CHAPTER 28
KOL COULDN’T SLEEP.
Arius had led him to a room with its own small washroom. The wizard had told Kol that it was right next to his apartment, as was standard for an apprentice, so Arius would be nearby if Kol needed him. Kol wasn’t sure if Arius told him that because the man thought Kol was a child prone to night terrors or it was some kind of threat if he blasted holes in the ceiling. Arius was a wizard, so probably the latter, but Kol was far more interested in Arius’s trick of flying things across the room without sending wind through everything else.
Kol looked left and right. A bed, bookcase, trunk, and a desk with a dragonet on top. Though in a tower of wizards, he kept expecting The Lord to come by to smack him across the head, like when he was a young child and the wind blew more frequently.
Well, he had learned control then, and he could learn it now. He focused on the stack of books the wizard left in his room. Wind pushed the first one off the top. Not really what he wanted.
The next book flipped over and hit the desk.
The dragonet fluttered its wings. Do you mind? I don’t sleep like most creatures, but there are certain hours of the day that I would prefer not to have books thrown at me.
Kol scowled. Here he was trying to learn magic to get them both out and the dragonet thought it had the right to complain, even as it did nothing to help.
And what exactly would you like me to do? It’s great to play the martyr, but if you want help and refuse to ask for it, you have no one to blame but yourself.
Kol shrugged and retrieved the books. “I’m supposed to be learnin’ magic. I’m tired of readin’ and you’re tired of dodgin’ books so why don’t you tell me about it? You’re magic, right?”
Yes. Very.
“So you must know somethin’.”
I can tell you some more about its nature and its creatures, but if you want to learn spells, you’ll have to ask your new friend, Arius.
Kol grimaced, and the dragonet twittered.
Tell me what you learned, and I can tell you what I know.
Kol hesitated. He wanted to trust the dragonet, but there was still the possibility it had been sent by the wizards to manipulate him. Torture hadn’t worked, so why not send in a mind-reading lizard who claimed to be on his side?
I’m not trying to trick you, but I see no sense in repeating something if you already learned it.
He sighed. There didn’t seem to be a way to guard his thoughts completely. “I didn’t learn much. Just a lot about draining magic and using it.” Kol saw magic, drained it, and threw it into the wind to make it blow. It seemed he had always known that, though he hadn’t had the words to define it.
You have drained and used quite a lot of magic recently.
“Not on purpose. It was just . . .” Kol stopped. It wasn’t his secret to tell and probably the most important one to keep from the wizards, since the elves were never mentioned as a magical creature or source in the book he read. Better for it to stay that way.
The dragonet stretched its wings. You know something about the elves, but you don’t want to tell me because Sorren wanted the information and probably would have used it poorly. And I quite agree. Sorren shouldn’t know about the elves or any other large source of magic, though I’m curious how you came to know of them.
Kol pulled his legs onto the bed, sitting cross-legged. “Yeah, well, I ain’t used to flappin’ my mouth.”
I get it, but in any partnership, there must be some element of trust. I’m more than willing to go first. You know I can read surface thoughts and emotions, and as such, I can only project the same. I cannot lie, and I cannot break an oath. And since I made an oath to you to be your companion, it is in my best interest that you not be ignorant.
What oath? Kol didn’t remember promising anything other than that the dragonet could follow him around until they broke out.
I told you, dragonets always have companions. We like to be where the action is, but it’s hard to create it when you’re the size of a rabbit and can’t even work a doorknob. The dragonet smiled, but Kol refused to laugh.
“And wot do I get out of it?”
Me, of course.
“And wot can you do? Besides readin’ minds?”
Isn’t that enough? Well, if you need a list, I can breathe fire, my tail is venomous, and I can catch a fly in mid-flight. Kol laughed at that one, but the dragonet had not changed position or expression. I’d like to see you do it more than once.
Fine, the dragonet continued when Kol still failed to give the desired reaction to its prowess. There is something else you might not have noticed. I’m a magical creature, so what magic do you see? What do you feel?
