Inkspice (The Mapweaver Chronicles Book 2)

by Kaitlin Bellamy

  Professor Articus clapped his hands to bring the class to attention. “Welcome back, welcome back, I hope today finds you all in the grandest of health and spirits! Yesterday, as most of you know, we started discussing waterfront variables in battle. Now, we’re not quite ready to delve into ocean warfare just yet, but there is great fun to be had discussing rivers! How can they be used to your advantage? How might they be turned against an enemy?”

  A female voice spoke up from behind them, and everyone jumped. None of them, it seemed, had noticed Lady Virrix arrive. “For today’s exercise,” she said, her voice sharp and militant, “everyone will be randomly sorted into groups. Each company will then be assigned a battlefield, a side of the river to occupy, and whether you are attacking or defending.”

  Lady Virrix began stalking through the room, handing scraps of parchment to each student. When she reached Fox, she stopped, scrutinizing him with those large, deep-set, bird-like eyes. “Haven’t I kicked you out of here before?” she asked.

  “Yes ma’am,” said Fox. “But this time I’ve got a note.”

  “He’s allowed to be here, Virrix,” said Articus, rolling his eyes, and causing a few of the students to grin behind Lady Virrix’s back.

  She didn’t argue, but looked disdainfully down at Fox as she handed him his parchment scrap and moved on to the next student. “Look for the markings you were given, and find the other students who share the same ones.” As the assembled youth all scrambled to find each other, Lady Virrix continued, her hands tucked behind her back as she swept through the room. “You’ll notice that some groups are bigger than others. Unfair? Perhaps. But, war isn’t often fair.”

  Fox found himself matched with two others students. Some groups were as large as six or seven students, and one lone girl was left alone with no partners at all. There were eight groups all together, split between four separate maps of varying size and landscape. The only thing each map had in common was a river. The size of the landmass on either side varied from group to group, as well as any other defensible landmarks or buildings. Almost at once, the groups began to put their heads together, sketching out soldier placement and writing notes on potential tactics. They were given one hour to plan before their strategies would be tested.

  Fox’s group was comprised of himself, one small girl in pale blue robes who seemed to be the youngest student there, and a boy sporting grey robes in the same shade Lady Virrix wore. Neither of them had sleeves on their robes, and both were cropped short – the boy’s to his knees, the girl’s all the way up to her waist. But despite their obvious youth, they both quickly proved themselves to be skilled tacticians. Fox listened carefully during the first part of their planning session, amazed at how complex their plans were, and how well-versed they seemed in warfare.

  Their map was rather unbalanced in land space, favoring Fox’s group. The other side seemed to have no place to hide along their shore, while Fox’s team had a small copse of trees to use as potential cover. But something about it didn’t seem quite right ... it was too easy.

  Fox was so busy tracing the map with his eyes that he almost didn’t catch the sudden question thrown his way. “I’m sorry?” he asked.

  The boy who’d spoken rolled his eyes, and repeated himself. “I said, what’s your area? On the battlefield, I mean.” When Fox frowned, the boy gestured to himself. “I’m a war mage, I’m meant to do hurt things with my magic. My specialty is fire.” And then, apparently unable to resist showing off in front of someone new, the boy grinned and held out his hand, a hot ball of flames manifesting in his palm.

  “And what do you do with it?” asked Fox.

  “Summon it, throw it, shape it,” said the boy. He reached out his other hand, cupping the fire globe, and then began to stretch and form it into a small figure. When he’d finished, it looked like a flaming horse. Fox whistled appreciatively, and the boy’s proud smile grew. He waved his hands, and the flames vanished again.

  “I’m training to be a healer!” piped up the girl.

  “So? What do you do?” asked the boy again.

