Shadow of a Slave (The Blood Mage Chronicles Book 1)

by Saffron Bryant

  Ash frowned and moved closer to read Braydon’s unmistakable handwriting.

  Broken. Do Not Use Unless Fixed.

  Ash rolled his eyes and tugged the parchment free. He used a nearby match to light the furnace and drew on the energy. After practicing all morning, conversion to kinetic energy came almost as easily as light. He pushed the brown strings toward the device and the wheel spun, whirring the fan to ever faster speeds until a gale buffeted Ash’s hair about his head. He frowned and tried to slow the wheel, but if anything it spun faster. He sighed and let his hands fall to his sides.

  Frustration bubbled like acid in his stomach. No matter how hard he tried, fine control continued to elude him. His angry eyes fell on Braydon’s parchment and he snatched it up. He grabbed a pen from Thimble’s desk and edited Braydon’s note.

  Not broken. Do Not Use Unless Fixed. Competent.

  He wedged the note under the bottom of the device and stormed out of the room. Despite lacking fine control, he’d nearly mastered all of the basic channeling methods listed in Thimble’s textbook. She’d said herself that he could only move to the advanced class if he mastered all of them. So that’s exactly what he intended to do.

  He made the familiar journey to the library and his own private corner. The stacks of discarded books towered as high as his chest, all of them useless. He slumped down onto his cushions and ran over the basic magic book in his mind. Heat channeling; done. Heat to light; done. Heat to kinetic; done. All that remained was heat to magnetic.

  He ran over the chapter again in his mind. He didn’t truly understand magnetic energy. He’d once seen a magnet in a store window. It had attracted a pile of nails as if by magic. He had no idea how to recreate it, but he couldn’t afford to wait the weeks it would take for Thimble to give a demonstration.

  He pulled an iron coin from his pocket and placed it on the floor. This time he’d taken a glowing blue orb from beside the library door so he wouldn’t be distracted by trying to keep a light going at the same time. Next, he took out Rae’s heat stone, giving it a brief squeeze before placing it beside the coin.

  He closed his eyes and pictured the magnet he’d seen so long ago, locking the image firm in his mind. Only then did he open his eyes and reach for the energy of Rae’s heating stone. Red lines traced across his chest and collected in his other hand, which hovered above the coin. He pictured the magnetic force, sucking the coin up, nothing happened.

  Ash kept at it for hours until pain pounded through his head and his muscles shook. Hunger ached in his stomach and his eyes drooped, but he refused to give up. He needed to master the magnetic force so he could move to the advanced class, maybe then he’d be able to save Rae. Thoughts of his sister gave him the strength to keep going and he focused with new strength.

  He pushed the collected energy in his left hand, urging it, then like a dam breaking, a wave of gray energy shot out of his hand. The wave surrounded the dull coin and it flew up into his palm, sticking to his skin like he’d been coated in glue. He gaped, concentration breaking, and the coin clattered back to the ground.

  Ash slumped and brought his hand up in front of his face. A red circle marked his palm where the coin had smacked into it, but he felt no pain. He’d done it! He’d mastered the final method of basic channeling. He allowed his eyes to fall closed for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and trying again. This time the gray tendrils came easier and he managed to hold the coin against his palm for ten whole seconds before the force of it pressing against his flesh became too much.

  He tossed the coin farther away and tried again. It hurtled through the air into his waiting hand. He grinned, filled with a sense of power stronger than anything he’d felt since his first time channeling heat. Making glowing balls of light was one thing… but making objects hurtle across the room into his hand was liberating.

  He turned his attention to the shelves of books and focused on the advanced channeling textbook. He reached out his hand and sent a wave of magnetic energy toward the book. Nothing happened. He frowned and tried again, sending as much force as the heating stone gave him. The metal shelves rattled and several screws raced across the room, hitting his hand and dropping to the floor, but the book didn’t move.

  He let his hand fall and frowned, reviewing the basic textbook. There’d been a small footnote. He reread it in his mind. Magnetic energy only attracts certain objects; such as iron, and will do nothing for most other things.

