Ethan Wright and the Curse of Silence (17 page)

“Ethan, your turn. Since none of you seem to understand the proper etiquette of sparring, you will demonstrate with me.” Heinrich’s voice echoed through the Hall.

Ethan put the chestplate on as Magnus helped him with the straps. Availia intervened and grabbed Ethan’s arm. “No,” she whispered furiously. “Heinrich hates you; he only wants to punish you in there. You can’t — you simply
can’t
!”

“Wait, what are you talking about?” asked Magnus, concerned.

“Well … I sort of pulled his sword from the alchemy vessel, so according to Edison … it now belongs to me,” said Ethan as he pulled the sword slightly out of its sheath and slid it back in.

“Oh … that could be a problem, couldn’t it,” responded Magnus, now with a very concerned look. He turned to the ring where Heinrich was waiting. “Perhaps you would allow me the honor of sparring with you instead?”

“First you interrupt my class and now you want to teach it? Well … no,” replied Heinrich bluntly.

Ethan put his arm on Magnus’ shoulder. “It’s ok … I’ll go,” he said as he unsheathed the sword and stepped to the line.

Heinrich looked down upon Ethan and glanced at the sword the alchemy student was holding. “Going to use my own sword against me for a sparring match, are you?” snarled Heinrich.

Ethan remained silent.

“Well then, let’s begin,” he added.

Heinrich eased forward and flicked his sword-tip toward Ethan’s chestplate. Ethan pushed his sword forward with both hands to block, but hit nothing. Instead Heinrich pulled back his fake strike, side-stepped, and slapped Ethan’s back with the flat of his blade. Although protected with leather, Ethan felt a sting reverberate through his spine and out his chest.

Heinrich stepped back and waited for Ethan to attack. Ethan regrouped and lunged toward Heinrich’s chestplate. Heinrich made no attempt to move and listlessly slapped Ethan’s advance away with his sword. Ethan was left wide open, but Heinrich did not advance. Ethan swung his blade toward Heinrich’s shoulder, just to have his advance easily deflected again by his opponent. And again, Ethan was wide open long enough that Heinrich could have advanced, but did not. Ethan started low and swung upward, only to have the sword knocked completely from his hand.

“So this is the brother of a coward is it? You don’t even know how to hold a sword properly — what, do you just spend your time thieving other peoples’ belongings? Have you not paid attention to anything I have taught in previous classes? Pathetic!” hissed Henrich.

Ethan could hear Marcus snickering as he and Auren jogged past. He was not entirely sure if the sparring match was over, but was so angry he felt the urge to continue.

“My brother is
not
a coward … and
I
am no thief,” said Ethan as anger burned in his eyes.

“I am sorry, I don’t think I heard you properly … what were you saying?” taunted Heinrich.

“I think that’s enough,” yelled Magnus, his voice echoing through the great Hall.

The thin double-edged blade lay at Heinrich’s feet. He kicked it over to Ethan, who reached down and picked it up. Ethan’s anger escalated as he felt blood boiling in his veins. Pulling the dark grey stone from his pocket with his left hand, he held the sword in his right. A blue haze made its way from the tip of the sword down toward the hilt. The blade fogged up, then
clank
! The fog quickly evaporated and the blade started to glow red.

Suddenly, Ethan’s scream echoed through the Hall as he recoiled his hand, dropping the sword. He fell to the floor, in excruciating pain, as the skin on his palm blistered and boiled. Smoke came from the marble floor as a charred discoloration made its way around the sword.

“YOU DARE USE ALCHEMY IN MY CLASS?” roared Heinrich. “You’re finished here!” he spat.

Chapter 18
Lies and Lickable Dragon Eggs

Ethan had been waiting in the infirmary for some time; there were several narrow beds lined up between him and the door. His friends were not allowed inside by order of Heinrich, so he stayed hunkered down in the infirmary bed and waited. The room was quite large and very dark; a small beam of moonlight shone through the window closest to the bed Ethan was lying in. He rolled the cracked stone around in his left hand and tried not to touch anything with his right.

He began to wonder if someone would come in and see him anytime soon, when suddenly he heard voices arguing just outside the door, one of which was Heinrich.

“No! I demand you not only remove him from school, but he be banned from Tirguard altogether!” shrieked Heinrich.