Kol’s eyes widened. The elf had a very strong magical presence, but the dragonet had to be at least as powerful, and it slipped by unnoticed. Everything was so new that he hadn’t realized what he wasn’t feeling. Even as he looked and strained there was nothing.
The dragonet grinned, pointed teeth showing. It’s the same for even the most experienced wizard. They’ve yet to figure out a way to sense our power and if they cannot sense it, they cannot use it. We also have ways of protecting other creatures the same way.
“Like the elves? They’re magical, right?”
Of course they are. They probably have the most raw magic out of everything in this world, though it has been over a thousand years since any of them would admit it and few in the current generation even know about it. I don’t personally agree with suppressing that kind of information, though I certainly understand it.
“They don’t want anyone to know ’bout their magic ’cause we can drain it.”
That is certainly part of it. Based on some dark points in your mutual history, the elves believe magic is the thing of nightmares, but it is what they are. Their sight, their hearing, their ability to heal themselves and others, move unseen, live so long; plants flourish in their presence, and animals become tame. But their magic is instinctual, uncontrolled, and easy to access. It’s also connected with their life force.
“And if their magic gets drained by a wizard they go to sleep.” That must have been why the elf had slept so long after Kol used magic on the road.
Yes, at first. Too much and they will die, just like a human that loses their magical spark, though an elf’s spark is significantly larger.
Kol stiffened. The elf seemed fine when it woke, but what if he had caused permanent damage? What had he done?
Are you certain there is nothing you want to tell me?
Holding out seemed pointless now. The dragonet knew more than he did and would probably be a better keeper of the information than anyone else. “I met an elf. A kid. I used magic around ’im and he fell asleep. I didn’t mean to hurt ’im, I just—”
Don’t worry. They sleep because that is how they recover their magic, just as you recover your own strength. And there are few ways to prevent wizards from draining magic we could try, just as I protect my own magic. But I’m curious where you met this elf and where he is now?
“I don’t know where he went or where he came from. When Sorren attacked, I said wotever I could to get ’im to leave, and he must’ve ’cause Sorren never got ’im.”
That’s very fortunate. Though now you have Nalfriz all upset. He lives with an elf in Pelanaytra and the last he heard, nothing was going on except for the sudden death of the queen. But any elf leaving the forest is big news, the kind we don’t like to miss.
“Who are all these people?” This wasn’t the first time the dragonet had dropped an unrelated name or event.
People? The dragonet twittered. They’re my kin—dragonets. We spread out but no matter how far we go we can still share thoughts.
“So this Nalfriz lives with the elves and he didn’t know about Drynn or his brother coming here?”
Drynn? The dragonet paused, eyes far away in another distant conversation. Prince Aldrayndallen-Falberain left the forest and High Prince Tayvinaldrill-Falberain as
well?
“That’s their names? All of it?” Kol had assumed Drynn was short for something, but the dragonet’s version seemed excessive. “And it was their mother who died, right?”
There are actually a few elves who are considered queens, but yes, this one was the High Queen of Elba, which would be these princes’ mother. She died almost eight months ago from an unknown cause. The dragonet’s eyes narrowed. One thing you must understand while you travel with me, you might learn a lot of things, but telling the wrong person could be very dangerous.
Kol smiled. “I might be better at keepin’ secrets than you are.”
I suppose I will let that pass. Just this once though because I’m busy thanking the Stone Shapers that you prevented the elven prince from coming here.
“Wait, I know that.” The dorran in his troop had used similar expressions, mostly as curses. “Those are the dwarf gods, right?” They had temples near the capital that foreigners still came to gawk at.
They used to be everyone’s gods, but now even the dorrans don’t understand their worship. The dragonet turned sharply as if sensing another question before it formed. You could wear a person out.
“You’re not a person.”
Yes, but you are, and humans need to sleep.
