The Mage's Grave: Mages of Martir Book #1 (11 page)

All of this happened in perhaps ten seconds, if even that. In no time at all, everything went quiet again and no more earth went flying through the air, so Durima lowered her massive fists and looked around at her current situation.

The gate she had fallen on was broken. Her weight had somehow crushed it, even though the gate had looked solid before. She supposed that she was much heavier than she had thought, although at the moment that was the least of her problems.

The actual problem—aside from her aching back, which had taken the brunt of the fall—was the egg-shaped metal cage that had popped out of the dirt around her. It was covered in earth, making it looking as old and ancient as the underground ruins on World's End, although despite its appearance, Durima doubted it would be easy to break out of.

On the other side of the cage, Gujak was dancing around anxiously, looking at Durima's predicament with big worried eyes and an even more worried-looking frown.

“Oh no,” said Gujak. “Oh no, oh no, oh no. This is
not
good. This is
not
good at all.”

For once, Durima agreed with Gujak. And for once, she was pretty certain that their mission was going to be a complete and utter failure. And she did not like that at all.

Chapter Seven

“M
agical Superior, this is the last straw,” said Yorak, standing in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest. “I cannot stand by idly while things like this happen to your students, not after you promised me that my students would be safe here.”

The Magical Superior didn't cringe under Yorak's harsh tone. He didn't even really look at her. He was instead watching as some of the teachers moved the frozen chimera away from the courtyard, taking it to the catacombs, where it would be kept until they decided what to do with it. Almost all of the students had gathered by now to see what all of the excitement was about, but it would not be long before they had to return to their classes. The Institute students all stood together nearby, listening to the one named Kuroshio as he explained in Aqua what happened.

“Are you even listening to me?” said Yorak. “One of your students almost got himself killed trying to fight a chimera. Don't you even care?”

He knew all about that, of course. The Magical Superior, Yorak, and Junaz had arrived at the courtyard just as Darek Takren had fallen unconscious. Darek's hands had been colder than a cold winter's night in the Great Berg, which had caused the Superior to order Aorja and Junaz to move him into the medical wing right away. At the moment, Eyurna was likely healing him, although he had not heard from her in a while, so he did not know what Darek's current health was like.

“Yes, Yorak, I am listening to you,” said the Magical Superior, turning to face her. “I was just thinking about Darek, actually.”

Yorak looked skeptical about that claim, but she did not question it, most likely because she knew the Magical Superior well enough to tell when he was lying and when he was telling the truth. “Well, at least that's one thing that's working the way it is supposed to around here. But it doesn't make this school any safer for me or my students.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” said the Magical Superior. “This attack took me by surprise as much as it did you. I suspect that this attack must be connected to the two katabans prisoners we were speaking with earlier.”

“Of course it is,” said Yorak. “And it's clear that their 'Master' will stop at nothing to complete whatever his plan is. You know, I think it would just be better if I took my students, returned to the Institute, and let this 'Master' fellow do what he wants.”

“But you haven't even been here a day,” said the Magical Superior. “Your students and my students have not gotten to know each other very well. Besides, none of your students have been targeted yet, if you haven't noticed.”

“Yes, I have,” said Yorak, her hands balling into fists. “But who is to say that they won't be targeted next? There's no guarantee that they won't. If you can't even protect your own students, how do I know you will be able to protect mine?”

The Magical Superior leaned on his staff. “Because I promise to keep them safe. That's why.”

“Your promises are beginning to mean littler and littler to me every hour,” said Yorak. “You said North Academy was safe. I used to believe that myself for years. But now … now, I am not so sure that my students or I should be involved in this.”

The Magical Superior bit his lower lip, thinking about what to say to that. Her words were far more rational than he liked to admit, but he had been so looking forward to fixing the rift that had grown between him and Yorak over the years. He had hoped that inviting her and her students to his school might be the first step in that direction, but now it looked like it would only deepen the divide that existed between the two schools.