  Fox glanced at the map, his mind racing. He hadn’t planned on this, and he scrambled to think of some profession, something that would have justified his place at University, in these classes. “I’m a traveler!” he said, thinking quickly. “A wayfinder. No magical Blessing to speak of, but I understand places. I’ve traveled with the Shavid and seen every kind of landscape. Thousands of potential battlefields.” Fox leaned over the map, carefully setting his hands on the parchment, careful to keep his magic in check as his fingers brushed the inked lines on the map. “And I can tell you from personal experience, this isn’t accurate. Not for our purposes, anyway.”

  “How’s that, then?” asked the boy with a slight sneer.

  This was it. Fox took a deep, calming breath as he slowly examined the map. He kept a tight leash on his powers, determined not to let a single breeze blow through the room. Careful to look, outwardly, as if he were just reading the markings, rather than feeling them in his heart and seeing them in his mind. He had been practicing for these sorts of moments, and now was his chance to prove himself. Fox needed to look, to the class, as though he belonged here even as he lied about being Unblessed. And, he needed to be sure that he could use his gifts without drawing attention to himself. His entire commission as a spy was to be able to do just that. If he couldn’t survive this first test without detection, the rest of it would all be in vain.

  The air in the room was still. It almost felt as though the wind knew how important this was to Fox, and it waited like an obedient dog, just out of reach.

  “It’s this sort of riverbank,” explained Fox, sensing the truth in the map that was hidden from most of the students’ untrained eyes. He could see, in his own mind, what the area in question looked like. He felt where it was, and knew what it would look like this time of year. “See these markings?” asked Fox, pointing out a series of small dots along his side of the river map. “It’s the flood plains. And it’s only on our battleground. Theirs doesn’t have it. Which means, their bank must have a slight hill to it.” He dragged his finger along the map, showing how far the floods would reach during the summer rainy season. It almost completely drowned out the tactical area his companions had been planning around. “If we were to go to battle now, on this space, the other team would have not only the higher ground, but a distinct advantage in the heartiness of their land. It can obviously withstand the rains far better.” Fox could sense the stone as he spoke, just below the grass on the far side of the river, and knew the heart of the land was strong. He felt the memory of a thousand rainstorms, constantly flooding his side of the river, while the other bank remained clear.

  “We’ll be fighting through mud and water,” he finished, turning back to his group. “This part of the world, it rains every day during the summer. Their side may look smaller, but that’s just the map lying to you.”

  Everyone in earshot was watching him now. Including the teachers. Fox’s partners looked stunned, and even their opponents had stopped planning their defense of the riverbank. They all gathered to look at where Fox was pointing, their eyes following the ink outlines and symbols. Within moments, they were all whispering to each other excitedly, wondering how they could have missed it.

  The boy in Fox’s group now looked rather impressed. He chucked Fox good-naturedly on the shoulder and said, “Bloody brilliant, Traveler! You might not be so useless after all!” He pulled Fox’s attention back to the parchment where they’d been sketching battle plans, and their small group began frantically re-working their entire strategy. Across the table, the opposing team did the same. Now that both groups understood the true battlefield, everything changed.

  By the time Lady Virrix called a halt to the exercise, Fox’s ears were ringing. Working around the maps for so long without letting his magic fully show its colors was proving to be exhausting. But, he did his best to stay focused as the professors swept through the roo
m, showcasing every individual battlefield. Using their Blessings, both Professor Articus and Lady Virrix brought the strategies to life. Small figurines and illusions acted out the scenes on the tabletop, almost like the Shavid might perform with their puppets and music. However, unlike the Shavid, these illusions were bare and simple, and the figurines moved like music box toys instead of living, breathing things. There was no beauty to it, and no evocative emotions. Each Blessing was simply being used as a tool.

  It was, however, incredibly effective at getting across the point. The students could all see quite clearly which group would win, and under what circumstances. It was played out almost like a game, with the students dictating their moves to the professors, who crafted the results out on the map for everyone to observe. When it came time for Fox’s group, they were more than prepared for the simulated flood that swept across their map. Using the list of supplies they’d been given, representing equipment their soldiers might have, as well as a provided list of magical Blessings for their false soldiers, they were able to craft enough of a dam to make part of their riverbank defensible. In the end, the other side was victorious, but only just. The casualties would have been very high for them, and they would have taken a detrimental hit to their supplies.