  Ash slumped; so much for being able to toss things about the room with the power of his mind…

  He paused. Throwing things was just a form of kinetic energy. If he could turn a wheel with his mind, there was no reason he couldn’t move other things.

  He turned again to the bookshelves, but this time instead of converting heat into magnetic energy, he turned it into kinetic and reached for the book. It shuddered, shook, and then hurtled free. It came at his face with such force that he had to duck out of the way.

  The textbook slammed into a towering pile of books behind Ash and sent them clattering to the floor. The noise, like an avalanche, rocked through the silent library and sent up a cloud of dust. Ash stifled a coughing fit and squinted through the swirling dust. He snatched the advanced textbook from the pile of books and grinned. It had come at him faster than he’d expected, but he’d still managed to make it fly across the room.

  Clicking footsteps made Ash look up. An orange light came toward him from the end of the row of shelves. He tucked the advanced textbook inside his shirt and shot to his feet, moving as fast as he could to return some of the books to their rightful shelves.

  “What’s going on here?” The wizened librarian who usually sat at the entrance peered at Ash from behind his thin glasses. “Why are all these books on the floor?”

  “Sorry, sir,” Ash said, setting armfuls of books back on the shelves. “I couldn’t find what I was looking for.”

  “Do you know how valuable some of these books are?” The librarian picked up a molded book in both hands as if he held a delicate flower.

  “Sorry, sir, it was an accident. I was trying to reach a book on the top shelf…”

  “We have ladders for that!” The librarian, red-faced, placed the book back on the shelf.

  “I’m very sorry, sir.” Ash didn’t look up, didn’t trust himself to hide his glee.

  “You’ll put all of these back exactly where you found them, and don’t even think of leaving without doing it. I’ll be back to check.”

  “Of course, sir, right away, sir.”

  The librarian huffed and stalked away. His light disappeared amongst the towering book shelves.

  Ash let out a long sigh and a chuckle. He would have tried to put the books back with kinetic energy channeling but feared that he’d end up bringing the whole library down about his ears. So he settled for the old fashioned way and only once all of the books were back did he return to his cushions and pull the advanced textbook from his shirt.

  If he were going to prove himself to Professor Thimble, he had to show her that he was ready for advanced channeling. Maybe then she’d take him seriously.

  51

  Two days later, Ash sauntered into class with Loren and took his usual seat near the back. He’d spent almost every spare second practicing and knew he was ready; today Thimble would let him move to the advanced class.

  “I wish you’d tell me what you’re smiling about,” Loren said. “And where you’ve been the last few days.”

  “All in good time,” Ash said.

  “That might be fine for you, but I really need your help getting my head around this ridiculous kinetic energy.”

  “I’ll help you. Don’t worry.”

  Thimble’s hair frizzed about her head and a deep frown marked her face. She scanned the class and her eyes locked on Ash. “Ash, come here.”

  Ash’s stomach fluttered. Maybe she’d changed her mind without him even having to ask. She’d quietly tell him that he’d been accepted into t
he advanced class and he could leave. He hurried around the rows of benches and down to the middle of the room, barely keeping the grin from his face. Thimble turned so that her back was to the rest of the class and pulled a folded parchment from her pocket. Ash recognized it immediately, Braydon’s note from the kinetic channeling device.

  “Braydon has told me that he found the changes you made to his note offensive.”

  Ash’s jaw dropped. Of all the things Thimble could have said, he’d never considered that. He gaped at her, cheeks flushing, as a thousand thoughts rushed through his head.

  “Wh—what?”

  “Braydon said he found it very disrespectful.”

  Ash floundered. He glanced over Thimble’s shoulder and saw Braydon staring back at him, a smug smile on his face. The clouds of confusion parted, burned away by hot rage, and Ash’s eyes narrowed. He clenched his fist and did his best to keep his voice steady. “Braydon’s note said the machine didn’t work. He was wrong. I just thought I’d fix it so that other students wouldn’t be confused.”

