The Mindmage's Wrath: A Book of Underrealm (The Academy Journals 2) (15 page)

“Tell me,” she said. “I have given you several reasons it could be true. Tell me one piece of proof against it.”

Ebon raised his hands, gesturing helplessly as he said the only thing he could. “I cannot. But even if it is true, still we must catch Lilith.”

“You are right,” said Theren, her savage grin widening. “Sunday night cannot come fast enough.”

The next few days passed far too slowly, like leaves clinging stubborn to a tree, and with Ebon wishing all the while for Sunday night to be over and done with. Certainly sneaking into the vaults would terrify him, but it could not be worse than the waiting.

Sunday after dinner, Ebon met Kalem in the halls near the library. They stood awkwardly with their arms folded, leaning against walls and trying not to look suspicious. Finally Kalem threw his hands up in the air.

“Where is she? I am beginning to have doubts about this whole thing.”

“Only now?” said Ebon. “I thought you doubted it from the first.”

Kalem only glowered, and when he spoke it was not to answer. “What if we cannot escape as she planned? She says enchantments keep us from tunneling in, not out. How would she know? She is no transmuter.”

“You mean alchemist.”

“I mean alchem—” Kalem stopped short, his eyes narrowing.

Just then they heard the rumbling of iron wheels, and soon Theren appeared from around the corner, pushing a mammoth wooden cart that looked like it might fall over. It was swathed with many blankets.

“There you two are,” she said. “Well, here it is. Our manner of entering the vaults.”

“Would you like to say it louder?” said Kalem, looking about nervously.

“Oh, calm yourself. And climb aboard.” Peeling back a few of the blankets, Theren revealed a lower shelf of the cart, built just above the wheels so that, with the blankets laid down, no one could tell it was there at all.

“You mean to sneak us in on this thing?” said Ebon. “I feel as though I have taken splinters just from looking at it.”

“I am sorry—did you expect a cushion?” said Theren. “Sit, little goldbag, and be grateful.”

Ebon was not grateful, but he sat, and Kalem climbed in beside him. Theren threw the blanket back down so that they were hidden. Ebon and Kalem looked at each other nervously as the cart began to roll on.

They stopped after a few moments, and there came the creaking of a large door. There were two, Theren had told them, before they reached the administration room. Within it was a closet in which this cart and many others were kept, where she would stow them until she was ready to move on. At the creak of the second door, Ebon held his breath; now they were no longer alone.

“Good eve, Egil,” said Theren brightly.

“Hello, my friend,” came an ancient and creaking voice. “Stay awhile, and listen. I have found an account of something most interesting.”

“I am afraid I cannot,” said Theren. “I have yet to complete my entries for the day. Another time, perhaps.”

“Ah. Very well, then. Another time.”

There came the sound of another, much smaller door, and the cart rolled forwards again. The second door shut, and they found themselves in utter darkness.

“This must be the closet,” whispered Kalem.

“I think so.” Ebon risked peeling back one of the blankets and peeking out. Slowly his eyes adjusted to the scant light from under the door. They were indeed in a closet, filled with more carts like the one upon which they sat. He slid out and onto the floor as silent as a mouse, and Kalem quickly followed. Together they stole over to the door, where candlelight illuminated them from below and cast Kalem’s eyes in shadow.

There was nothing to hear, other than the thin scribbling of quills on parchment from Theren and Egil, and Egil’s persistent cough. But Ebon knew there was another person in the room—a palace guard standing at the vault’s main door. He wondered suddenly if they should stay in the cart. What if the guard thought to investigate the closet?

He was just about to reach for Kalem’s shoulder and say as much, but then in the room beyond, Egil dissolved into a fit of hacking coughs. They went on and on, until Ebon could fairly hear the phlegm splashing out of the old man and onto the table. He cringed.

“Egil, are you all right?” Ebon heard swift footsteps as Theren went to his side. “Quick, run and get him some water.”

