpent, which twisted and glided just above the pupils’ heads. Its scales glistened white and green as it writhed playfully, let out a high-pitched shriek, and then vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
“I didn’t know such creatures existed.” I recognized the voice, but when I turned to see Inspector Raines standing beside my bench, it took a few seconds to realize exactly who it was, so out of place was the chance encounter. “Can you do it?” he asked.
“I could try,” I said. “But I wouldn’t be as good as they are. It’s far removed from my area of expertise. But I’m inspired by what the practiced wizards can do.”
“I hope you don’t mind the company,” Raines said. “I often take walks in the evenings. My assigned quarters are rather stuffy. I saw you walking and thought you might have the same idea.”
“No,” I said.
“Well, just the same, I thought we might take the opportunity to get better acquainted.” He didn’t wait for an invitation, but fell gently onto the stone bench beside me, a little closer than I would have liked.
“No, you didn’t,” I said. “You’ve been following me.”
“You’re a clever woman.”
“I’m not a fool. I know this academy pretty well. There are few who come all the way out to the Calling Grounds without good reason. Why are you here, Inspector?”
“Why do you think I’m here?” he asked, leaning forward and returning his attention to the summoners.
“I was told you were with Miss Sinclair. If you’ve left her side to watch me, it must mean you have new information.”
“All true,” he said.
“Won’t you share, sir?”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a few questions.” His voice fell flat, but he didn’t turn to face me. I stared straight ahead, as well, but was no longer interested in the activity in the yard.
“Go ahead,” I said, trying to match his even tone.
“How long have you known Gustobald Pitch?”
“I’ve known him by reputation since the day he arrived at the academy.”
“Four months ago?”
“I’m not sure. That sounds right.”
“And personally?”
“Scarcely a week.”
“So you wouldn’t consider yourself a close friend of his?”
“I—I don’t know. I suppose not, though I understand that he has few acquaintances, so it might be so, relatively speaking.”
“As you’ve said, you’re aware of his negative reputation among wizards here. Would you say that it is justified?”
“I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking.”
“Do you think him a dangerous man?”
“I don’t know how to answer that question,” I said, shifting to put some distance between us. The inspector didn’t seem to take offense, still casually following the mages in the yard. “We can all be dangerous at times,” I added.
“Fair enough,” he said, glancing sidelong at me for a quick smile. “Relax. We’re just talking.”
“I think I should be getting back to my room,” I said, leaning forward to press the urgency. “Master Virgil gets angry if I’m out too late after the initiates’ curfew.”
“I’ll vouch for you,” he said in his customarily insisting tone. “How long have you known Deblin Bartleby?”
“I met him the same day I met Mr. Pitch,” I said. “Not five minutes before, actually.”
“Do you know the nature of their relationship?”
“Mr. Bartleby has tasked Mr. Pitch with uncovering the identity of his brother’s killer. It was only happenstance that I was there to witness.”
“In your opinion, what qualifies Mr. Pitch to carry out such an investigation?”
“He seems as capable as the next person,” I said, noting the inspector’s disapproval. “No offense. I’m not really the one to ask. It was my understanding that Gustobald was just a sympathetic ear at a time when no one else cared. There was no investigation at all until Gustobald and I took it upon ourselves.”
“And what was the agreed upon price?”
“Price?”
“What did Bartleby offer Pitch for performing this service?”
“Nothing,” I said. “Gustobald said he was forbidden from offering his services—except that he would look into matters on behalf of the academy itself.”
“Nothing at all?” Inspector Raines asked in a tone that didn’t really sound like a question.
“Do you mind telling
me what this is about?” I asked.
“Right now it’s about trust, Miss Ives. Do you trust me?”
“I don’t know you,” I said, scoffing.
“And I barely know you,” he said, turning toward me in his seat. “But I heard your speech to the council and knew right then and there that you and I were kindred spirits.”
“I’m not so sure,” I said, smiling to lessen the blow. “I thought you hated wizards.”
“Not at all. In fact, I admire the dedication it takes to commit oneself to years of rigorous study. It takes a strong mind. I’ll let you in on a little secret. In another life, I might have been a mage myself.”
“Again, no offense, Inspector, but it takes more than dedication to be selected by the academy.”
“You wound me.” Inspector Raines let escape a chuckle so subtle it might have been my imagination, then he leaned back in his seat. “In fact, I was a prime specimen to be selected for your academy. As it happens, I was overlooked. When they did find me, I was deemed too old to begin the study.”
“The seers came for you?”
“They did. Too late, in their expert opinion. They aren’t so perfect, after all. Even today there are those who fall between the cracks, so I hear. Most are rather bitter about it, as you can imagine. It is almost maddening, at times, knowing what I lost out on. I like to think I would have become one hell of a diviner, given half a chance. The truth wouldn’t hide long from my eyes.”
“I believe that,” I said. “The Tower of the Eye could use a man like you. But now you’re an inspector for the Crown, and it’s their loss.”
“It’s amazing what a rejection from this noble institution will do for you in the outside world.”
I briefly wondered what positions would open up for me upon my rejection from the academy. Inspector Raines had been there when the masters questioned me. Was he trying to console me? His face was solid stone, so I returned my attention to the one thing I understood.
Now that the apprentice summoners had retired for the evening, the initiates’ numbers were thinning, but there were still several mages left in the Calling Grounds. These dedicated few were pushing themselves to their limits. Most of their spells were failing spectacularly, and there were quite a few “words of power” tossed about in the aftermath.