The Academy Journals Volume One_A Book of Underrealm

by Garrett Robinson

  “Unless he lied,” said Kalem. “Or unless it was kept from him, as well. The fewer who know the secret, the fewer to let it slip.”

  Ebon turned and leaned his head against the stone wall. The earliest chills of winter had seeped into it, and it calmed him like a piece of ice held to a fevered forehead. He took a deep breath. Still he would not believe it. His father did not—could not hate him this much.

  Ebon would not listen to the voice in the back of his mind, the voice that said Yes, yes, Ebon. He could. Of course he could.

  “I will prove you wrong,” he said. “The map is some smaller mischief, already played out.”

  Kalem looked at Theren uncomfortably and then back to him. “Ebon …”

  “No. No more words. I will show you. We leave, now.”

  Ebon marched off down the hallway. He tried to tell himself that he did not care if they followed, but in truth his heart flooded with relief when he heard their footsteps behind him. Together they stormed down into the entry hall. Mellie sat in a chair by the front door, her head nodded to her chest in sleep. Ebon broke into a run and threw open the door, bursting out into the streets beyond. Kalem and Theren followed just behind him. They heard Mellie’s squawk as the old woman was startled awake. But before she could react, or even call for help, the three of them had vanished into the streets.

  “Well, now we have earned ourselves trouble indeed,” groused Kalem.

  “I do not care,” said Ebon. “This ends now. I am tired of skulking about in search of answers.”

  His bruises were forgotten now, and he found it easier to walk than he had for days. Indeed, Kalem had to scamper along to keep up with him, and even Theren’s long legs swung mightily to match his pace. Ebon eschewed stealth and took the main road east. After a time they were forced to walk around the High King’s palace, and then only a short distance remained to the east gate.

  Ebon had a moment’s trepidation as he approached it. But the gates stood open, and travelers came in and out of it at their will, for it was not heavily guarded during the day. Still he threw up his hood, and Theren and Kalem followed suit as they emerged into the open air beyond. A wave of sea breeze struck them, salty and sweet and carrying the cries of gulls. A morning fog lay upon the Great Bay, a fog thick and tall enough to hide all sight of the horizon, but it ended half a league from the dock’s edge. An itch sprang to life on the back of Ebon’s neck, but he dismissed it as impatience.

  “We will search the southeastern marking on the map first to see if the boat and cave mean anything,” said Ebon. “If I am right, I wager we will find an empty cave, its boat long gone. Just as the ships on the dock were gone.”

  But glancing back over his shoulder, he realized Kalem had stopped short. The boy stood just outside the gate and off to the side, his eyes fixed on the Great Bay. As Ebon looked closer, he noticed Kalem’s hands were shaking. Theren, too, had seen him freeze.

  “Kalem?” she said. “What is it?”

  “The … the fog,” said Kalem. His voice quaked. “Ebon, can you not feel it?”

  Ebon glanced at the fog, confused. “I see nothing.”

  “Do not look,” said Kalem. “Feel.”

  Ebon closed his eyes and focused. Then he felt it—the tingling on the back of his neck. It was no trick of his mind, but the same sensation as when Kalem spun mists close by.

  “Sky above,” he whispered.

  “What?” snapped Theren. “What is it?”

  “That is no morning mist,” said Kalem. “It is the work of alchemists—a host of them.”

  Horns blew on the wall, startling them. And then as they watched, hearts sinking with horror, a host of ships sailed from the mist, drums pounding with war.

  EBON WAS FROZEN. THE SIGHT of the fleet sapped his courage and his will, so that he felt like one of the training dummies in the gardens—mute, lifeless, unable to move. And above them the horns continued to blare, now joined by bells and the shouts of guards as they saw the ships coming at last.

  “What should we do?” said Kalem. “What is this?”

  “An invasion,” said Theren. “And look at the pennants. Those are Dulmun ships.”

  “But what do we do?” said Kalem again.

  “We must go,” said Ebon. “Now!”

  His shout finally put life back in their limbs, and they burst into a run. But Ebon and Theren went in opposite directions and crashed into each other.