“You get it,” came the voice of the guard.

“I cannot—I am in the middle of my forms, and if I stop now I shall have to start over. Run to the kitchens. It will not take you a moment.”

There was silence as the guard hesitated. But then they heard hasty footsteps as she left, and then a few sharp slaps as Theren pounded Egil on the back. Soon the coughing died away, and with effort he spoke in a rasp.

“I am all right. I am all right. Thank you, Theren. Drat these fits. They are coming more and more often. Not long now.”

“Do not be so morbid, old man.”

He chuckled. “You are a good child, Theren. Thank you. You should get back to your forms.”

“They can wait a moment. And besides,
you
should be going to bed. It is late, after all.”

“Mayhap you are right. But I have not finished this page—”

“The page can wait. You need your rest. Come on, off you go.”

Another croaking chuckle. “Very well. You will make a fine mother one day, if you wish it—or you can simply continue to baby me.”

“As long as you will let me. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Slow, shuffling footsteps receded. Then Theren ran to the closet and threw it open.

“We must hurry. That took far longer than I thought, and we have little time.”

Ebon and Kalem leapt up and followed her to a wide, iron door on their left. Theren threw the latch and flung it open, and then ushered them inside before closing it once more. Immediately she set off at a run down the hall, torches flickering to either side at the wind of her passing.

They had no time to gather their bearings, but as they ran, Ebon noted their surroundings: thick wooden doors in rows to either side, each set in a stone arch with a pointed peak. Torches lit the place well, but left every corner flickering in shadow. The ceiling was oppressively low compared to the Academy’s usual spaciousness, and he found himself ducking with every other step. And something else was odd. His skin had begun to crawl from the moment he set foot in the vaults, hair rising on the back of his neck as though some danger pursued him.

“This place gives me an ill feeling,” he said as they ran.

“It is the enchantments,” said Theren. “They are worked into every door, but only wizards can sense them. They are the artifacts’ greatest protection.”

“Not very good protection if we strode in so boldly,” Kalem pointed out.

“They are for the rooms, not the halls themselves,” said Theren. “The rooms are where the darkest secrets are kept.”

They turned a corner, and then another. The itching under Ebon’s skin increased, until he wished to stop and claw at himself. Then Theren skidded to a stop, so quickly that Kalem and Ebon slammed into her from behind. There before them was a door—or rather, a frame, for the door was gone.

“Here it is,” said Theren. “This is the room from which the artifact was taken.”

“Well then, search for Lilith’s spell-sight,” said Kalem.

“I will,” said Theren, glaring at him. “You go to the corner and keep a lookout.”

Kalem ran off, grumbling. Ebon lingered as Theren fell to one knee and ran her hands along the edges of the doorframe, eyes glowing.

Curious, he leaned over to look past her and into the room. It was a plain space, no more than four paces to a side, made of the same black granite as the rest of the Academy. But the floor was polished white marble, and in the center of the room sat a table of silver that stood on a single leg. The table lay bare. Looking still closer, he could see all sorts of designs traced into it. They looked familiar, but he could not place them—until he remembered the same sort of designs worked into the Academy’s front door.

Theren looked up for a moment, following his gaze. “They are sigils of enchantment,” she said. She turned back to the door, but kept speaking. The soft glow of her eyes lit the iron framing under her fingers. “Meant to protect Kekhit’s amulet from thieves, but in some cases they protect anyone present from the power of the artifact.”

“I should like to learn enchantment, if I can,” said Ebon.

“I wish you good fortune,” said Theren. “There are few who teach it. Fewer still among alchemists.” Then her hands fell, and the glow faded from her eyes as she hung her head. “Damn it. Darkness damn it all.”

“What?” said Ebon, stepping forwards quickly. “Is it her?”

“No. I was certain it would be, but it is not.” Theren looked up in regret. “I am sorry.”

Ebon muttered a curse. “And you do not recognize it as anyone else?”

