Smoke and Memories (The Dark Sorcerer Book 3)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “Have you forgotten so much of what you learned at the Academy?”

  “I haven’t forgotten anything I learned there,” she said.

  “You must have. Otherwise, you would’ve remembered that the Society was founded in Yolith.”

  “That’s right,” she said.

  She paused, looking around the room. She had worked her way down one entire shelf, peeling out books and finding nothing. She had figured that the histories of the Society would be found in an older text, but she hadn’t uncovered anything so far. She worked as quickly as she could, going book by book, and the more time she spent doing so, the more she began to wonder if any of the sorcerers would have a need to come into the library and inadvertently interrupt them. If Master Agnew found her here . . .

  She would leave, but she didn’t like what effect that would have on Char.

  “You’ve obviously forgotten other material too,” he said. “We were taught that when the Society was founded, it was as a way to study the world, trying to master the inner workings of it.”

  “Yes, that’s what they tell us at the Academy,” she said.

  She looked around the library. There was a single wooden chair set into a corner, and no desk or any other place to study. It was poorly lit, though the presence of sorcery was evident everywhere, from the pale glow that suffused the room to the pressure she felt all around her and the musty odor in the air that reminded her of her time in the Academy.

  “And that doesn’t make it any less true,” Char replied.

  Jayna nodded, pushing away the soft surge of irritation she felt. These days, irritation came more quickly to her. It had to be tied to the Toral ring, the power within it and the darkness it brought, but she worried about why she would continue to feel such irritation, especially toward Char. There was be no reason for her to be upset with him.

  “You still haven’t told me what exactly you were looking for,” he said.

  Jayna pulled open the book she was looking at and flipped through the pages for a moment before setting it back on the shelf. It was another list of inventory, though this one seemed to be an inventory of enchantments. Something like that could be valuable in the right circumstances, but not right now—not when she didn’t have the time to devote to looking through it, and not when she didn’t know if there was anything else happening in the city. If she had time, then maybe she could return to the library to try to understand the enchantments and how they were tied to the founders of Nelar, the dular who had taken up positions of leadership.

  “I told you I was looking into the founders of the Society. The twelve.”

  “I don’t know if it’s only twelve who founded the Society,” he said.

  “Maybe not,” she said.

  “And you still haven’t told me why that’s important.”

  “There’s something more taking place within the city, something beyond dark magic us, but I don’t know exactly what it is.”

  “Which is not at all helpful.” Char offered a hint of a smile. “It seems to me you’re trying to force me to help you, but you aren’t giving me any sort of information nor any reason to keep being helpful.” He paused, leaning on the shelf, one hand pushing a book into it. “What did you learn? Something triggered you to come over here,” he said. “Otherwise, I doubt you would’ve bothered to come looking for my help.”

  “I would have come for your help regardless,” she whispered.

  “Maybe eventually,” he said. “But something else happened—something that has you worried.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not going to keep looking unless I know more about what it is and why you’ve been upset.”

  “I’m not upset with you.”

  “But you’re still upset.”

  Jayna needed to share with him. Maybe he could help her.

  He’d been digging into Eva, and she understood the Ashara would help her with the other part of her search. It was not just about understanding the twelve and trying to determine if they had truly founded the Sorcerers’ Society, nor was it only about trying to understand why Nelar would be the focus of magic.

  “It’s about my friend,” she said quickly.

  “I thought you wanted to wait to talk about that.”

  “Do you want me to share with you or not?”

  “Of course I do,” Char said quickly.

  She waved her hand toward the bookshelf. “Then get looking.”

  “Just like that?” Char asked.

  “Well, if you want me to talk, then you’re going to work. I’ll keep talking as long as you keep working.”

  “I see.”

  He turned his attention back to the shelf and pulled books out. He looked through each one a little bit longer than she did.

  “I really should have spent more time in here before you came,” Char said.

  “I thought you did.”

  “Not so much. I have the books I brought with me. Those have been my references along with the sorcerers here. I don’t really have time to spend in the library.”

  Jayna looked around. “I don’t think anybody has had much time to spend in the library. Looks like it’s been abandoned.”

  “It’s more likely that they have simply neglected organization over time,” Char said with a smile.

  “As I said before, it’s too bad they haven’t organized it better.”

  “And it’s too bad you haven’t started telling me about your friend.” He paused, leaning on the shelf.

  Jayna shook her head. “Eva and I met about a year ago. I found her on the roadside and offered her what help I could.”

  “None of that is new information,” Char said.

  “I’m starting there because I think it’s important for us to get on the same page, as it were,” she said, looking at the books all around her. “When I first encountered her, I thought she was injured. I told you I had attempted to heal her.”

  “You did,” Char said. “You also said you didn’t know how injured she was.”

  “I didn’t. I still don’t. I don’t know anything about Eva, other than what she has done with me in the time we’ve been together.”

  “She’s helped you though.”

  Jayna nodded quickly. “She has helped me. That’s what I keep trying to tell her, especially when she gets lost . . .”

