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

by Saffron Bryant

  “I had no idea,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, well, you better have a damn good explanation ready by the time sundown comes around. I’ve seen them hang people for less.”

  “Hang?”

  “By their toes, not their necks,” Avarie said, eyes glazed as she stared at the floor. “They left them up there for a whole day until their faces looked like purple eggplants. They did let them down eventually, but they were expelled and banned from setting foot anywhere near here again.”

  “No.” Ash’s hands twisted in the bedsheets at his side. He couldn’t get thrown out, he just couldn’t. He needed to find the Faceless Monks, and find a way to destroy them. He’d never manage that if he were thrown out of the Institute.

  “Here.” Avarie held out a glass bottle half-filled with amber liquid.

  “I don’t need a drink,” he said. “I need a miracle.”

  Avarie wiggled the bottle so the liquid sloshed against the clear sides. “It’s not alcohol; it’ll just take the nerves off. Trust me, I drank half of it on the way over here, otherwise I would have killed you by now.”

  Ash took it and sipped. It burned like alcohol but instead of a light-headed buzz, he found his rabid panic easing, like a blanket thrown over a raging fire. “Thanks.”

  “How’d you learn it, really?”

  Ash had another drink and calm logic settled over him. “This stuff is amazing. What is it?”

  “It’s called Billow Draught. We give it to patients if they’re having panic attacks or whatever. Only a couple of people know the recipe, but if you ask me, it’s definitely got Chromium in it.”

  “Chromium?” Ash’s heart beat faster as memories of Falconwall surged back.

  “If you ever get into advanced magic, they’ll cover it. It’s like a channeling enhancer.”

  He bit his tongue and decided against telling Avarie about his part in a heist on a shipment of Chromium. Tup had said she thought the magician’s used it… Ash put that morsel of information to the back of his mind where he’d examine it later. The library was bound to have information on it if it was used in regular medicines.

  “Now answer the question,” Avarie said. “Who taught you?”

  “I told you, I learned it from the book.”

  “No way. You can’t learn that kind of transference from a book… you need demonstrations, mind exercises, months of training.”

  Ash shrugged and let his gaze slide away from hers. “I didn’t.”

  Avarie leaned forward, face stern. “Do you swear?”

  “I found a copy of the advanced book in the library. After seeing the healing energy you used the day of the workshop accident… I thought I’d give it a go. That’s why I’ve spent so much time in the library lately.” Ash figured it was mostly true; true enough anyway.

  “Loren did complain about that.”

  “That’s what I was doing.” Ash took a final drink from Avarie’s bottle and handed it back.

  “I’ve never heard of anything like it,” Avarie said. “I knew you were good… but this…”

  “Just practice,” Ash said.

  “The Council won’t believe you.”

  “They have to. It’s the truth.”

  Avarie slumped back in her chair and drank down the last of the Billow Draught. “Unbelievable. I had the next prodigy changing dirty bandages.”

  “I’m not that good…”

  “What other tricks have you got up your sleeve?”

  Ash grimaced. “That’s all I had. It took me ages to work out how to convert to healing energy. I’d only made it work once before today.”

  Avarie’s eyes flew to his arm. “That’s why you needed all those plasters.”

  Ash twisted his arm ruefully to show the back of his forearm where thin cuts at various stages of healing striped his arm. “I guess I got lucky today.”

  “You have no idea. So much can go wrong with healing energy… I just… oh, it’s probably lucky you didn’t know or you might have lost focus and killed yourself or someone else.”

  “That’s me,” Ash said. “Lucky.”

  Ash got down from the bed and went to the door. “I guess I have a defense to prepare for.” He met Avarie’s eyes. “Don’t worry; I’ll make sure they know you had nothing to do with it.”