“He is my student, and you can’t simply ban him for heating up a sword! It will take time for him to hone his alchemy skills,” argued Edison. “Besides, he didn’t hurt anyone but himself — and I assure you that was an accident!”

“He was intentionally attempting to cause injury to me in a sparring match!” spat Heinrich. “It’s only a matter of time before he injures another student.”

“I was there the entire time. At no point did Ethan attempt injury to you or anyone in the class,” came a muffled voice that Ethan assumed was Magnus.

“I am not making any decisions now,” said a fourth voice. “And Heinrich, it seems to me that the Captain of the Tirguard armies was in full capacity to defend himself from a twelve-year-old boy, even if he
is
the brother of Isaac Wright. Now then, I will not be bothered with any more of this now. Heinrich, go back to class, and Edison, fetch the nurse. Oh — give the boy back his sword, Heinrich … when it comes to the vessel, you know the rules.”

Ethan heard heavy footsteps echo down the hallway, away from the infirmary. He smiled — Heinrich had not gotten his way yet again. The door swung open and in entered a middle-aged woman in a cloak with three metal fasteners clasped at the front. She was carrying the largest cylindrical container of green goop Ethan had ever seen. She sat down in a chair next to Ethan’s wounded hand.

“My name is Helga, I will be your nurse,” she said as she held out her empty hand. She showed Ethan her palm, and Ethan noticed a strange symbol. “Don’t worry, I’m an alchemist. You’re in safe hands,” she whispered with a smile.

“Is that green stuff from Wegnel … er MacArthur rather?” asked Ethan.

The woman smiled and rolled up Ethan’s sleeve. “No, this is a bit more advanced. I specialize in medical alchemy. Initially we started with MacArthur’s recipe, but in this case, we modified it by heating it up.”

Ethan looked worried. “Wait, why heat it up?”

“Well, the green paste seems to counteract anything it comes in contact with. If I heat it up beforehand, it will counteract heat — or, in your case, a burn. Like I said, you are in good hands. Let’s have you slip your hand in here until it is completely submerged.”

Ethan reluctantly slid his hand into the green goop. It felt warm, but instantly provided relief to his hand. Soon it started to tingle.

“There now, is that better?” asked Helga.

“Yeah, it is. Thanks,” answered Ethan. “Do you know where my friends are?”

“They were by, but no visitors for right now. You need some rest.” Helga slipped a strange lid around Ethan’s arm and slid it to the top of the glass cylinder. She snapped it into place and brought Ethan’s wrist up to ensure it did not leak. “There now,” she added.

“Do you know if my hand will be…?”

“It will be fine, after several days … maybe a week. I will check back on you later and we will take a look. Get some rest now, nurse’s orders.”

Just then Edison poked his nose in.

“No visitors, Edison,” ordered Helga.

“Ok, I just brought Ethan his things so he wouldn’t get bored. I’ll just set them here. Try and feel better, Ethan,” said Edison as he set Ethan’s pack down at the side of the bed.

“Edison, is everything ok, I mean …”

“Everything is fine, Ethan, don’t worry about a thing,” soothed Edison. “Now then, I had better go before the nurse ends up admitting me,” he chuckled.

***

“Do you think Ethan will be alright?” whispered Auren as he unrolled an old scroll. “I mean, did you see the burn marks on the floor?”

“I think he’ll be …” answered Availia, but was interrupted.

“
Zut alors
! I said to put the scrolls
away
, Auren, not to read through them!” yelled Madam Kheller as she pulled the glasses from her nose. “Just do as monsieur Stanley does — he is here often and is most helpful.” The blonde records woman had been keeping a suspicious eye on them since they walked in. She seemed particularly curious as to why they would volunteer for something as boring as records.

“I think we need to be more discreet,” whispered Availia, as she started sorting through the incoming scrolls that were stacked on an inconveniently placed journal desk. She looked down the rows of cubbies that lined the wall all the way up to the ceiling.

“Well, can we hurry up? This place is creepy,” complained Auren as he moved some cobwebs from one of the cubbies to put a scroll away. “I mean, this is a nightmare. How are we supposed to find anything about werewolves in this mess?” he asked as he poked at an old statue that was crumbling to dust. As he poked it, half the statue crumbled to form a new pile of dust on an already dusty shelf.

“Wait, Stanley … did Madam Kheller say you help her here often?” asked Availia.

Stanley nodded.

“Then do you know where we can find information on the Stonewolf?”

