by Logan Jacobs
Maruk returned just in time for the meeting with the interior designer that Yvaine had selected. I was invited to attend, since the topic of discussion was the color palette for the nursery, but I begged off when I saw the massive design book the assistant toted into the meeting.
Aerin and Lena hadn’t returned yet, and Maruk said they’d offered to watch for Maderel for a while longer. I must have looked confused at the idea of Aerin and Lena hanging out together because Maruk whispered loudly that he thought they were really waiting on a source from the black market to meet with them. I nodded and wandered back to my room.
I decided to practice some of the exercises that Maderel had given me. After all, if I was going to pose as an air mage, I ought to be able to do some of the basic air mage spells. Or something that was close enough to pass muster.
The afternoon passed quickly as I tried to lift various objects and move them around the room. I had mixed success, but I was starting to appreciate how complicated flight could be. If the object were too light, it simply drifted along, and even the strongest wind did not guarantee that the object would land exactly where you wanted it. If the object were too heavy, it was hard to lift, but once in motion, the air had to be carefully controlled to keep the object from smashing into things.
Merlin watched my practice session from under the bed after Perose’s tome nearly landed on his head. My suggestion that he could offer a few tips was met with a snort. I gave up on the puca and focused on my own craft. I only stopped long enough to grab a bowl of the stew that Maruk had made for dinner, and then it was back to the study of air. I felt like I was back in college, though coding had never been this fun.
The snow that fell that night was wet and heavy and clung to every surface it touched. I hadn’t paid much attention to it while I lost myself in the world of air magic, but when I finally stepped outside the next day, I wished I had a pair of galoshes rather than ordinary boots. Merlin hissed as a small mound of the wet snow slid from the roof and landed on his backside.
“Sorry, buddy,” I soothed as I glanced upwards. I managed to dust most of the snow from his fur, but I still felt a small trickle of cold water down my back when he resettled on my shoulders.
The streets were busy again but not with adults. It was mostly children who trudged happily through this latest layer of snow. I spotted a few snow forts and had to dodge my share of snowballs. There were times when being an air mage had its advantages.
Both Lain and Purple Polly were behind the desk when I arrived. Lain greeted me with his usual smile when I stopped to say hello while Purple Polly blinked owlishly at me for several heartbeats.
“Oh, you’re Emeline’s friend,” Polly said as she finally recognized me.
“I am,” I agreed.
“I guess this means you survived your test,” Lain added happily.
“Well, I didn’t get tossed in the lake,” I laughed. “And I was all prepared for that one.”
“You and that lake,” Polly chided Lain. “You would think no one else ever had to go through something dangerous. And it’s not really dangerous. Professor Fogarty wouldn’t have let you drown.”
Lain didn’t look as certain about Professor Fogarty’s willingness to save his students.
“What was your test?” I asked Polly.
“Oh,” Polly replied as a blush crept up her cheeks. “Well, I, um…”
“She had to kiss a bunch of frogs,” Lain supplied with a wicked grin.
I looked back and forth between the two. Lain’s grin grew even wider while Polly’s eyes found the top of the desk.
“Really?” I finally asked.
“Yup,” Lain replied.
“Why?”
“It’s an assessment of magical skill only,” Polly declared as she finally looked at me. “It’s not a reflection of your personality or such.”
“Right,” I agreed. Polly’s blush was at her hairline now, and I was pretty sure that it covered the top of her head as well.
“So what was your test?” Lain finally asked.
“I had to find a stone that had been hidden inside an old shack,” I replied.
“That’s it?” Lain queried, the disappointment evident in his voice.
“That’s it,” I shrugged.
“Huh,” Lain said with a shake of his head. “Well, the High Mage is in his office. He said you should just go on up.”
I waved goodbye to Lain and Polly and started up the stairs. Maderel was in his office, as promised, this time with another instructor. I waited outside in the hallway again, while students scurried by. I heard the sound of a chair being pushed back, and a moment later, the instructor stepped from the office.
“Come in, Gabriel,” Maderel called, and I stepped inside. Maderel was looking over a chart of some sort, and he made a few notations along the left edge before setting it aside.
“Perhaps we should stay inside today,” Maderel suggested as took in the traces of wet snow that still clung to my cloak and boots.
Merlin chirped happily at the idea before I had a chance to reply.
“That would be great,” I agreed as I pulled the cloak from my shoulders. Merlin hopped down and landed on the chair that had just been vacated by the instructor. He kneaded the cushion a few times, just like a real cat, and then settled down for a nap.
“He’s quite convincing when he tries,” Maderel observed. Merlin opened his eyes just enough to study Maderel, then dropped his head onto his front paws, and promptly fell asleep. I nodded in agreement, and at a motion from Maderel, closed the office door.
“I had a question,” I said as I pulled the only other chair in the room over to the desk and sat down.
“Go ahead,” Maderel replied with a nod of his head.
“Charmain argues that all mages should study at least two elements, that they shouldn’t be locked into just one way of doing things. But is that possible?”