Yeah, right. Sleep in the Wizard Tower. They’d torch him the moment he dropped his guard.
You will be perfectly safe. I told you I don’t sleep. I served unpopular kings before, and none of them ever died by an assassin’s hand. And even if you can’t trust my loyalty, perhaps you can believe that I want you to live at least long enough to get past that confounded dome.
The dragonet curled up, staring ahead and only blinking occasionally. Kol stared right back, his arms crossed in front of him. But he must have fallen asleep anyway because the next thing he knew Arius was knocking on the door, and the dragonet was gone.
Arius led Kol out of the council room along with his brother and a young woman in red robes Arius had introduced as Sage Karleana, his prize pupil. The young woman had blushed and said it was because she used to be his only pupil. Now she was a full sage, leaving an opening for Kol to become Arius’s apprentice.
Lucky him.
“Well done, Kol,” Arius said as soon as they were all out.
All Kol had done was stand there, listening to Arius and Xavian talk, and nodding when all the gray-haired robes finally looked at him. He just kept his daggers, and sarcastic commentary to himself, but apparently Arius hadn’t thought he was capable of that.
“Wot do all the colors mean?” Kol fidgeted with the off-white robe Arius had insisted he wear, held by a blue cord the same shade as Sorren’s robes. He had seen several other blue robes in the council room along with more orange-red robes like Arius and Karleana, pale green robes like Xavian, and another muddy earth tone.
Xavian shook his head at Arius. “You haven’t even explained that yet?”
“Never came up,” Arius said. “They represent the different elements—air, water, fire, and earth. All mages work through the elements in that order then pick a specialty as sages.”
Kol nodded. “So you burn people with fire? Nice.” Just like his robed father who killed his mother and burned his house to the ground.
Arius blinked, and Karleana frowned.
Xavian shook his head again. “Have you ever summoned fire, Kol?”
“’Course not.” He wasn’t one of them. He had never burned anyone. He had used the knife on someone once, but he had been too weak to finish the job on his own.
“Then you are very fortunate. It’s a tricky one to control at your age. As I told you on the street, seeing magic all the time—without the ability to block it out—is dangerous. You’re lucky to have someone like Arius to teach you.”
Kol really needed to figure out how to avoid being so lucky. “So wot are we doing now?”
It seemed Arius had forgotten that taking on another apprentice meant he had to come up with a schedule. “Well, most of the apprentices are in class . . . I don’t expect you’re ready for that yet, are you?”
Kol followed his gaze to an open classroom. Little robes—six or seven years old—chased feathers around, blowing them with wind magic. It was similar to what Kol had been trying to do with the book last night, and the children had more control. It wasn’t fair. When he was younger than these robes, he could make more than a book or feather fly. If he hadn’t been hiding from robes for the last decade, he could probably do a whole lot more.
The Lord always said Kol had to hide from robes. Sorren still could be plotting something, but all Arius did was smile, like he expected Kol to jump in with the others and forget everything that happened in the past.
Kol couldn’t. He took a step back from the door.
He would learn magic on his own or not at all.
Xavian let out a long sigh. “Perhaps you should talk to him a bit more before you throw him in with everyone else? You didn’t even tell him about the basic elements.”
“All right. We’ll do that.” Arius smiled his same stupid smile. The wizard gestured for Kol to follow him down the hall, away from his brother and the female wizard. “Xavian. Keeps us all in line. He’s not usually so prickly about it, but after his wife left, well, you’ll just have to forgive him. Why don’t we go upstairs?”
Yay. They climbed the stairs, and Arius pulled open the door to his sitting room—identical to Xavian’s in design, but just as haphazard as its owner. A desert drake, a winged lizard taller than a grown man, crouched in one corner in a fighting pose, stuffed and mounted and covered with Arius’s dirty socks. What would the dragonet think of that?
Kol would probably lose his foot if he even brought it up.