Maybe Nijok was right,
the Magical Superior thought, thinking of something that his deceased younger brother had said to him years ago, well before he became the Magical Superior of North Academy.
Maybe my actions will never match my intentions.

But he rejected that thought outright. He was not going to let Nijok's words burrow into his brain and control him. Nijok was long dead. The Superior had other things to worry about, things far more important than what his former brother had once said to him offhandedly so many years ago.

Returning to the present, the Magical Superior said to Yorak, “If you want to leave, you can. But I think you may be making a mistake. I am going to find out what is going on here and I will fix the problem and make the school safe once again.”

“Another one of your promises,” said Yorak with a bitter chuckle. “How many more are you going to make before one of my students—or one of your students—actually dies?”

The Magical Superior had no answer to that. He just said, “I will do my best, as I always have, and that will have to suffice.”

“Your best has so far resulted in the destruction of one of your dorms and the near-fatal injuries of two of your students,” said Yorak. “But what am I doing here, berating you for problems you've always had? I'm going to gather up all of my students and take them home. This chimera attack was the last straw.”

Yorak looked at Auratus. Her pupil, as always, had been completely silent during the entire discussion, but as soon as Yorak looked at her, Auratus stood ramrod straight. She looked more like a soldier than a mage, which was appropriate, the Magical Superior thought, because Yorak had been a commander in the East Yudran army prior to becoming the head of the Undersea Institute.

“Auratus, get the other students and tell them that we will be leaving within the hour,” said Yorak. “Tell them to gather at the
Soaring Sea
and that we'll leave as soon as everyone is on board. Do you understand?”

Auratus nodded.

“Then go,” said Yorak, gesturing in the direction of the Institute students who were still listening to Kuroshio's story. “And make sure that
everyone
is ready to go. I want no dilly-dallying, no unnecessary delays. Understood?”

Once again, Auratus nodded. Then she left, running toward the group of Institute students with more grace than the average aquarian showed on land. The Magical Superior almost called her back, but he restrained himself. Even if he did call her, she would not have listened. Auratus listened only to Yorak, her master and teacher.

“I need to tell the pilot to get the engine running,” said Yorak, turning in the direction of the sports field, where their airship was still landed. “He's still on the ship, if I'm not mistaken, and no doubt wondering what is going on here and what we are going to do next.”

The Magical Superior held out a hand. “But Yorak, could you please reconsider? I want both of our schools to get to know each other better. Isn't that better than remaining separate, as we have for so many years?”

He did not expect her to listen to that, but much to his surprise, Yorak did look a little hesitant, as if she was second-guessing herself. Of course, the Magical Superior was one of the few mortals who could ever pierce her confidence like that, although he did not push the point, knowing as he did that Yorak did not appreciate that kind of pushing.

Yorak's small whale eyes closed for a moment before she opened them again. This time, she looked as firm as she always did, the way she did the first day the Magical Superior had met her so many decades ago.

“I, too, would like for our schools to get closer,” Yorak admitted. “But I am not willing to risk the wrath of the gods—and the lives of my students—by getting in the way of some god's strange plan. I have a feeling that, whoever this god is, he will not hesitate to snuff us out if we prove a threat to him.”

“Not unless I can find out who he is and what he is up to before he succeeds in it,” said the Magical Superior. “I know how you feel about getting in the way of the gods, but I believe it is of utmost importance that you stay. We might need your help.”

“Help with what?” said Yorak. She gestured at the Arcanium. “Help with getting your students in the medical wing? Help with angering the gods? I suppose you must be getting senile, Chen, because you don't seem to remember Auratus.”

The Magical Superior had not heard his full name uttered by anyone in years. Even his deceased younger brother, Nijok, had not called him Chen Wirm when they had met for the very last time thirty years ago. He blinked once or twice, wondering if he had misheard, but when Yorak did not correct herself, his shoulders slumped.

“Yorak, you know I don't go by that name anymore,” said the Magical Superior. “I am the Magical Superior of North Academy. I abandoned that name long ago, after I devoted my life fully and completely to the service of the gods.”