  When all of the demonstrations were finished, Lady Virrix raised her hands, and silence fell across the room. “It’s good to see that you’ve been paying attention,” she said cooly. “Most of you, anyway,” she added, glancing at a group of four with a disapproving look. They had been put against the solo girl, who had absolutely decimated their imaginary forces. All four looked guilty and uncomfortable, but Lady Virrix spent no more time berating them. “I was impressed by the way many of you utilized your magic lists. The types of mages you have in your company could make or break any battle.”

  “Indeed,” said Articus, jumping in. “Which brings us to the next phase of our lessons: unifying the might with the magic. Classes are about to get a bit more complicated, so don’t neglect your reading, and don’t forget to hunt down myself or Iness,” he gestured to Fox’s new friend, who waved from her group, “if you’ve any questions. Until next time, students!”

  In unison, each one of the assembled youths put their closed fists to their hearts and bowed their heads. Fox scrambled to copy them, feeling foolish, but nobody seemed to mind. They couldn’t blame him for being new, after all. As the students gathered their things and began to leave the map room, Fox slipped through the crowd to find Iness once more. She was helping Professor Articus pack up the maps, and waved him over excitedly.

  “That was excellent!” she said, practically bouncing with excitement. “Oh, you’ll do just fine! Wasn’t he brilliant, Arti – Professor?” She blushed, and a sudden suspicion crossed Fox’s mind. Out of respect, he pretended he hadn’t noticed, and instead turned his attention to Professor Articus, who was beaming at him.

  “Bookmonger spoke very highly of your talent and potential in his letter. He seemed quite eager to get you trained, and I can see why!”

  “It wasn’t that much,” said Fox, trying to sound modest. “Most people just don’t really see things like I do, but it’s nothing special.”

  “But that’s exactly it!” insisted Articus. “Most of these students have never seen the world outside Calibas, and many of the teachers haven’t set foot on a real battlefield in their entire lives. It’s all just practice and theory and pictures on a page,” he said, gesturing around to the maps and books. “But you, young traveler, have seen more in your short lifetime than many of them may ever experience.” Articus placed a hand on Fox’s shoulder, squeezing it excitedly. “There is a profound difference between reading stories and living them.”

  “Bring my stories to the table,” said Fox.

  “They’re the one tool you have that nobody else does,” said Articus with a shrug. “Why cripple yourself? You never would in a real battlefield.”

  Fox remained behind to help Professor Articus and Iness finish cleaning up, thinking about how much he was having to cripple himself here, and how much he longed to show everyone in Calibas what he was capable of. It took him a moment to recognize the feelings of pride and competitiveness rising within him, but then he found he couldn’t shake them. How much easier would it have been to bring the maps in front of him to life, showing them what he could see? Crafting elegant and realistic pictures, instead of the thin illusions the teachers had done. He itched to show it off, and his mind began whispering reckless ideas to him. What if he accidentally showed off to just one of them?

  There was a window stretching along the back wall of the classroom. It was beginning to rattle on its hinges, an insistent wind beating at it as Fox’s imagination began to run away with him. So what if he was found out? So what if he had to showcase his magic in front of Lord Gilvard and the entire Calibas court? What could they do to him? They were all stuck here for Spirit knew how long, and in any case, the amulet protected him.

  What might it be like, to have the entire city adoring him, in awe of his legendary Blessing?

  An enormous gust ripped the window clean open, causing a whirlwind of maps and parchment to fly around the room. Inkwells tipped over, and the living plants that wove in and out of the woodwork began to quake and rustle. In an instant, Fox was snapped out of his daydream, and scrambled to help Iness gather the disturbed pieces as Articus ran to the window.