  53

  Ash hovered outside the council chambers, palms sweaty. The building towered over him, dark and menacing. He didn’t know how he’d never noticed it before. It sat square in the middle of the Institute, giving the distinct impression that everything else sprouted from it. The building was made of polished black stones that glimmered in the dying evening light. Sharp towers with black windows rose like jagged points around a central circular building. A narrow doorway, blocked by a solid door made of a timber so dark it blended with the stones, led inside.

  The empty street surrounding the council building felt like a vast ocean separating Ash from everyone else. Even the buildings on the other side seemed to draw away from him, leaving him alone to face whatever the Council had in store for him. He’d spent the whole afternoon, with the help of the Billow Draught, trying to devise a way out, an explanation. He’d come up blank.

  Loren hadn’t returned to the dorm all afternoon. Ash suspected he was hiding in the workshop. Ash tried not to take it too personally, although if there was anything he would have liked that afternoon it was some kind of ally. He’d left Rae’s heated stone back in his dorm room, tucked under his pillow. He didn’t want the Council finding it and asking questions that he couldn’t answer.

  The narrow door squealed as it swung open, revealing a gaping hallway lit by glowing orange orbs. A middle-aged man with a stern face gestured to Ash to enter. “They’re waiting for you.”

  Ash crept through the open doorway and a chill slithered down his spine. His footsteps echoed off the stone and his shadow danced across the walls, seeming out of time with his own solemn steps. The man who’d let him in led him in a brisk walk up the hallway and to a second door made of darkened timber. The man paused, knocked twice, and at a muffled command, he pushed the door open, waving Ash to go through.

  Ash took a deep breath and entered the circular chamber. A spiraling pattern of black and white tiles led him to the center where he looked up at five towering desks. Glowering faces stared down at him with different levels of contempt and rage. Above them, the ceiling sparkled with stars, visible through a roof that must have been painstakingly made with curved glass.

  Solemn portraits looked down from the rounded walls, their golden frames sparkling against the black stones.

  “Ash, you were called here to answer for your crimes.”

  Ash didn’t recognize the speaker, an elderly man with a short, gray beard. To the man’s right sat Professor Thimble and Professor Pulmen. Both of their faces glowed red and they glared at Ash as if he were a small toad that had dared to jump into view.

  “You know Professors Pulmen and Thimble,” the speaker said, as if reading Ash’s mind. “I am Professor Bracken. This is Professor Dogless, and I believe you’ve already met Professor Dapod.”

  Ash’s eyes flew to the left most bench where Dapod looked down at him with a smug expression. The man beside Dapod stood out in that he appeared to be taking no notice of the proceedings at all, but instead stared up at the starry ceiling with an expression of extreme boredom.

  “I should warn you,” Professor Bracken said. “That anything you say or hear in this room is confidential. I hope you understand the seriousness of your situation.”

  Ash bowed his head. “Yes, sir.”

  “I assume you know that this is not the first time your name has come up in this Council.”

  Ash nodded.

  “For the purposes of the record, several weeks ago Professor Dapod urged for your expulsion due to disturbing his class and asking inappropriate questions.”

  “About the Faceless Monks,” Ash said.

  Bracken cleared his throat. “Yes.
Today you are summoned because you performed reckless channeling that endangered not just yourself, but your professor and all of your fellow classmates. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  Ash straightened and took a deep breath. “No one was hurt, and I never meant to hurt anyone.”

  “Professor Thimble has told me she made it very clear to you that you could not learn advanced channeling until you’d mastered the basics.”

  “I have mastered them!” Ash’s familiar companion, rage, broke free of its constraints. “That was the whole point!”

  “Mastered?!” Thimble exploded, leaning forward on her desk so that her face loomed above him. “Mastered?! What you did today wasn’t mastery! It was like giving a toddler fireworks and a lit candle. You can guarantee that eventually something’s going to explode but that doesn’t mean the child knew what it was doing!”

  Ash gaped. Thimble was usually so soft spoken that the sudden outburst ground his thoughts to a halt. More than that, a small part of him had to ask if she was right. Was he nothing more than a toddler with access to fire?

