Rebel Elements (Seals of the Duelists) (24 page)

Calder shuddered and licked his lips. “I—I—”

“How about this, then: you teach me how, and we can do it together.”

Calder couldn’t tear his gaze from the bag. The smells reminded him of the smoke in the air after he’d nearly blown off his face, although, back then, there’d also been the stench of burnt flesh. And the sound of his own hoarse screaming.

“Teach me how to be safe with it, Calder, and I’ll show you how to be safe with your magic.”

“Wh—how is that even a comparison?”

Bayan merely grinned. “Trust me. Please.”

“I do trust you, but—”

“But not with your life? Aren’t we hexmates?”

Calder looked at Bayan. He knew his fear showed nakedly across his face, yet Bayan sat calmly and seemed completely confident. What does he know that I don’t? Or is it me who knows something, and he’s ignorant? Nae, the Firedust Guildmaster never exploded anything on accident. These recipes work every time as long as they’re followed exactly. Bayan’s right. Please, sints, let him be right.

“We are hexmates. And I do trust you with my life. I just dinna envision a situation where we might explode together.”

“I am the imaginative one. Where do we start?”

“Well, let me see what you managed to barter from Taban.” Calder sorted with sweaty fingers through the various paper tubes.
If I’m going to blow myself up again, I’d better make sure I have all the right ingredients.

~~~

“What’s this all about?” Kiwani glided out of the chilly autumn evening and into the full hex house as Azhni took up her customary spot on the balcony.

“It’s a surprise,” Bayan replied. “Have a seat.”

Kiwani sat beside Tarin and shed her blue-dyed shearling jacket without acknowledging Bayan’s existence. “Where’s Calder?” she asked the redhead.

“He’s getting the surprise ready.”

She released a tiny sigh. “And are we to wait long before he deigns to—”

A loud bang outside the hex house startled everyone. Odjin reached the outdoor balcony first, and stood gawping at the rail. Kiwani elbowed him out of her way and stood by Azhni, who goggled at what lay before her. The others gathered around them.

Kiwani spotted Calder below in the plaza, as he crouched over a small object and lit a long twist of papery fuse. As soon as it began sparking, he fled to the plaza’s edge where he stepped behind a tree. Another bang followed, accompanied by blue and white sparks that fountained into the air. Bayan whooped, and Tarin and the others cheered. Even Azhni clapped. Other hex members, pointing and clapping, cheered from balconies on all six hex levels.

The first cloud of acrid white brought memories of happy childhood festivities, but Kiwani could only frown. Her hexmates had kept something from her, and this ridiculous show of pedestrian pseudo-talent was nothing more than a waste of time. She crossed her arms, determined to display a proper amount of disdain. Yet, despite the cold, she didn’t want to fetch her shearling jacket from the hex house. Why did firedust have to be so mesmerizing?

More bangs and flashes followed, becoming more complex over time. Multicolored fountains, a chain of bluish splash effects that looked like a stone skipping across a pond, and a wall of smoke lit from within by mysterious floating lights seemed to be all it took to transform sane duelists into squealing children.

Calder’s performance crescendoed with several multicolored pyrotechnics exploding at once. The vibrant light displays, piercing whistles, and deep booms, combined with the pervasive bite of firedust smoke, seemed sufficient to plaster silly grins on everyone’s faces.

When Calder stepped through the last of the smoking paper shell fragments and took a bow, cheers and whistles emitted from up and down the hex levels. Before Kiwani could voice her first complaint, Bayan dashed down the side steps. Her hexmates followed at a trot. To Kiwani’s surprise, Azhni went with them, without so much as a bob of her head to ask permission.

Truly angry now, Kiwani stalked after them. Azhni was her employee, not a giddy child. As Kiwani approached the congratulatory group, she saw Bayan clapping Calder on the back and laughing.

“That was amazing! Like your own brand of magic!” Bayan said.

“That was really pretty, Calder.” Tarin gave him a hug. “Thank you! I’ve never seen firedust before.”

