The Mindmage's Wrath: A Book of Underrealm (The Academy Journals 2) (27 page)

Lilith chewed at her nail. She had already bitten it away, and blood sprouted from her skin beneath her teeth. “I did not kill any others.
I did not kill Credell.
I did not kill ... I hope I did not kill Vali.”

“What do you mean you
hope
you did not,” said Theren. “We were there, Lilith. We saw you.”

Ebon waved her to silence. “I do not mean more victims, Lilith. We know there were no more. I mean others you were working with. Other conspirators. Can you name them?”

Lilith shuddered in her chair. “I ... there was another. Another. I cannot say.”

“Please,” said Ebon. “Please, Lilith, tell us. If we find them, we can find what was stolen.”

She stopped moving, and when her eyes met his, they were clear as fresh water. “And what will happen to me then?”

The room went still. Theren looked away. Ebon shook his head. “Then, at least, the pain will end.”

Lilith burst into tears, burying her face in her arms on the table. “It is not fair. Not fair, not fair. I do not want to die. Do not want to die. I cannot remember the face of the other. And I do not want to die.”

“I doubt Vali wanted to die,” spat Theren. But it seemed to Ebon that some of the venom had seeped from her tone.

That only made Lilith recoil further. Ebon could feel her slipping away. He scooted forwards in his chair. “Is it worth it, Lilith? Staying alive, only to suffer more of this pain?”

She curled up in her chair again, rocking back and forth. “I do not want to die. I cannot remember. I did not kill Credell. I do not want to die.”

“Please, Lilith. Where did you take the artifacts? Tell us that, at least.”

There was no answer, and from her fevered mutterings, he knew none would come. Ebon sighed and stood, pushing his chair back. Together, mute, he and Theren left the room. The Mystics stood solemn outside, heads bowed, and Jia looked at them with sad eyes.

“It was good of you to try,” she said softly. “We should be going.”

She took them outside the constables’ station. But Theren’s legs shook beneath her, and she gripped Ebon’s arm for support. When Jia turned to see what was the matter, Theren forced a smile. Ebon could see the tears shining in her eye, threatening to spill forth. “I wonder if I might walk back alone, Instructor? I need more air to clear my head.”

Jia frowned. But Ebon met her gaze. “I can remain with her. I, too, would not mind some time out of my classroom.”

“Of course,” said Jia, nodding. She gave Theren a final, mournful look, and then slipped away through the city streets.

At once Theren staggered off, away from the street and down an alley between two buildings. Once in the shadows she began breathing hard, her shoulders heaving, little screams of frustration bursting forth every few moments. She turned to the brick wall beside her and struck it with her fist.

“Theren!” cried Ebon. “Theren, stop it!”

She ignored him and struck again. Her eyes burst into white light, and her magic spilled forth. A chunk erupted from the wall with a
crash,
and a shard of stone grazed Ebon’s cheek, flinging him to the ground.

“Stop it!” he screamed.

At first he thought she did not hear him, for again she punched the wall. But then she stopped, and turned, leaning back against the brick with her eyes closed as she faced the grey sky.

“What is the matter with you?” said Ebon. “You act as though you have been seized by madness.”

Theren shook her head, eyes still closed. “I suppose I have, after a fashion. You have asked me often before, Ebon, why Lilith and I hate each other so. Or I suppose I should say, why I hate Lilith, for she has never returned the courtesy. It might have been easier if she had.”

Ebon pushed himself up from the ground, trying to dust the mud from his sleeves. With a finger he gently probed his cheek, and it came away with a small streak of blood. He pressed the cut hard with his palm. “Speak plainly, Theren.”

“We were lovers once,” Theren blurted. The air went very still, and for a moment Ebon forgot to breathe. She gave a deep sigh, and then at last opened her eyes to meet his gaze. “Lilith and I. For almost three years, before the two of us knew much of what we were doing.”