  “Thank you, Professor Thimble,” Bracken said, making a note on a piece of parchment. His desk was too high up for Ash to make out what he’d written.

  “He’s nothing but trouble! You didn’t listen to me before, but maybe you’ll listen now,” Dapod said. “He needs to be removed.”

  Bracken turned his grave face to Ash. “First, we must get to the bottom of what exactly has happened. Then we’ll decide on punishment.”

  Ash swallowed. Based on Bracken’s expression, he didn’t want to know what kind of punishment might be in store. He thought about Avarie’s story of the people hung up by their toes… but even that couldn’t compare to the thought of being expelled.

  “Professor Pulmen,” Bracken said. “Ash works in the hospital, correct?”

  “Yes,” Pulmen said, voice tight. “It was a condition of me sponsoring his late enrollment. A mistake I’m seriously regretting.”

  “What made you agree to sponsor him?” Bracken said.

  “He had a lot of knowledge. He knew what he was doing in a hospital. I thought he’d help people. I was wrong.”

  Bracken nodded, making another note on his page before turning to Ash. “How did you come by medical knowledge?”

  Ash fidgeted. “A book. I like to read.”

  “Reading is one thing,” Bracken said, lifting a second piece of paper and running his eyes over the scribbled text. “But from this report, I understand that you saved a man’s life by stitching him closed.”

  “I… uh… spent some time in Falconwall as a healer.”

  Bracken raised an eyebrow. “You’re a little young to be a healer, aren’t you?”

  “I had to make money somehow.”

  “And was it just you, in Falconwall?”

  “Yes.” Ash kept his expression stony, he couldn’t let on about Rae, everything depended on it.

  Bracken turned back to Pulmen. “Did you teach Ash to channel healing energy?”

  “Absolutely not,” Pulmen said.

  “Did one of your students or healers?”

  Pulmen paused. “I thought his mentor may have lost her senses… but I questioned her most of the afternoon and I don’t believe she did.”

  “We’ll trust your judgment.” Bracken turned to Ash. “Who taught you? Did you pay an older student?”

  Ash lifted his chin. “No one taught me. I got it from the advanced channeling textbook.”

  “This is ridiculous!” Professor Dapod said. “You’ve just trapped yourself in your own lie, boy.”

  Ash met his gaze face-on. “I got it from a book.”

  Bracken sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Professor Thimble, is it possible for a student to learn to channel healing energy from a book?”

  Some of the rage left Thimble’s face and she looked very worried. “No one has managed that since Professor Yarrow studied here.”

  A hush fell over the Councilors and they stiffened in their seats.

  “His circumstances are unusual…” Bracken said into the silence. “Is it possible the same thing…?”

  Thimble bit her lip and her hands trembled. “He does have an innate skill.”

  Ash was tired of their double speak; if they were going to throw him out he wished they’d get on with it. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t be stupid,” Professor Dapod said. “He’s just a jumped up boy who happens to be an exceptional liar.”

  “Where were you born?” Bracken said.

  “Wichden,” Ash said.

  “An only child?”

  “Obviously.” Ash’s heart fluttered.

  “Maybe his parents never told him?” Bracken said.

  “It’s one explanation,” Thimble said.

  “And a ridiculous one,” Dapod said. “He’s a liar and he should be expelled. Let’s get it over with.”

  “He asked you about the Faceless Monks,” Bracken said, turning on Dapod.

  Dapod’s throat bobbed. “A coincidence.”

  “Why did you ask about the Monks?” Thimble said, peering down at Ash.

  He fidgeted. He hadn’t counted on the conversation taking this turn and didn’t have a good explanation. He had a feeling the Council suspected what he’d been trying so hard to hide; he was a twin. But then they would have killed him straight away. What did it mean that he was still breathing?

  “I-I saw them in Falconwall,” he stuttered. “They came to Wichden a couple of times.”