Calder grinned from ear to ear in his dampened clothes. “Thank you, everyone. I’m glad you liked the show.” He turned to Bayan. “But I still don’t see what this has to do with magic.”

“Nothing, really,” Bayan said. “It has to do with you.”

Kiwani’s ears perked up. Here was the secret behind this wasteful effort.

Bayan continued, “You know the ingredients to make and control firedust. You just proved that to everyone.”

“Aye,” Calder agreed. His scar pulled at his thoughtful frown.

“And you spent months working on your arcs, your circles, your wedges, right along with the rest of us.”

“Aye.”

“Those are your ingredients, Calder. You’ve practiced using them for months. All you need to do is mix them the right way. You know exactly what the final result should look like. There aren’t any surprises in the formula. You can trust it.”

Calder stared at Bayan for a long, long moment.

“Is that why Calder canna make Flame?” Tarin whispered. “Because he’s afraid?”

“Of course,” Kiwani replied. “It’s been written all over his face since he got here.”

Calder and Bayan ignored her, eyes locked. Then Calder turned and walked away without a word.

Bayan opened his mouth to call after him, but Eward murmured to just let him go, for now.

“Did I just hand wash silk panties for a dozen days for nothing?” Tarin muttered.

“You what?” Kiwani blurted. “You could have offered to wash mine too!”

Tarin glared at her.

Bayan stared after Calder. “I guess we’ll find out in Flame class.”

“That was a fine stunt, Bayan. I hope it won’t cost us a hex member.” Kiwani felt her nostrils flare with disgust, but with accompanying rage shooting up her spine, she couldn’t smooth away the unappealing expression.

“It wasn’t a stunt. If you lived with him or talked to him at all you’d know how strongly he feels about fire. I just thought letting him use something familiar would help him.”

“If
I
lived with him? Do I look depraved to you?” Kiwani retorted.

Azhni’s jaw twitched. “He doesn’t like being afraid. You didn’t either, when you were little.”

Kiwani stared at the diminutive chanter. “I… I grew up.”

Azhni shook her head.

Kiwani frowned, not comprehending. Azhni never contradicted her—total, unquestioning agreement was practically in her contract.

“Well,” Eward said, “I think it was a great idea. It’s too soon to see whether it works, so let’s all keep hoping for the best and not push him. And we should probably clean up the plaza before morning. Gerrolt won’t be very happy with this mess.”

Kiwani cast one last uncertain look at Azhni. “I’m not helping you all hide the evidence of this foolish plan.” She backed away from her hexmates and crossed her arms.

“Naturally,” Odjin said, “our best Wind maker won’t help her hexmates.”

A pang of guilt—made more uncomfortable for its rarity—stung Kiwani. It wouldn’t be any great difficulty to clear the plaza, after all. She opened her mouth to speak.

“Hold on. Wait,” called a voice.

Aleida, from Taban’s hex, darted over with a big smile. Her brown cap of curls looked nearly black in the starlight.

“I just manifested my first avatar a couple of days ago—a Wind one! Let me Idle it around and clean this up, please? It would be great practice.”

“They let you Idle out of class?” Eward asked.

“When else are we going to Idle?” Aleida grinned. “Now stand back; Zephyr has always shown up with a wind blast so far.”

Everyone left the plaza and lined up on the stairs with Kiwani and Azhni, while Aleida performed the Elemental and Wind Invocations. Moments later, the air before her whirled, thrusting grit-filled gusts at everyone. When Kiwani blinked the dust from her eyes, she saw a man-sized, cloud-like being hovering before Aleida. The figure had no legs, just a head with cloud streamers for hair, and two puffy arms.

Aleida held the pose she’d used to summon the Wind avatar, her arms forming a horizontal circle in front of her. She didn’t move or speak, but Zephyr began to float around the plaza, pulling the discarded firedust shells and other debris into a tiny whirlwind. When it had sucked all the trash from the floor of the plaza, it spun back to Aleida and dissipated its whirlwind, which deposited the pile of debris at her feet.

“Excellent, Zephyr.” Aleida lowered her arms. The avatar vanished, and Aleida performed the Revocation.

Kiwani licked her lips, which were dry from exposure to so much wind. Her gaze clung to the spot where the Wind avatar had appeared.

“I want one.”