“Maybe so,” said Yorak. “But I still think of you as Chen Wirm. Besides, if you had truly devoted yourself to the gods, you would do as I am doing and get out of this god's way.”

Before the Magical Superior could respond, Jenur Takren appeared, like she had teleported, in front of him and Yorak. She looked harried, with her curly dark hair smelling like smoke and soot. Her robes were stained with ash, which told the Magical Superior that she must have just gotten back from the ruins of the Third Dorm.

Panting, her hands on her knees, Jenur took a moment to catch her breath before she looked up at the Magical Superior and asked, “Darek. I was told Darek is hurt. Where is Darek?”

She must have heard about his battle with the chimera,
the Magical Superior thought, but aloud, he said, “In the medical wing of the Arcanium, where Eyurna is looking after him.”

Jenur let out a powerful sigh of relief. “Oh, that's good. I thought he might be … but never mind. I am going to go see him now.”

“I hope your son recovers,” said Yorak, who looked a little annoyed at how Jenur had ignored her. “What he did was foolish yet brave. Let him know I am thankful that he stopped the chimera before it caused more trouble or harmed any of my students.”

“Why?” said Jenur. “Can't you tell him yourself? It's not like he's going anywhere.”

“I will be leaving soon,” said Yorak. “I and all of my students. We're going back to the Institute. Today, most likely within the next hour.”

Jenur stood up, a look of confusion on her face. “But … why?”

“Because this school is dangerous,” said Yorak. “First, one of your dormitories blows up, leading to the injury of one student. Then two katabans destroy your Guardian machine. And then this chimera attacks and almost succeeds in killing another student.”

“None of that is our fault, though,” said Jenur. “It's … well, I don't know whose fault it is, but it's not ours. Why not stick around a little while longer until we get this all figured out?”

“I already had this discussion with the Superior,” said Yorak, gesturing at him. “I already made my points to him and I do not wish to rehash them for an arrogant, disrespectful teacher like you.”

“Arrogant? Disrespectful?” said Jenur, her eyes widening in anger.

“Jenur, please calm down,” said the Magical Superior, holding up one hand. “Yorak is very stressed out at the moment, as we all are. She did not mean to insult you.”

“I only spoke the truth,” said Yorak. She spread her arms, as if to encompass the whole school. “And the truth is, North Academy is right in the middle of something far worse and far deeper than I care to find out about. And even worse, this situation may result in the deaths of my own students if we stay here but a moment longer than we have to.”

Jenur opened her mouth, most likely to make the same arguments that the Magical Superior had already made. The Superior did not want her to waste her time, however, or to anger Yorak further, as he did not want to destroy all ties between North Academy and the Undersea Institute.

So he said, “Jenur, I see you must have just returned from the ruins of the Third Dorm. How is the investigation going?”

Jenur turned her attention to the Superior as she dusted some ash out of her hair. “About as well as you'd expect. So far, we haven't found any clues as to the identity of the attacker … well, except for this.”

Jenur pulled something small and round from out of her robes' pocket. She held out her hand toward the Magical Superior and opened it. The Superior leaned forward to get a better look at the clue. He heard Yorak leaning forward, too, but he did not look at her because his eyes were focused entirely on the object in Jenur's hand.

Lying in the palm of her hand was a stone that was blackened on one side, but blood red on the other. It was perfectly round, like the beads crafted by the Divine Carvers, but the Magical Superior at first did not know what it was.

“It's a blood tear,” said Jenur, though neither the Superior nor Yorak had asked. “A magical item that's usually associated with Mica, the Goddess of Stone and Ink. It was found in the wreckage of Darek and Jiku's room, hidden under the remains of their bunk bed.”

“What is so impressive about this?” said Yorak. “Do either of them own blood tears?”

“That's the thing,” said Jenur. “Neither Darek nor Jiku have ever owned a blood tear. We think it was left by the attacker.”