  “So?” Thimble said. “The Faceless are everywhere.”

  “They were scary. I wanted to know where they came from.”

  None of the Councilors looked convinced.

  “Can we please get to the point of this farce?” Dapod said. “Expulsion.”

  Bracken sighed. “We may not ever get to the root of that particular matter so I motion that it doesn’t leave this room. As for sentencing…”

  “But if he is… the power he could have. The damage he could do…” Pulmen said.

  “Or the good,” Thimble replied. “Aren’t you always saying you don’t have enough students who can channel healing energy? And he says he managed to learn from a book! Imagine what he could do with proper training.”

  “You’ve changed your tune,” Pulmen said.

  Thimble shrugged. “He needs to be punished. But if he’s telling the truth, then it would be a crime to expel him.”

  Dapod’s face turned crimson. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Unrestrained channeling against a direct order has only one punishment!”

  Bracken held up his hand for silence. “You’ll get your turn Dapod, each of us will put forward the punishment we think is appropriate. I, for one, agree with Thimble; he’s too powerful an asset to get rid of. However, he does need to be punished. Therefore I recommend fifty hours of house calls for the hospital. Thimble?”

  “One hundred hours,” Thimble said.

  “Expulsion,” Pulmen said.

  “Expulsion and the severing of three fingers,” Dapod said.

  “Dapod,” Thimble said. “That’s a barbaric practice we haven’t done in centuries.”

  Dapod glared back at her. “Three fingers.”

  “Professor Dogless?” Bracken said.

  Dogless brought his gaze back down from the ceiling and blinked. “Hmm?”

  Bracken sighed. “What is your recommended punishment?”

  Dogless looked Ash up and down.

  Ash met his eyes, silently pleading for leniency. How could his fate, and Rae’s, come down to some old man who hadn’t even been listening? Ash’s mind scrambled for back-up plans. If he got expelled, he’d just find copies of all the magic books and learn on his own; he’d done it before. As for the Faceless Monks…

  “Cleaning out Yarrow’s tower,” Dogless said.

  “Excuse me?” Bracken said, although his voice made it sound as if he’d dealt with Dogless’ eccentricities many times before.


  “If the two are… similar,” Dogless said. “Then shouldn’t they spend time together?” He went back to staring at the ceiling.

  Ash raised an eyebrow; Dogless had been listening after all.

  “That’s two for expulsion and three against,” Bracken said. “It’s denied.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” Dapod yelled. “He’s a danger! He needs to be brought under control.”

  “It’s final,” Bracken said. “But given the severity of his crime, his punishment will be one hundred hours of home calls, and cleaning the tower.”

  Ash slumped, relief turning his legs into jelly.

  Bracken straightened his papers. “That settles—”

  “No,” Pulmen said. “I withdraw my sponsorship. I want him gone.”

  Bracken faltered. Thimble stared at Pulmen, open mouthed, while Dapod’s smug smile returned.

  “But Pulmen…” Thimble said.

  “It’s my sponsorship and I choose to withdraw. I agree with Dapod; he’s a danger. Even if he is like Yarrow, that doesn’t make him any less dangerous. He needs to be gone.”

  Bracken cleared his throat and turned back to Ash. “Without sponsorship, I’m afraid I have no choice but—”

  “I’ll sponsor him,” Thimble said. “If that’s what it takes. Throwing him out without proper training is exactly what would make him dangerous. If we teach him control then he’s no different than any of us.”

  Bracken relaxed. “Very well, Ash’s sponsorship will be transferred to Thimble. Is the business concluded?”

  Pulmen shot up from his chair, his face stormy. He glared down at Professor Thimble. “Let it be on your head.”

  He stormed out through the rear door, Dapod close on his heels.

  “You’re dismissed,” Bracken said to Ash. “You’ll be given details of your punishment later this week.”

  “You will be in class on time tomorrow,” Thimble said. “And you will never try advanced channeling again until I say you’ve mastered the basics.”