The wizard sat behind his desk, a small fortress of trinkets and papers spread across the top, and gestured to another chair. Kol frowned. A mountain of books loomed over his head, threatening to topple from their perch on the chair and cascade through the rest of the piles throughout the room.
Arius waved his hand over his head, dismissively. “Go ahead and move them. Not with your hands though, with the air. I know you’ve been practicing.”
Kol shrugged, calling for the wind. He blew the books over and sat down.
Arius still grinned. “That works, but if you want to steady them, you’re going to have to balance the air with the magic already in the books.”
Magic in the book? Kol focused and felt a faint pulse. One book hovered a few inches above the rest.
“Excellent. Keep doing that, and you’ll be a water mage in no time.”
The book fell, and Kol turned away. No reason for the robe to know that he had enjoyed it.
Arius leaned back in his chair until it squeaked under him, boots dislodging scrolls on the desk. “So, what else do you want to learn before we ‘throw you in with everyone else’?”
Nothing from Kol. He would rather get the dragonet back, even if he did lose his foot.
Arius sighed. “Kol, I know you weren’t brought here under the best of circumstances, but all I want to do is find the best way to help you.”
“Who asked for your help?” Kol was tired of Arius playing the victim, like Kol was somehow wronging him. “I had a life. Maybe not as glamorous as this one, but it was mine, and I never had to ask anyone for nothin’. Then you lot swoop down and take everythin’ away. Why should I want to ’ave anythin’ to do with you or Sorren or the rest of your friends?”
Arius took his feet off the desk. “Ah yes. Sorren. You must admit that you weren’t entirely in the right in that situation. You used your magic to commit a crime, and while Sorren is a hard man, he does enough favors for the council and the king that he often gets away with . . . losing his temper. For the rest of us there are laws and moral guidelines to follow just like anyone else. One of those being that no child is accountable for the magic they use until they reach a certain level of competency. So even if you have used your powers in an unsavory fashion, the council wants you trained, so t
hey have legal justification to prosecute future actions.”
Seriously? The wizard wanted Kol to believe that being a thief brought him here? He had dodged wizards his whole life, and his mother had paid the ultimate price to protect him.
He saw the crimes they all committed on a daily basis, and there was never any recourse. A commoner’s word meant little in court compared to theirs, and the laws Arius spoke of only existed on paper.
But fine. If the wizard expected him to be stupid enough to buy all this, he would play along. Probably would be in his best interest if they continued to underestimate him. “So if I reach a level of competency and promise not to use my magic in unsavory ways, then I can go?”
“Yes, if you want to. After you fulfill your obligations to your sponsor and the council. Similar to any other apprenticeship you may have gotten outside the Tower.”
“But I’m stuck with you until then?” Masters like Cain and The Lord were harsh to their apprentices, but there was always the option of leaving.
“Is that really so bad? Not all wizards are the same you know.”
“What makes you so different? And why would you want to teach a criminal half-breed like me in the first place?”
Arius let the silence grow thick around them. “Do you want to see some magic?”
Kol jerked back. Was Arius finally going to burn him for his impudence?
“It occurred to me you wouldn’t have seen too much magic on the streets outside of your own attempts. Why should you want something that you’ve never seen before?”
“Fine. Dazzle me.” Kol rolled his eyes, settling back down in his chair.
Arius nodded and rose to his feet, pushing up his sleeves as if he really intended to put on a show. “All right. First off, I’m called a fire sage for a very obvious reason.” He held out his hand and snapped it open, palm up. A small ball of fire hovered above his hand.
Red flames covering everything. Smoke. Someone was screaming . . .
No, no one was screaming. It was all in his head again and vanished the moment Arius put out his small flame with a wave of his hand. “But that’s nothing. Any full sage can do that and most of the apprentices your age too. You see, fire has to do with emotion and passion. Until you learn to block out magic, I would be careful about losing your temper without Xavian or me around.”
The Queen's Opal: A Stone Bearers Novel (Book One) Page 27