  “Where are you going?” said Ebon.

  “Where are you going?” said Theren. “That map showed a boat on the southeastern end of the island. It must be for escape. We can use it.”

  “She is right,” said Kalem. “If it is still there, which it may not be. But what other choice do we have?”

  But Ebon placed a hand on each of their shoulders to still them. His hands shook, but he forced himself to stand as strong as he could. “I cannot come with you.”

  “What?” said Theren. “Why not?”

  Ebon thought of the Academy, of its thick granite walls and the three floors of its library. He saw Jia and even cowardly Credell. And he thought of Astrea’s tiny face, her wild hair that stood out around her head like some hat from one of the outland kingdoms. “The Academy. If indeed my family had some part in this, then I had a hand in it as well. I must go and try to save whoever I can.”

  “But they are on the west end of the island. They will have plenty of time to escape, for they can run to the western …” Kalem’s voice trailed off, and his wide eyes grew even wider. “Oh, no.”

  “Another attack?” said Theren, coming to the same thought. “From the west?”

  “Coming from Selvan,” said Ebon, nodding. Terror made his voice shake, and tears leaked from his eyes. “The attack will come from both east and west. The Academy will try to get the students out, and they will march straight into the enemy’s waiting blades.”

  Theren stamped her foot and looked away. “You are right. Darkness take us.”

  “I … I will come with you,” said Kalem, squaring his shoulders and trying to stand taller.

  “The two of you could make for the boats,” said Ebon. “I only go to deliver a message. One can do that as easily as three, and this attack is my fault, not yours.”

  “I went with you to the Shining Door,” said Theren.

  “And I … well, I would not go off on my own, letting you walk into peril,” said Kalem.

  Ebon swallowed hard against a sudden lump in his throat. “Thank you. But we have tarried too long. Hurry!”

  They ran for the gate. Even as they passed through it, it had begun to lower. Just before it closed, Ebon took one last look behind him. Through the portcullis, he saw that the ships were drawing close. Upon their decks were arranged row after row of warriors, all wearing the green and white of Dulmun. Then the iron gates outside swung shut, blocking the portcullis and the ships both.

  Not everyone outside had made it into the city before the gates shut. Ebon and his friends fled from the wails that came over the wall.

  Ebon ran as fast as he could, and Theren and Kalem lent their hands in support when he needed it. The main road across the island had turned to chaos, with nobles and merchants alike looking about them in terror, unsure of what threat lay beyond the walls. They all seemed half ready to flee, yet they held fast, as though they waited for something to save them.

  “Dulmun attacks!” cried Ebon. “Defend the walls or flee to your homes! The Seat is under attack!”

  The others took up the cry, and it spread through the streets. Almost immediately he regretted opening his mouth, for the already-thick crowd became a congealed mass of bodies, heaving back and forth as everyone tried to go in all directions at once.

  “Come! This way!” Theren led them off the street into the alleys. There they found the way was clearer, and they made good time. Before long they passed the High King’s palace on the right, and before much longer the Academy loomed tall and dark before them.

  They turned tow
ards the main road again, where lay the front door. Just before they reached it, they heard a great THOOM from the west. The sound and force of it stopped them in their tracks. Ebon tried to see the source through the crowd, but the bodies pressed too thick.

  “Up!” said Theren. A wagon full of hay sat nearby, and together they climbed atop it. From on high they saw that the western gate lay in ruins, and the portcullis had been raised. Troops wearing blue and grey poured through the gap, slaughtering all in their path. A chill ran down Ebon’s spine as he recognized their blue-and-grey clothing—the same colors as the man at the Shining Door to whom he had delivered the parcel.

  “Those are no soldiers of Selvan,” said Kalem.

  “Come,” said Ebon. “Into the Academy.”

  They ran across the street and threw open the door.

  The entry hall was full of people, students milling about in confusion while instructors tried to maintain order. More students were filing in from every hallway and down the main stairs. Ebon spied Jia in the press. She stood in the center, directing the other instructors to gather their students and make ready to leave. Ebon ran to her.