  “What do you mean, ‘she gets lost’?”

  “I’ve been struggling with trying to help her. She has gaps in her memory. It’s amazing some of the things she does recall, some of the ways she can—”

  Char grinned at her. “You can go ahead and say it. The way she uses her magic.”

  “Fine. The way she uses her magic. I don’t really understand all of the power she has, but I know it’s different from anything I’ve ever seen before—even since I’ve left the Academy.”

  “She uses smoke and heat,” he said.

  “Something like that.”

  “It’s exactly that,” Char said. “I’ve seen the smoke, Jayna. I’ve seen the way she uses it. She can control it.” He shrugged. “I don’t know how she calls on that magic, but . . .”

  “Blood,” Jayna said softly.

  “What?”

  She nodded. “It’s her blood. She has enchantments, or something similar to them, that she uses to pierce her palms. When she does, she bleeds, and that blood drips on the ground, turns to smoke, and she controls it.”

  “She’s bleeding for her magic?” Char shook his head. “And here we used to claim in the Academy that they worked us to the bone, trying to practically kill us so we could gain control of our power.”

  “Keep working,” Jayna said.

  Char turned back to the shelf. “Sorry. It’s just . . . I haven’t heard anything like that before.”

  “I haven’t either, and I’ve seen some things since I left the Academy.”

  “I’m sure you have,” he said.

  “Stop,” she said.

  “Stop with what?”

  “With
that implication. I haven’t gotten into dark magic.”

  “I’ve seen the things you do, Jayna. I’ve seen the kind of people you’re around.”

  “What you haven’t seen are the kinds of things I’ve stopped,” she said.

  “I don’t think using dark magic to stop dark magic makes it any better,” he said.

  “My brother would’ve said otherwise,” she said.

  “Really? And now all of a sudden this is about Jonathan?”

  “That’s what this has always been about,” she said.

  “And how’s that going?” Char looked over to her, pausing as he pulled a book off the shelf, scanning the cover. “How has that helped you in your search for your brother? I don’t really know all of the reasons you’ve gone after this power, but if it’s just about Jonathan—”

  “It’s not just about Jonathan. It’s about my parents and what happened to them.”

  “You mean the accident.”

  “I don’t even know if it was an accident. Not anymore.”

  “So you’ve suddenly started to believe there was some sort of dark magic attack that killed your parents.”

  “I’m doing what’s necessary to figure that out. Whether or not you believe it, I feel it’s true,” she said.

  “You feel it’s true because you want it to be true. You don’t want to believe you’re drawing on dark magic without a good reason, and you don’t want to believe you’re doing something they warned us about when we were in the Academy.”

  “They never warned us about the things I’ve seen,” Jayna said. “The things I see. They never taught us about the dangers of this power, about how seductive it could be.”

  “They did,” Char said. “You just weren’t listening.”

  “I was listening,” she insisted. “They just didn’t provide us with everything we needed in order to resist that kind of power.”

  Without the background she had from the Academy, Jayna might not have been equipped for what she had encountered, but even with that, it still hadn’t been enough. There were dangers in the world she hadn’t been trained for, and the things she had seen since leaving the Academy had opened her eyes in ways that she never would’ve imagined before.

  Perhaps that was what bothered her about what Char did, the way he seemed to refuse to look at the world, to keep his eyes open. Char was an incredibly smart man—one of the smartest she’d ever known—and she would’ve expected him to be willing to open his eyes, to see the world for what it was, and to look out and recognize the dangers that existed. She would’ve expected Char to try to understand more, especially given what Jayna had shown him.

  “You were telling me about your friend,” Char said, looking over to her, his voice soft.

  Jayna took a deep breath and pulled another book off the shelf, pushing it back in frustration after glancing at it for only a second. None of these were what she was looking for.

  This was an entire waste of time. Coming here, spending time with Char, had simply wasted her afternoon. And she still needed to keep looking.

  There was something taking place. Maybe it didn’t have to do with one of the twelve whom Ceran wanted her to look into, but whatever it was, she felt increasingly certain that it was bound to drive the Society and the dular against each other.

  And she didn’t understand how this enchantment designed to look like the Ashara was involved.

  “I was telling you about Eva,” Jayna agreed. “And I guess the key is that she’s lost part of her memory.” She shook her head. “To hear her talk about it, she says it’s like holes in her memory, or gaps, and from time to time, those gaps are filled, giving her flashes of knowledge she once had, but then they fade, disappearing in a way that leaves her uncertain.”

  “I’ve never heard of anything like that,” he said.

  “I haven’t either.”

  “No,” Char said, turning to her, crossing his arms over his chest. “I work in healing magic, Jayna, and I’ve heard of people losing their memories—there are dozens of ways that could happen. I’ve seen head injuries where people have amnesia afterwards. I’ve seen trauma where part of a person’s mind stops working. I’ve even seen magic that confounds people, stealing their will and taking some part of them away. What caused her to have this piecemeal memory?”