  Thimble sighed and scrunched the note in her fist. Ash got the distinct impression that she wished she’d never had to bring it up. Probably Braydon pushing his weight around.

  “How can you take his side?” Ash said. “He was wrong! I shouldn’t be in trouble just because he can’t channel.”

  “I’m not taking anyone’s side.”

  Ash’s shoulders tensed and the anger burning in his chest grew. How dare that arrogant slug complain about him to Professor Thimble. If he was any kind of decent person he would have spoken to Ash directly, instead of wasting Thimble’s time. Now they both looked bad and it was all Braydon’s fault. Ash had just been making sure other students didn’t give up just because Braydon had. Heat burned Ash’s neck and he longed to leap past Thimble and thump Braydon’s face.

  “Please don’t let it happen again. You may return to your seat,” Thimble said.

  “No.” The word escaped Ash’s mouth before he could stop it, but once it was out he didn’t feel like taking it back anyway. He set his feet and tilted his chin.

  “Excuse me?” Thimble’s expression of exasperated frustration hardened.

  “No. You need to move me up to the advanced class.” Ash spoke loud enough that the whole class could hear.

  “I called you down here because you did something wrong. Not so you can skip over the rules.”

  “I’m better than the basics. Move me up.”

  “I told you last time,” Thimble said, “You’re not moving ahead until you’ve mastered all of the basic channeling techniques, just like everybody else.”

  Ash’s eyes flared. He took a single step away from Thimble and toward the glowing furnace. He thrust one hand toward it and pointed the other at the kinetic device. It whirred into action, the fan blowing a cool breeze that did nothing to lift the burning rage settled on Ash’s shoulders.

  Thimble’s lips thinned but before she could speak Ash pulled a handful of iron Drams from his pocket. He hurled them across Thimble’s desk and with barely a pause he switched from channeling kinetic to channeling magnetic energy. Gray tendrils shot out of his hand and wrapped around the coins, yanking them back to his hand. He caught them all and let them fall to the desk with dull clatters.

  Thimble’s eyes widened but she didn’t step back. “Ash—”

  He held up a finger; he could see nothing past the rage burning through him. Braydon’s face had lost its smug smile, replaced with something akin to fear.

  Ash reached into his belt and pulled out his knife. Someone gasped and the dull sounds of students pushing their chairs back scraped at Ash’s concentration, he shoved the noise away. Like a street performer, he lifted the knife above his head, as if showing it to the class, and then held out his left arm. He drew the knife along his forearm and sliced open his flesh. Blood trickled over his arm and dripped to the floor.

  Hushed conversation rose to audible protest.

  “Ash! What do you think you’re doing? Put that away this instant.”

  A sharp smile split Ash’s face. He held out his hand once again for the fire and heat suffused his body. Power, and the need for revenge, dulled the pain in his arm. He let heat energy pour into his hand until it burned and then held it over the bleeding wound. He narrowed his eyes, focusing on the thin cut. He’d only managed it once before, hidden in the back of the library, but somehow here, in front of all his fellow students and with a need to prove himself, he knew he couldn’t fail.

  He took a deep breath and pushed, converting the heat to a blue glow that surrounded his arm. His severed flesh sprung back together, cutting off the flow of blood, and the pain stopped. The cut disappeared and left behind only a line of drying blood across Ash’s arm, and a few drops splattered across the floor.

  Ash let his heated hand fall to his side and held out his healed forearm. “Move me up.”

  He turned and stormed up the stairs and out of the classroom without looking back. He’d left his few supplies on his desk but stopping to get them would have ruined the effect he was going for. Plus, he had no doubt that Loren would pick them up for him.

  The door slammed shut behind him, and a manic grin replaced his stormy expression. He’d done it. He’d mastered all of the basic channeling methods and healed himself. Thimble had no choice but to move him to the advanced class. He floated, as if on a cloud, all the way back to his dorm.