  “Instructor,” he said. “You have received word already?”

  “Ebon, rejoin your class,” she said briskly. “Obey your instructor’s orders. No need to worry, we are leaving by the western docks.”

  “The docks are taken,” he said. “An army has just broken the gates. Even now they are on the streets.”

  Jia’s face became grave, and she looked away. “That is ill news. Curse the dean for his cowardice.” Her eyes sharpened as they met Ebon’s. “Forget I said that. Those words were spoken in anger.”

  “What did the dean do?” said Theren.

  Jia gave her a wary look. Ebon spoke up instead, trying to feign concern. “Please, Instructor. He is my cousin.”

  “He is nowhere to be found,” said Jia. “I sent for him as soon as I heard, but he does not appear to be anywhere within the Academy. Mayhap he is at the palace on business. It is no matter. There are other ways off the island. Instructors! We make for the south wall! Now, proceed through the front door, as quickly and orderly as you can!”

  The students pushed past them in a rush, barely restrained by their instructor’s barked commands. Kalem stepped close to Ebon. “Do you think the dean received word of the attack?”

  “I doubt it,” said Ebon. “From what he said when he attacked me, my family has removed him from their counsel. Most likely he heard the same warning as the rest of the Academy and put the pieces together, just as we did. But never mind him. We must help in the escape.”

  In a great mass the Academy students flooded the streets, turning east and then south, making their way to the walls. Ebon looked all around and at last spotted instructor Credell. The man shivered with every step he took, and his wide eyes swept about like a sow being led to slaughter. Yet he kept his students about him and ushered them along with the others. Ebon found himself admiring the man for not having fled already.

  “Ebon!” Astrea’s small, piping voice cut through the din, and she threw herself through the crowd to clutch at Ebon’s legs. “Ebon, what is happening? Why are we leaving?”

  Ebon scooped her up, though the pain of his bruises nearly made him cry out, and held her on his hip as he kept walking with the crowd. “It is nothing to fear, Astrea. Some soldiers have come to attack the island, but our instructors will keep us safe.”

  He only wished he believed that himself.

  “Where do they mean to take us?” said Theren. “There is no gate in the southern wall. There are towers and places to climb down, but I think that would take too long.”

  “Jia must have some plan,” said Ebon. “We have to trust her.”

  By the time they reached the south wall, the sounds of fighting pressed close on all sides. Ebon could hear the clash of steel to both sides and behind them as well. But he had not yet seen any of the combatants. The procession stopped at the wall, all the students clumping together in a mass.

  Jia barked commands. Some instructors separated from the crowd and went to the wall. Ebon saw Credell join them. Then he realized that all the instructors were alchemists, and some of the older alchemy students had joined them.

  “They mean to—” Kalem began.

  “I see it,” said Ebon. “You should help them.”

  Kalem looked uncertain for a moment, but Ebon gave him an encouraging nod. The boy scampered away to join the others at the wall.

  As one, the alchemists stepped forward and placed their hands to the stone. Their eyes glowed, and the light of it joined together until it seemed a hundred torches shone upon the wall. Slowly at first, and then faster and faster, the stone beneath their hands began to shift. It spread out and away, above the alchemists and to either side.

  In a few moments it was done, and a wide door had appeared in the wall, as neat and as smooth as if it had been carved there in the first place. The alchemists stepped back, the glow fading from their eyes.

  “Instructors!” said Jia briskly. “Bring your students through the wall and lead them west. At the docks we will capture ships to bring us across the water.”

  “Instructor,” said Ebon quickly. “What about the rest of the island?”

  He saw her eyes waver for a moment, but the thin line of her lips remained firm. “Our duty is to the students. We must see them to safety or lose the next generation of wizards in one fell swoop.”

  Ebon’s throat went dry, but he nodded.

  Then someone gave a great shout, and they all turned to look. From the streets to the west poured men in grey and blue uniforms, steel swords bared and glinting in the sunlight. With a battle-cry they fell upon the students trying to flee through the wall.