“Mmmm nnnuugh … no,” stuttered Stanley. “Depends — drastically desires dramatic distraction.”

“A
distraction
?” asked Availia.

Stanley nodded.

“Auren, go and talk to Madam Kheller for a while — keep her busy!” ordered Availia.

“Why me?” asked Auren. “I don’t have anything to talk about. What should I say?”

“You’ll think of something, hurry and go before we run out of scrolls to put away.”

“Fine then …” grumbled Auren, walking to the wooden desk where the beady-eyed woman continued to glare at Availia and Stanley. “Um … hi there,” spoke Auren.

“Oui, what is it?”

“Do you have any information on weird creatures, lying around somewhere? Like a werewolf … maybe that could have stone skin … or something. Yeah, like a stone-skin werewolf section in here … somewhere,” babbled Auren.

The thin-lipped woman stared at Auren with utter boredom. “That isn’t the most idiotic thing I have ever heard, so I may be able to assume you are not the biggest idiot I have ever talked to … maybe third … fifth perhaps.”

“Are you … being mean?” inquired Auren calmly.

“Oui, I believe I am,” challenged Madam Kheller.

“Now’s our chance, Stanley,” whispered Availia.

Stanley motioned her to the back of the records department. He grabbed Availia’s arm and put her in a small wooden chair that looked like a bad replica of the magic chair at Wegnel’s, except this one was covered in cobwebs and had a thick layer of dust. Availia immediately tried to stand up only to be pushed back into the seat by Stanley. He put his finger over his lips as if to tell her to stay quiet. He then leaned over and stuck his hand inside the face of an old metal helmet. Availia’s chair fell backwards through the wall and dumped her to the other side.

The room was dark; Availia could not see her hand in front of her face. She reached out, felt cobwebs and let out a quick scream. Soon Stanley came through and Availia felt relieved not to be standing alone in the dark.

“Mmmmm, nmmgggu … miracle torch,” stuttered Stanley.

“I didn’t bring it, it’s in my pack,” exclaimed Availia as she held onto Stanley’s arm.

Stanley walked forward several paces and reached to his left. He picked up a large irregular stone and smashed it against the wall. Sparks shot out and gave him a temporary view of the large room. He evidently saw what he needed to see and walked forward, leaving Availia standing by herself.

“Wait a minute, Stanley!” exclaimed Availia as she stood alone, unable to see a thing.

Availia reached out for Stanley, felt more cobwebs and quickly recoiled. But soon enough the room was illuminated by a torch that had been lit midway accross the room. Confusion washed over Availia as she looked around — Stanley continued lighting torches and it was soon bright enough to see the length of the room. The same cubbies lined the wall, with identical crumbling statues on the shelves and another journal desk positioned in the center of the room. This desk, however, had the stub of a candle sitting on it. Availia could tell it had started out much larger, judging by the wax that had dribbled down the side and onto the surface of the desk. On the journal desk lay a book entitled ‘Experimental Alchemy and Derivatives Therein’ that was open to a chapter called ‘Prices Paid for Eternal Life.’ Availia realized that Stanley had spent a significant amount of time here. She paged through the book but was interrupted by Stanley handing her a scroll.

“Is this one of the scrolls that Madam Kheller was having us put away?”

Stanley nodded and then walked over to the cubbies that were labeled with the letter ‘L.’ He pulled out a scroll and handed it to Availia. She studied both scrolls and looked up at Stanley.

“They are the same,” she said, trying to hand them back to Stanley.

“Mmmmm nnnggguuuu … read, nggguuu … again,” he stuttered.

‘“…realizing my mistake, I was able to free myself from the trap and wound the Mitan soldier. I barely escaped the tyranny of such an evil race of people,’” read Availia aloud. She looked at the second scroll and picked up from the same place. “ …realizing my mistake, I was able to free myself from the trap with the aid of a Mitan citizen. This isn’t at all like what I was told in Tirguard. This Mitan was kind and spoke words of kinship, not tyranny, which allowed me to realize my second mistake.”

Availia put both scrolls down on the journal desk and looked up at Stanley. “But, what does this mean? I mean, what is this place, Stanley?”

“Nggguuu, mmmmm … truth telling times to trap troubled … um … mmmm nggguuu … lies …” he stammered.

“I don’t understand. Do you mean that this room reveals the truth of whatever is placed in the records room?” asked Availia.