“No one that I know of. It is partially obscured, though done in haste. I only know that it is not Lilith, and that I know for certain.”

Just then, Kalem came running down the hall towards them. “Someone is coming! We must flee!”

“Who is it?” said Ebon.

Theren gripped them both by the arm. “Never mind that—
run!”

She took her own advice, and they were quick to follow. Turn after turn she led them down, until Ebon was lost. Every hallway looked the same. Once he was sure they passed the same open door where they had started, but that was impossible. At last they found a place with a sort of alcove, in which rested a small iron bench.

“Here,” she said. “Under the bench. It is the most likely place to be overlooked. And they will no doubt have lost us by now.”

Kalem fell to his knees, and the hallway flashed white with the glow in his eyes. Stone melted away beneath his fingertips. Ebon knelt beside him and did his best to help. “Who was it?” he said through panting breaths.

“I could not see,” said Kalem. “As soon as I heard their footsteps, I ran as quickly as I could.”

SNAP!

The air crackled with power. The stone, which only a moment before had been flowing like water, snapped back into place. In an instant, the wall was just as it had always been. Ebon and Kalem looked at each other in confusion—but then Ebon felt Theren’s hand tugging him up by the shoulder, and he rose to stand beside her. Before them stood Xain, eyes dark with fury, and Jia, with a white glow fading from her eyes.

sixteen

JIA MARCHED THEM THROUGH THE halls towards the Dean’s quarters, one hand on Theren’s shoulder and the other on Ebon’s. Kalem followed meekly to the side like a beaten dog. Xain was just beside them, his footsteps silent.

When they reached the door, Jia released Ebon’s shoulder to open it. Ebon began to step in, but she jerked him back. Xain hesitated half a moment, and then entered first, sweeping over to his desk and sitting in the wide, plush chair. Jia nudged them forwards before taking her place at Xain’s side. Ebon approached the desk meekly, eyes on his feet, and Kalem beside him; but Theren carelessly threw herself in one of the chairs.

“Stand, Theren,” snapped Jia. “This is not some casual visit.”

Theren obeyed without question, her expression calm. Standing beside Ebon, hands clasped behind her back, she spoke first. “You should let the two of them go. All of this was my idea.”

Jia scoffed. “Even if that were true—and I have my doubts—they would be guilty for following you. We do not teach our pupils to blindly follow every mad suggestion that comes their way.”

“I forced them to do it,” said Theren. “I said I would spread their darkest secrets through the school if they did not do as I asked.” Ebon risked a glance in her direction, but she kept her eyes on Jia.

“Oh?” Jia arched an eyebrow. “And what dark secrets are those?”

Theren spread her hands. “They did as I asked.”

Xain had stayed silent and moved not a muscle. His hands gripped the arms of his chair, and Ebon might have thought the Dean was not even listening to the exchange—and perhaps that was true, for his eyes never left Ebon’s face.

But Theren’s casual indifference had struck a nerve in Jia, and she slapped her hand on the desk. “This is not some jest, Theren. You know the vaults are forbidden to students except in performance of their servitude, and you know
why,
better than most who study here. And as an aside, you have utterly disregarded the entire point of your services, and from this point on, you will help clean the privies instead.”

Theren did not even blink. “That seems fair, Instructor.”

Jia’s nostrils flared. “There will be more punishment than that, besides, I can assure you.” She turned to Ebon and Kalem. “And the two of you. What were you thinking? Theren has some history of getting into trouble, but the two of you are boys from proud and noble families. I had hoped you might have some positive influence on her, and not the other way around.”

“I have told you it was my idea,” said Theren, speaking before Ebon could reply. “I have learned to read the signs of other wizards. I noticed while filling out my logs that something had been taken from the vaults, and I thought I might be able to discover who.”

“Spell-sight,” Jia said with a snort. But then her eyes sharpened. “You did not sense anything, did you?”