I saw something that could have been a smile quirk at the edge of Maderel’s lips. I was genuinely curious as to his answer. Almost every mage I had met practiced a very specific variety of magic, and the few that had tried to expand their range seemed to run into some serious problems, like insanity. But then, those were also elemental mages that had tried to use the Shodra, so maybe it was possible to use more than one type of elemental magic.
“It can be done,” Maderel replied. “It takes a very disciplined mind, of course. Without discipline, I’m afraid a mage will quickly lose control.”
“You mean, go crazy,” I said as I thought about some of the mages we’d encountered.
“In the long run, that’s a possibility,” Maderel agreed. “Usually they do something stupid before that which results in their death.”
“Like what?”
“Let’s see,” Maderel pondered. “There was a fellow a few decades back. He had attended the Academy for several years, but never graduated. He decided he would have a better chance of exploring his true talents if he went off on his own. So he found some dotty old lord who wanted to say that he had a wizard living on his property, and he moved into a grubby old hovel in the middle of a hedge maze. It became quite the thing, finding your way to the center of the maze to talk to the wizard.”
“It sounds like he was a little crazy already,” I said.
“I suppose he was,” Maderel agreed. “If I had been in charge of the Academy then, he would never have been admitted. But the standards were much less strict back then. If you had any flickering of magic, you could attend.”
“So this wizard didn’t have any discipline,” I guessed.
“None,” Maderel agreed. “And almost no magical skill. You’d think that would be enough to prevent any serious accidents, but people can be inordinately stupid sometimes. This particular idiot tried to create a volcano for one of the lord’s parties using the few earth skills he had picked up at the academy, and fire skills that he’d never used before except to light a fire to cook his dinner.”
“Ouch
,” I commented as I tried to picture what that must have looked like.
“It can be done, of course,” Maderel continued. “In fact, the King of Granula had arranged for just such a volcano at one of his parties, which is no doubt why the lord in question decided he wanted one.”
“I’m guessing there were a lot of mages involved in creating a volcano for the King of Granula,” I replied.
“Nearly twenty, if I remember correctly,” Maderel mused. “But, in theory, a well-disciplined mage could perform the same feat single-handed.”
“Really?” The amazement in my voice as I said this was genuine.
“Certainly,” Maderel replied as the smile finally took shape. “I agree with Charmain, that knowing more than one type of magic is good. I would simply add the caveat that only certain mages should be allowed to do so.”
“So would you have to go through another assessment?” I asked.
“No,” Maderel said simply. “Each test we currently conduct is enough to determine what skills each student is capable of mastering.”
I thought back to my own test, and then to Lain and Purple Polly. I still had no idea what Emeline’s test had been. I’d tried to ask her over dinner the night before, but she’d clammed up and retreated to the library while I was still finishing my stew.
“But the tests are so varied,” I pointed out.
“True,” Maderel agreed. “But they’re quite precise in their own way.”
“So Lain and Purple Polly,” I continued. “What did you learn from their tests?”
“Now, Gabriel,” Maderel chided. “I can’t share test results with other students.”
“I’m just trying to understand how it works,” I sighed.
“The tests allow us to look at not just potential magical skills, but their true persona,” Maderal explained. “Their mana, if you will.”
I froze for a moment and stared into Maderel’s hard eyes. He was the most talkative I’d ever seen him at the Tower, and I’d let myself be drawn in without realizing it. The smile had disappeared, and just the coldness remained.
“You can see that?” I finally asked.
“Well,” Maderel drawled. “Only the manipulators of old could truly see mana. But with enough training, and skills in multiple areas of magic, an elementalist can come close.”
“Which magics do you practice?” I asked.
“I have some skill in all the elements,” Maderel replied as the smile ghosted across his face again.
“And the professors who conduct the assessments, they all practice more than one magic as well,” I guessed.
“Very good, Gabriel,” Maderel replied with what sounded like a hint of pride. “Most never even think to ask the questions, much less put it all together. I knew you were a clever one.”
“Um, thanks,” I said.
“You have the potential, you know,” he observed quietly, more to himself than to me. “I think you would be able to master all the elements if you were willing to devote the time and discipline.”
“Oh,” I said. I shifted in my chair and glanced at Merlin, just to escape the gaze that was locked onto me. I was convinced that he was trying to read me, but I had no idea how much he could really see.
After an awkward silence, I heard Maderel sit back in his chair and clear his throat. I looked up, and Maderel’s icy glare had been muted to something less frosty.
“Have you been practicing the exercises I gave you?” he asked.
“I have,” I replied, grateful that I’d spent yesterday tossing things around my room.
“Let’s get to work, then,” Maderel replied.
Merlin watched us warily the rest of the afternoon as I tried to move various objects around the room. Maderel was encouraging and even provided some useful tips. Merlin only had to dodge one object, a small rubber ball that Maderel kept in his office just for such exercises. I thought weight was the biggest issue, but trying to control something that was bouncing wildly off every surface turned out to be the hardest test.
I was exhausted by the time Maderel called an end to our lesson. He gave me a reassuring pat on the back and sent me on my way. Polly was the only one at the front desk now, and she gave me a timid smile as I stepped back into the main hall. I waved goodnight, and Merlin and I stepped out into a cold and dreary evening.