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  Char tipped his head, frowning at her. “You’ve been looking into it.”

  Jayna nodded. “I have. I wanted to see if there was anything I could do for Eva. I’ve spent time at each stop where we go researching, talking to healers and as many people as possible in order to find out something that could help her.” She just hadn’t consulted sorcerers—at least, not before Char.

  “You care about her.”

  “She’s been helpful,” Jayna said.

  “Just helpful?”

  “It’s more than that,” Jayna agreed.

  “What is it?”

  She held Char’s eyes for a long moment. “Ever since leaving the Academy, I haven’t had too many friends. She’s a friend.”

  Char turned away. “You didn’t have to leave the Academy.”

  “I did, though.”

  “You didn’t. You didn’t have to leave me.”

  “I didn’t leave you,” Jayna said. She pushed the book that she’d pulled off the shelf back into place and grabbed his wrist, forcing him to turn to look at her. “I left the Academy. Not you, Char. Had it been only about you, I would’ve stayed. You . . . you’ve been more than just a friend.”

  “I haven’t.”

  “You have. We have this link between us, this connection, and it’s bridged us.”

  “I wish it would help me understand you,” he said softly.

  “You need a linking spell to know me? You need something like that to know what’s in my heart?” She shook her head, but still hadn’t released his wrist. “You’ve known me, Char. You’ve known me ever since we first came to the Academy, and you’ve known the person I am—the person I’ve become. You’ve known me in a way that nobody else has. Do you really think I’m a dark magic user?”

  That was what it came down to. That was what bothered Char the most, and that was what Jayna had to get past. If she could find a way to help Char bridge that concern and get beyond the fear of her using some dark magic, then maybe she could finally get to him. Maybe she could even do more than that—maybe she could connect to him, get him to understand her, and she could . . .

  “No,” he said, looking away.

  “I’m not saying that some of the things I’ve done aren’t dark.” She shook her head, turning away from him and staring at the bookshelf. “The gods know there’ve been times I’ve used magic in ways we were taught not to at the Academy, but I’ve also used magic in ways I feel we needed to learn at the Academy.” She breathed out slowly. “Does that make sense?”

  “It does.”

  “And now, I’m concerned about my friend. I’m concerned that someone—or several someones—are trying to make it look like her or someone like her has been attacking.”

  “Wait. There’s somebody else like her?”

  “No, but there are enchantments that are designed to look like her magic.”

  “Why didn’t you just start with that?”

  “Because I didn’t know how,” she said.

  “You start by telling me that there’s somebody else in the city, something else with that kind of power, and then we go from there. You don’t talk around it,” Char said.

  “You were asking about my connection to Eva; I was explaining it to you.”

  He chuckled. “And now there’s another strange magical person running around the city . . . and doing what?”

  “Well, I’m not exactly sure if it’s a person or just enchantments—or if Eva is even a person.” She trailed off as she said it.

  He frowned at her. “What would she be, then?”

  “According to one of the sources I have, she might be a magica
l creature. Some of the stories say the Ashara are shapeshifters that can take on human form. Or they work for some creature and are empowered by them. Either way, it’s concerning.”

  “Not human, but they can take human form? Jayna, there isn’t anything like that.”

  “Just like there isn’t anything like her injury. Or her magic.” Jayna shrugged. “I can’t say I have all the answers, but I can tell you the Academy doesn’t have all the answers either—and the Society certainly doesn’t have them.”

  “I see,” Char said.

  “I’m worried for her.”

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “When I first came across the other one like her, I found him standing over a sorcerer.”

  Char’s eyes widened. “Jayna—”

  “Before you go too much into that, you should know he was a dark sorcerer. I could feel the magic he was drawing on, and I saw one of the markers for the Order of Norej on him.”

  And the Society might have had an opportunity to see that if the body hadn’t burned.

  “They’re all gone,” he said.

  “Not all,” she said. “I have a hard time thinking that we would have removed all of them from the city, even if we tried. The Order is still here. The Celebrants of Asymorn are still out there. And . . .”

  She didn’t want to push it too hard, but she suspected there were other dark sorcerers still in the city too. They had to be—still active and still posing a danger to them.

  “And what?”

  ““According to one of the sources I have, Eva might belong to the Ashara. They might be magical creatures. I don’t know if this other Ashara mimic is after sorcerers or dark sorcerers.”

  He frowned. “I’ve heard that name before. I know why.” He cocked his head to the side and rubbed at one of his temples for a moment. “I’ll be right back.”

  He stepped out of the library, closing the door behind him.

  While he was gone, Jayna began to sort through books, reaching for the one with the inventory of the enchantments and slipping it into her pocket. Maybe that would be useful in the future. She didn’t find anything else. Most of these really were about Nelar, trade routes, and other things that were more political in nature; they weren’t the sort of books she’d expected the Sorcerers’ Society to have: ones tied to lessons and power. None of these were spellbooks.