  The instructors leaped forwards to defend their charges. The attackers were driven back in a hail of flame and thunder and invisible blows that sent them crashing to the ground. But they were many, and they pressed forwards with fervor, until soon they had almost reached the mass of black robes.

  Then Ebon saw weremages in battle for the first time. Jia’s skin rippled as muscles formed beneath it, and hair sprouted all over her body. Her grey robes melted into her skin. In a moment a bear stood where Jia had been—but a bear larger and more fierce than Ebon had ever seen, almost twice as tall as he was, and its claws were long and glinted like steel.

  With a heart-stopping roar Jia launched herself into the fray, ripping into the soldiers like an axe through kindling. They cried out in terror as they fell before her. All around, other weremages joined in the attack, until soon blood ran freely on the street.

  But they were still few, and some of the blue-clad soldiers edged around them, seeking the students. One came straight for Ebon, and he backed up quickly.

  Theren stepped forwards, and an invisible blow hammered the woman into the ground. Her sword went skittering across the pavement, and Ebon picked it up with shaking fingers. He had learned some sword fighting at home, but had never used such a heavy blade.

  Another soldier charged, heading straight for Credell’s class. The children recoiled and screamed as Credell tried to place himself in front of them.

  Ebon struck wildly, giving the soldier pause as he avoided the blow. But the man took only a moment to recover. He swung with practiced ease to bat Ebon’s blade out of the way. An overhead strike came quickly, too quickly for Ebon to block it—but then Credell was there, his hand raised to catch the weapon. Ebon cried out a warning—but the moment the blade touched Credell’s fingers, it turned to water, and splashed harmlessly across them both.

  The soldier stood dumbfounded for a moment, until Credell leaped forwards and seized his throat. Iron rippled out around his fingers, transforming both cloth and flesh until the man’s whole neck had been turned to metal. He fell to the ground, unable even to gasp, eyes bulging from their sockets as he fought desperately for life. Credell stepped back, staring at his own hand in horror, shoulders quivering.

&nbs
p; “The children,” said Ebon. Credell did not hear. Ebon shook him. “The children! Get them through the wall!”

  Credell shrank from the words and the sight of Ebon’s face, but at last he nodded. He turned and ushered the children onwards with quiet words. Ebon turned back, seeking Theren and Kalem.

  Before he found them, he saw Nella. The girl stood near the edge of the crowd of students, her eyes flying wildly about in fear. A soldier in blue leaped forwards through a gap in the teachers, trying to attack the students. Nella screamed and tried to reach for her magic. Her eyes glowed, and flames sprang from her fingers. But they guttered out almost at once as she lost her concentration.

  The soldier pressed forwards, sword jabbing for her gut. Nella tried to step back, but tripped upon her own feet and fell.

  Ebon sprang and swung. His sword struck the soldier on his breastplate, and the man stumbled back. Ebon held the sword forwards like a spear, while with his other hand he reached down to drag Nella to her feet. But he had only a moment before the soldier recovered. Ebon barely managed to parry a blow.

  Nella found her strength, and this time lightning arced forth. It seized upon the soldier’s metal armor and set his limbs to spasms. He collapsed in the street, shrieking, while Ebon and Nella backed away and into the crowd.

  Ebon turned to her, and she met his eyes. He saw fear in her gaze—but also confusion, as though she could not understand why he was there.

  “Are you all right?” he said.

  She nodded. “Th-thank you.”

  Ebon dropped his gaze and turned away, seeking Theren and Kalem once more.

  At last he found them at the rear of the procession, helping to guard the other students from attack. At least Theren was fighting—Kalem stood behind her, eyes glowing, but he could not find a place to strike. Ebon knew the boy’s magic was still young, far weaker than Credell’s. He could not use it without placing himself in striking distance.

  Theren suffered no such restrictions. No soldier could come close. She battered them back with unseen force. The glow in her eyes was like an inferno, and her hands were twisted to claws as she lashed out again and again. But then the instructor beside her took an arrow to the throat and fell to the street. Theren’s eyes returned to normal for just a moment as she looked down in horror.