Ebon blinked, shaking his head. “You ... you and Lilith? But you have hated goldbags since even before we met. It is ... I do not understand.”

“I hated them, it is true. Yet you and Kalem have earned my trust, for you are not like most of them. Neither was Lilith, once. She was only a child, or scarcely more than one. And of course we were not in class together, but we studied together in the library, and we spent time together in other places. I learned another side of her, and it was one I came to love dearly. She felt the same. But then, as we both grew into adulthood, she began to act more like the rest of her family. The family Yerrin is not so dark as your own, but neither are they gentle folk. And Lilith was a favored scion of their house, unlike you, who have long had cause to take issue with the evils of your kin. Lilith embraced them instead. And so I knew I could be with her no longer. She never forgave me for leaving—but I think her feelings for me never faded, as mine did for her.”

“But ... but you were so eager to prove her guilt,” said Ebon, shaking his head. “How could you ...?”

Theren blinked hard, fighting to hold back her weeping. “I thought her family was behind it. I thought to prove it, and thus to show her—to show Lilith—that they had no love for her in their hearts. At last I thought she might see the folly of her ways. I did not know she had been seized by this madness. And now Vali ... that poor boy ...”

She turned away.

So much seemed clear to Ebon now that had been strange before. The way Theren had always hated Lilith, beyond logic or reason. The way Lilith would never fight back, no matter what Theren did to her.
 

“It must have been terrible for you. Seeing her do that.”

Theren choked on a sob, and tried in vain to turn it to a barking laugh. “It was. For many, love is a cruel and unkind mistress, and never more so than with Lilith and I.”

“Love, you say. Do you love her?”

She shrugged. “Who knows? I think it is better I do not, for her time in this world will soon be ending.”

“Yet often love springs forth unbidden.”

Even through her tears, Theren smirked. “This is not some Elf-tale between you and Adara, Ebon. This is life, and life is cruel. Lilith embraced its cruelty, and now she will pay the price.”

Once, Ebon might have been secretly pleased at the thought of Lilith’s death—not that he wished her such harm, but that she would no longer torment him. But now, its inevitability only made him feel hollow.

He reached out a hand for his friend. “Come, Theren. It is cold out, and the day is only just beginning. Let us leave the streets, and try to leave our troubles as well.”

“I do not think it shall be as easy as that.” But she took his hand, and let him draw her away from the wall, and together they made their way back to the Academy.

twenty-eight

The memory of Lilith in the constables’ station haunted Ebon for the next few days. Often he would catch himself thinking of her in class, when Perrin’s sharp rebuke would bring him back to his spells. Or he would sit in the library, staring at the same page for nearly an hour before realizing he was not seeing the words at all, but Lilith’s wild, darting eyes.

Her madness struck him as odd. He knew that torture could do strange things to a mind. But Lilith’s frantic muttering and wordless rocking in her chair seemed like something more than that.

Fingers snapped before his eyes, bringing him back to the dining hall where he ate with Kalem and Theren.

“Ebon,” said Kalem. “What is the matter with you? You have not spoken since we sat down to eat, nor have you touched your food.”

“I am sorry. My thoughts these days are troubled. What were you saying?”

Kalem sighed and turned away. “Oh, nothing of great import. But
you
had better treat your classes with better attention. I hear Perrin has half a mind to kick you back to the first-years’ class.”

Ebon chuckled. “She did, until yesterday when I managed to shift stone back into the box.” It had almost been an accident, but still he had done it; after shifting the stone from the little wooden cube, he had managed to scoop it all back in. When he tried repeating the spell, of course, the stone had splattered all over the place, but at least he had done it the once.

Theren was silent beside them, glaring down into her oatmeal, sullen as she had been since their visit to Lilith. Ebon had come to regret bringing her along. He was glad to know the truth of her relationship to Lilith, but at the same time, it was obvious she had been greatly disturbed by their trip.