  “Must be a storm coming!” the professor shouted over the wind, fighting to pull the window shut once more. He struggled against the sudden gale for a few moments, until finally the window shut again with a satisfying thunk, and he latched it quickly into place. “Looks like someone forgot to close it all the way,” he panted, double-checking that the window was secure. Outside, the wind slowly began to die down once more.

  Articus and Iness didn’t seem at all concerned about the unexpected burst, but Fox’s own heart was racing. He could feel the amulet beginning to heat up, and a sharp pain on his chest where the fresh scar was. Biting the inside of his cheek to stop from gasping in pain, Fox picked up his own pace, hurrying to finish with clean up, and eager to get back to Darby or Bartrum. It was only as he excused himself, apologizing for not joining them in the mess hall, that Fox noticed the lamps. The green light that filled the hanging globes had begun to pulse brighter, and flicker rapidly. Not stopping to examine them, Fox hurried down the stairs as quickly as he could, without seeming panicked or raising any eyebrows. All throughout the library, every time he passed a vein of green magic, or a lantern filled with it, the magic began to glow slightly brighter. With every pulse, something within the amulet began to resonate in some sort of magical echo. It pulsed as they did, briefly heating up and cooling down each time.

  Once outside the library, Fox stood for a moment, thinking hard. He forced himself to breathe deep, trying to calm his nerves. This could be fixed. He was being tracked. And he understood what that meant. This magic was just a hunter, stalking its prey. And, until Fox could begin properly hunting in return, he had to be a cleverer quarry than they expected.

  There were birds flying overhead, and several dogs running through the courtyard. A cat lazed nearby on a fence. Taking himself back to his earliest training with Bartrum, home in Thicca Valley, Fox closed his eyes, and reached out with the wind. He found every animal nearby, and began to rustle their feathers and tug at their tails. He whistled in their ears, and brought tantalizing scents to their noses. The animals began to scatter, chasing the wind, or fleeing from it. And Fox, as calmly as he could manage, walked to one of the taverns in the busiest part of town. He took a seat by a slightly-open window and ordered a meal, watching the streets. Listening to the voices as best he could.

  It wasn’t long before the Iron Order began to pass by. It seemed they were not only the resident War Mages, but many of them functioned as the city guard. Fox didn’t allow himself to use his Blessing, but instead simply listened to whatever scraps of conversation could be heard through the small crack
in his window.

  “ ... magical traces everywhere ... ”

  “ ... controlling the animals ... ”

  “ ... Gilvard wants this sorcerer found!”

  For two hours, the Iron Order combed the city streets, seemingly hunting down the animals Fox had sent off, and Fox breathed a sigh of relief. His plan, while reckless, had worked. They hadn’t been able to pinpoint him amidst the multiple outbursts of wind and magic he’d sent out all at once.

  As Fox finally made his way back into the palace, Farran fell into step beside him. “So,” the pirate asked, “how was it?”

  “Could have gone better,” said Fox. “I think maybe your amulet is broken.”

  “Impossible.”

  “It’s not hiding me anymore,” said Fox, and he quickly recounted the strange happenings with the green light.

  To his surprise, Farran looked more excited than upset. “It’s learning,” he said with amazement.

  “I’m sorry, but isn’t this,” said Fox, tapping the hidden amulet, “supposed to stop the Calibas magic from following me? That green light chased me all the way outside, and now the city is crawling with people looking for me.”

  “Looking for your magic,” corrected Farran. “Remember, large outbursts are always going to be more difficult to hide, and the amulet doesn’t mask your Blessing, it masks you. The only reason you were protected when you collapsed in the workshop is, I believe, because your connection to the magic was so entirely severed in that moment.”

  “So I just knock myself out every time I think they’re getting too close?” said Fox sarcastically. “What an elegant solution.”

  “It’s simply a matter of more control,” Farran reassured him. “The fact that this didn’t happen while you were in class is a very good first step. You’ve been doing remarkably well.”

  Somewhat in spite of himself, Fox smiled. “I believe that might be the first compliment you’ve ever paid me.”