  52

  Ash whistled as he wrapped a bandage around Missus Baker’s bruised forearm. She’d been kicked by the family cow while trying to get milk. Based on her muttering, Ash suspected the cow would soon be turned into beef.

  “I hear you put on quite a performance this morning.”

  Ash glanced over his shoulder to see Avarie leaning against the doorframe. He finished tying the bandage. “You could say that.”

  “I need to speak with you.”

  Ash’s smile faltered. “I’m just finishing here.” He turned back to Missus Baker. “It’ll be sore for a couple of days but it’s not broken. Just rest and try not to strain it.”

  Missus Baker swung her legs out of bed and harrumphed. “Clearly you’ve never tried to run a bakery with a good-for-nothing husband.”

  She bustled past Ash and was out the door before he could reply. He shook his head at her retreating back before turning his focus back to Avarie.

  She stepped into the small room and pushed the door closed behind her. When she turned back, her pale face was drawn. “What did you do?”

  “I just showed Thimble that I’d mastered the basics of channeling. She’ll have no choice but to move me up now.”

  Avarie shook her head, her lips void of color. “You don’t understand.”

  Ash stopped neatening his pile of bandages and turned to face Avarie directly. “What’s to understand? It was just a bit of fun, and now she’ll see that I’m not made for the basic class.”

  “That’s not the point! Not only did you keep channeling when she told you to stop—”

  “She was just surprised.”

  “— but you also channeled healing energy without proper training! Do you have any idea what kind of afternoon I’ve had? Pulmen is blaming me; he thinks I taught you healing. I could lose my place at the Institute for this!”

  Ash froze and a sick feeling clawed at the bottom of his stomach. The glowing lights around the room seemed too bright and the elation he’d been riding since his morning performance fell like a brick in his chest. “What do you mean?”

  Avarie threw her hands into the air. “Do you have any idea how hard I’ve worked to be here? Now they’re questioning me because, of course, where else would you have learned to heal?”

  “I learned it from the textbook…”

  “Cut the crap. No one can learn to channel healing energy from a book.”

  “I did.”

  “No one is going to believe that! Whoever taught you, you better give them up when you’re called before the Council because ot
herwise it’s my ass on the line!”

  “Whoa!” Ash held up his hands. “Council? What are you talking about?”

  Avarie slumped into the only chair in the room; a dull green frame with a faded cushion that leaked wool from its corners. “You said you learned from the book, right?”

  Ash nodded.

  “Then you would have seen the warning, about supervision?”

  “Do not attempt this channeling unless under supervision of a senior channeler,” he recited the words from memory.

  “So you have at least read the book. Did you think the warning was just there for decoration?”

  “Well… No…”

  “Oh, so you thought, being the incredible magician that you are, that the rules didn’t apply to you?”

  Ash floundered for words. He didn’t have a good answer; he hadn’t been thinking any of those things when he’d read over the book, and yet he had ignored the warning. “But nothing bad…”

  “Lucky for you or Thimble would have killed you right there!”

  “What?” Ash’s voice scraped over his throat.

  Avarie hung her head and massaged her temples. “There’s a reason it’s hard to get a copy of the advanced textbook. There’s a reason you’re not allowed into the class until you’ve passed basic magic, and there’s a reason that warning is there.”

  “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong… I just wanted to show Thimble that I was ready.”

  “Congratulations. You did the exact opposite, and you’ve put my career in jeopardy.”

  Ash lowered himself onto the bed where Missus. Baker had lain just a short time before, although it felt like a lifetime. “What does this mean?”

  “It means that at sundown today, you have to face the Council. They’ll decide what to do with you. Pulmen sent me to tell you, seeing as he thinks I’m the one that helped you.”

  Ash swallowed, mind racing. He’d only heard rumors about the Council, the most powerful graduates of the Institute. Their words carried almost as much weight as that of the Faceless Monks. He wanted to punch himself for being so stupid; he was supposed to be keeping a low profile, to keep his head down so he could learn everything he could then go and save Rae. The last thing he needed was to be put on trial in front of the Council.