When their meal was over with, they made for the hallways. Theren struck off on her own without a word, while Kalem ruefully shook his head and bid Ebon farewell. He headed for Perrin’s class, alone in the hallways, when a sharp whisper stopped him. He rounded, and saw Oren lurking in an alcove.

Ebon glanced up and down the hallway in both directions, suddenly unsure. He wondered if this might be some trick—especially since he did not see Nella, who he trusted more.

With a frustrated growl, Oren seized his sleeve and dragged him down the hallway, ducking out the first white door they found and emerging onto the Academy’s grounds. Quickly he hauled Ebon to the great outer wall, stepping into a hedge where no one could see them.

“What is this about, Oren?”

The boy’s eyes were wild. “I have heard you saw Lilith.”

Relief flooded Ebon, and he loosed a sigh. “Oh. Yes, I did. But you could have asked me that in the hallway.”

Oren ignored him, seizing the front of his robes. “How is she? Are they treating her well?”

Ebon gave him a quizzical frown. “No, Oren. They are not. She is a murderer, and being put to the question for...” He stopped, for he could not tell Oren about the artifacts. Then he took another look at the boy, and realized there was something odd about him. His hands were twitching where they held Ebon’s lapels, and every muscle in his face was twitching. His eyes darted every which way, not seeming to search for anyone coming near, but simply out of an inability to sit still. Gaunt was his face, drawn thin as though he was starving. It had only been four days since Ebon had seen him last, but the change in his features was startling.

“Are
you
all right, Oren?”

“Of course I am,” Oren snapped. “I am not the one under the knives of the Mystics.”

“You do not look well.”

“I am fine!”
cried Oren, shaking him. Ebon seized his wrists and tried throwing him off, but Oren had the grip of a madman.

“Fine, then,” said Ebon through gritted teeth. “Let me go. I have told you what I saw.”

“Lilith could not have done it, Ebon. She
would
not. And
could
not. I know her. She is my cousin. We have spent all our lives together. She is no murderer, I tell you.”

Ebon felt himself soften. He put a hand on Oren’s shoulder. “I was there, Oren. We all were. Nella tried to stop her. We saw what she did to Vali.”

“She did not,” said Oren, shaking his head. “She was ... that was ...”

“I am sorry,” said Ebon. “But at least it is over.”

“She did not!”
Oren shoved Ebon away, and light sprang into his eyes. He held out both palms, and flames erupted in the center of each. Ebon raised his hands to shield his face, terrified.

But then the flames winked out as quickly as they had come. Oren stared at his palms, horrified.

“I did not mean ... I would never ...”

Ebon tried to answer, but Oren ignored it, turning away. He wandered slowly off, still staring at his hands, muttering
I would never, I would never.

A thrill of fear coursed through Ebon, and he made his shaky way back to Perrin’s class.

The next day, Ebon was practicing his counter-magic again. He sat opposite Astrea on the bench, each of them holding one end of the wooden rod. He could tell her heart was not in it, and yet still he could do nothing to stop her.

“Try again,” he said. “I think I am ready.”

Astrea sighed. Her eyes filled with light, and she pushed stone up along the wooden rod. Ebon’s own eyes glowed in response. He sought for the stone, trying to stop it. He could
almost
see it,
almost
glimpse the particles of stone sliding along the wood. But they were surrounded by some sort of glow, and he could not see through it to the stone beneath.

Soon it was done, and Astrea held up the stone rod with a sigh. Ebon growled in frustration. But then he thought again about what he had seen. He squinted at the rod, and a careful smile stole across his face.

“Try it again.”

“Ebon, I am weary of this.”

“Please, Astrea. I have just thought of something that may work.”

She sighed, changing the rod back to wood, and then placed the other end in his palm. Once more her eyes glowed, and stone rippled along the rod.

Ebon focused on the glow. He saw it, sliding along the wood, transforming it piece by piece. But now, rather than trying to stop the stone, he seized the glow, and ...
squeezed
.