~~~

Look Aklaa, he says. Scowl, he says.
Kipri sat on a wall beneath the bare, drooping branches of an ornamental willow outside the gates to the Eshkin estate and thudded his heels against its dark red bricks in irritation.
That’s easy enough when I’m given stupid assignments like this one.

An imperial courier approached from the far side of the gates, bearing the bright green leather bag that signified official Ministry documents. Kipri hopped off the curving wall and strode toward the courier with purposeful steps. In moments they both passed in front of the open gates.

“You there, cricket.”

Kipri glowered at the courier.

The courier eyed Kipri’s bright green sash. “You work for his lordship. Take this in with you.”

Kipri looked at the proffered bag. “You do know I’m a Kheerzaal employee, not a house eunuch.”

The courier shifted his weight, impatient to leave. “Look, I don’t care what your title is, poppet. Just deliver these papers!” He slapped the leather bag against Kipri’s chest and spun around, heading back to the street.

Cricket. Better than plum.
Kipri pushed open the leather flap and examined the bag’s contents as he headed for the main entrance, with its marble pillars and silvered portico chandelier.

An overworked butler gave Kipri hasty directions to Lord Eshkin’s private study, and Kipri dutifully headed down the proper hallway, but as soon as the butler was distracted with several lengths of blue linen curtain carried by a pair of chambermaids, Kipri slipped down a side corridor and began to nose about the manor house. Everywhere he went, holding the bright green Kheerzaal packet as his passport, he saw servants and tradesmen bustling about, cleaning and rearranging in preparation for the evening’s invitation-only party. The smells of silver polish, baked tarts, and room-freshening potpourri sachets wafted past his nose.

What he didn’t find was any form of secret operation or locked suite. Even the cellars, which were being raided by kitchen staff for fine wines and cheeses, were completely accessible. The manor contained no trace of a secret operation of any sort.

Kipri finally reached Lord Eshkin’s private study, with its rich Pallithean rug and potted crane topiaries. He entered, glowering as ordered, and spied Lord Eshkin across a crane’s leafy wing. When the nobleman looked up, however, he didn’t react with the suspicion Kipri had expected. Instead, his eyes widened with—fright? As Kipri passed the shrubbery and strode into full sight, Lord Eshkin’s expression relaxed.

“Kipri, isn’t it? What’s this?”

Kipri handed over the bright green courier bag. “Copies of this morning’s Ways council meeting minutes, my lord. I was ordered to deliver this to your hand.”

Eshkin nodded. “Thank you. I’ll look them over.”

“By your leave, sir.” Once dismissed, Kipri exited, turning his feet toward the Kheerzaal again. He wondered what Philo would make of his report; Kipri hadn’t seen anything he’d been told to seek, and what he had seen might be meaningless.

~~~

Bayan stood opposite Calder while the sky overhead attempted to sleet on the Flame Arena, and tried to work up a nice toasty heat barrier. Purely defensive, the spell was meant to ward off Wood, Water, and Wind attacks. The two friends had not partnered up in five days, since the firedust display. As usual, Bayan felt the darkness thrumming in his bones as he performed the simple thrusting wedge, but the paltry result was sadly familiar: a stuttering blip of glowing air that barely warmed his fingertips before dying out.

Calder made a thoughtful pout and stared at the air where Bayan’s spell had failed. “Let me see if I can show you how this is done.” Jaw clenched, he invoked Flame, building a warm red glow of magic around himself. He thrust his wedged arms toward Bayan.

Bayan didn’t have time to decide whether to cower or not. In retrospect, he decided he should have fled in terror. Calder’s heat barrier danced a mere foot in front of Bayan’s face, searing his nose hairs. As he stumbled back in pain and alarm, he saw just how big the barrier was; it ran all the way from Kiwani and Odjin on his left to Tarin and Eward on his right, all of whom backed away from its radiant heat.