There were still quite a few people about, which surprised me. Most of the forts had been demolished, and it was the adults that now roamed the area. An impromptu street party had sprung up, and people walked slowly along, carrying pints and singing songs. Laughter spilled from restaurants and pubs, and I spotted more than one employee standing in front of the doors with samples of food.
One large group of Academy students swept around me. I let them flow past and then did a quick two-step to avoid a collision with a young couple walking hand-in-hand along the sidewalk. I was near a pub I liked that served really amazing brisket. My mouth started to water at the idea, and I veered out of the way of a reeling ladona and ducked inside.
The place was crowded, but I found a tiny table tucked against the stairs. The waitress appeared with a wink and a pint of my favorite ale before I had even sat down. I barely finished my first sip when she returned with a heaping platter of brisket and mashed potatoes. I dug in, enjoying the blend of smoky goodness from the meat and creamy smoothness from the potatoes. Merlin waited impatiently under the table for his own serving, and he dug a claw into my thigh to remind me. I slipped him a nice-sized slice of the meat and was given a happy chirp in return.
When the plate was spotless, I finally leaned back in my chair. The waitress reappeared and examined the plate.
“We have bread pudding tonight,” she said. “And Bertha really outdid herself with the rum sauce.”
“That sounds delicious,” I replied.
“Just one cup?” the server asked. “Or will your friend want his own?”
There was a meow from under the table, and I glanced down at Merlin’s two golden eyes.
“I think we can share,” I said. There was a yowl of protest from under the table.
“I’ll bring two,” the waitress replied as she walked away.
While I waited for the pudding to arrive, I pulled the pen and paper from my satchel to check for messages. There was one, in Aerin’s handwriting. She and Lena were making a return trip to the black market, and Emeline was copying some maps for Lavinia. Dehn had dinner plans with his friend in the records department. There was no mention of Yvaine and Maruk, but I remembered some vague reference to a special performance of some opera or other tonight.
I sent a message saying that all had gone well with Maderel today, but he still hadn’t revealed the secret location of the Shodra. Truthfully, I hadn’t yet worked out a way to raise the topic of the Shodra with Maderel. I sighed, then added that Merlin and I had stopped for dinner, and would be back at the guild hall soon.
The pudding arrived at the same time as Aerin’s reply. She and Lena were on the trail of a map to the Tower that had been drawn by a disgruntled student. They figured they would be back within the hour.
I slipped one of the puddings under the table and tucked into the other one. The waitress hadn’t exaggerated about the rum sauce. If I could have had a bowlful of just the sauce, I would have been happy.
Merlin agreed, and he slipped his bowl back onto the table with not a single crumb or drop of sauce still clinging to the cup. My own cup was nearly as pristine, and the waitress actually laughed when she came by again. I left enough money to cover the food and a nice tip on the table, and with Merlin once again wrapped around my neck, I stepped back out into the street.
The party was still on, and I found myself dodging slow-moving people as they swayed precariously along the snowy sidewalks. The feeling that I was being watched was back, but it was hard to tell in the lamplight and reeling crowds if anyone really was following me. I finally reached the street where the guild hall was and sighed in relief.
Half
way down the block, a woman slipped out of a darkened doorway and crashed into me. She yelped in surprise, and I had to grab her shoulders to keep both of us upright on the icy concrete.
“I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed. Her hood had fallen down, and I found myself looking into two dark blue eyes. Tears brimmed at the corners, and she raised a hand to brush them away.
“Are you okay?” I asked as I tried to steady her.
“I’m fine,” she sniffled. “We just had an argument, that’s all.”
“Who’s we?” I asked as I peered into the shadows.
“My boyfriend,” she replied, then hiccuped. “He keeps putting off our wedding date.”
I looked back at the woman. She was staring at me very intently, and the tears appeared to have dried up. I released her shoulders and stepped back.
“I’ll just be going,” I said as I moved to step around her.
“You’re Gabriel Vega,” she announced as she stepped back in front of me. “You’re part of the Shadow Foxes.”
“Nice meeting you,” I added. My hand was inside my coat, and I closed my fist around the hilt of my mana knife.
“Oh, I’m sure you won’t feel that way for long,” she replied with a sunny smile.
Merlin suddenly squawked and tumbled from my shoulders. I pulled my knife from my belt and scanned the road while I whistled to Merlin. The puca didn’t respond, didn’t even move. I looked at the woman again and then started to charge towards her. I felt a prick and then a sting in my neck, and suddenly everything stopped working. I fell to the sidewalk, unable to do much more than suck air into my lungs. The woman approached me, and I could see the hatred that burned in her eyes.
“Let’s go,” she ordered.
I felt hands grab at me, and then there was nothing but blackness.
Chapter 9
My head pounded, and my mouth was dry. I tried to open my eyes, but all I could see was a faint glow. I could hear voices somewhere close by and I tried to call out. All I managed to produce was a dry cough.
“He’s awake,” someone said.
A blurry figure stepped in front of me, and I squinted at it. I recognized mage robes and tried to lift my head to search for a face. Whatever drug I was on made it very difficult for me to use my muscles, and I finally gave up. My chin sank back against my chest as I tried to suck in another lungful of air.