The Academy Journals Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 3)

by Garrett Robinson

  “Theren, can you carry us across?”

  “Are you mad? I can hardly lift you to the top of a wall.”

  “I may … I may have something, said Kalem, though his voice shook. “Theren, could you lower me to the water?”

  “No time!” said Ebon. He threw himself to the edge of the dock, grunting at the flare of pain from his bruises. The tide was high, and the water was only a pace away. “Give me your ankles!”

  Kalem crawled to the edge and over, with Ebon and Theren clinging to his legs. His robes fell down around his shoulders, so that his underclothes were exposed.

  “Not one word, from either of you,” he snapped.

  “Be silent and hurry,” said Theren. “They are getting close.” And indeed, Ebon could hear the constables’ voices carrying above the crates and barrels, moving around the stacks of cargo towards them.

  Kalem reached out his hands until they touched the water. At once, a wave of ice spread from his fingertips. Out and out it spread, until a small platform of ice stretched out for many paces in all directions, securing itself in place by wrapping around the poles of the docks.

  “All right!” he squealed. “Let me go!”

  They did, and he came down on the ice on hands and knees. He crawled forwards, spreading the ice before him a pace at a time. Ebon and Theren scrambled to climb down from the dock behind him.

  But just as Ebon had almost reached the ice, he heard a triumphant cry. Something snatched at the back of his robes. He barely twisted his neck enough to see the constable behind him, one gloved fist holding Ebon’s robes. Her sword was held high, ready to strike.

  “Let him go!” Theren’s eyes glowed, and her hand cut through the air. The woman’s head snapped back, and her grip fell away.

  Ebon crashed onto the ice. He crawled as quick as he could, just behind Theren.

  “Thank you,” he told Theren, voice shaking.

  “Better than my showing against the dean,” she said with a faint smile.

  They were halfway to the shore now. Again Ebon heard a cry behind him, but this time much farther away. He glanced back. The constable Theren had struck still lay senseless on the dock, but the other had arrived at last.

  The man ran for the dock’s edge and gave a mighty leap out onto the ice. But when he landed, it cracked beneath him, and he sank into the water with a yelp.

  Ebon froze—but then he saw the man’s head break the surface, and his limbs flailed wildly as he fought to remain afloat. At last he got hold of the ice, and there he clung, sputtering and trying to spit the seawater from his lungs.

  Ebon and his friends reached the shore and climbed the steep slope leading up to the city’s wall. They made their way north until they had reached the eastern gate again. But before they could reach it, Theren reached out and snatched Kalem’s cloak to pull him to a stop.

  “Wait. We should not go inside yet. There is still the marking to the southeast to investigate—the small boat drawn near the cave.”

  “You cannot mean to go there, too.” Kalem’s voice rose to a shout. “This is twice now we have nearly gotten ourselves killed, and twice too many. I will not do it again!”

  “But we did not get ourselves killed,” said Theren. “And now they will be searching the docks for us, while we will be on the Seat’s southern edge. We will be safer than ever before.”

  “Nothing about this is safe!” said Kalem, stamping his foot. “If you wish to go running about on more misadventures, then please yourselves. I mean to return to the Academy, now, without any delay. And if you will not come with me to sneak in, then I will march straight back to the gate and knock upon it, and I will not care if they punish me.”

  Theren’s eyes flashed, but Ebon put a hand on her arm. “Leave it, Theren. I do not think I could last much longer in any case.” The crawl across the ice had made his aches and pains worse, and he now found it difficult even to walk. “We can always return another night, when we have rested.”

  “Yes, and when Kalem has had time to find his courage again,” muttered Theren.

  Kalem folded his arms. “Call me a coward if you wish, but you know I am right. If there are guards posted where the small boat is drawn, they will be more vigilant now, not less. And Ebon looks as though he might collapse.”

  “I might, at that,” said Ebon.

  He smiled, trying to ease the tension, and reached out an arm for Theren. She slung it over her shoulder and sighed.

  “Very well,” she said. “Only something in my heart tells me the danger grows greater, not less, the longer we take to discover whatever is going on.”

  “Be that as it may, we must take a little longer yet.”

  They walked north again at Ebon’s nudge, making for the eastern gate.

  BY THE TIME EBON SAT for the midday meal with his friends, he had come to deeply regret their excursion. Now his bruises felt crippling, and his limbs hesitated before obeying his will. He sat hunched over his food, barely able to eat, while Theren and Kalem spoke animatedly about the map.

  “Mayhap the blue markings to the west were the right ones, and the red were only a decoy,” said Theren.

  “But why?” said Kalem. “What purpose for the difference? Mayhap they are both clues, and we simply do not understand what the different colors mean?”

  Theren sighed. “I think we will have little luck with guesses. We will only find more answers if we look for ourselves.”

  “You say that as if it is some simple thing,” grumbled Kalem.

  Ebon sat silent, staring at his food. His friends had not cared overmuch about the Drayden servants stealing away on the ship, but Ebon’s mind had been heavy all morning. Halab had said she was here for family business. This must have been what she meant. The family was withdrawing from its property on the Seat. He could not imagine why.

  And another thought grated at him; Halab had spent the whole day with him but had said nothing of this. Had she not imagined that he might come to the manor, visiting it after his study hours? How did she think he would feel, arriving to find it empty, or mayhap even sold to some new owner?

  It felt as though his family had abandoned him in truth. That would not be such a terrible prospect coming from Father—or at least it would be no surprise. It was different with Halab.

  A black-robed figure stopped beside the table. Ebon looked up to find Lilith looking down at him, smirking. Oren and Nella stood beside her, as always. Ebon barely managed to restrain a groan.

  “Well met, jester,” said Lilith. She looked to Kalem. “And jester’s monkey.”

  Ebon noted that she utterly ignored Theren.

  “What is it, Lilith? I have little patience for jibes today.”

  “I had heard you went and watched the High King’s armies march forth. Did any of your kin march with them? Three wizards of Yerrin are in her ranks.”

  “I do not know,” said Ebon. “If any of my family are soldiers, I have not heard of it.”

  “Of course you would not have,” said Lilith. “Not all families are as proud of their members as Yerrin. Not all families have cause to be.”

  Ebon scowled, and was surprised at himself for doing it. No matter how little love he had for his family, Lilith somehow made him wish to defend them.

  “And are your family taking you on holiday as well?” she went on.

  He blinked. The question seemed to come from nowhere. “What? Holiday? No. Why?”

  “Winter approaches. My parents are traveling to Feldemar to welcome it, and they are taking me with them. Mayhap the family Drayden is too poor to take such holidays? Or mayhap they are taking one, and have simply forgotten you.”

  Ebon’s hand clenched to a fist on the table. Theren shifted on her bench. “Leave off, Lilith,” she said.

  Lilith’s eyes flicked to Theren, but only for a moment. “Well, I must away to prepare for the voyage,” she said. “Enjoy your time trapped here in the Academy, jester. When I return, I shall be sure to regale you with tal
es of my travels.”

  She sauntered off, out of the dining hall and into the Academy. Oren went with her, while Nella remained, finding a table in a corner by herself.

  “That one is simply insufferable,” muttered Kalem.

  “Her boasting does grow tiresome,” said Ebon. “Though in truth, with all we have seen and done in the past weeks, her torment somehow rankles less.”

  “At least she has given us one piece of the puzzle,” said Kalem brightly. “I would wager that that is why your household staff were readying to leave. Your family must be taking a journey for winter, just as hers is.”

  Ebon was taken aback. “You think she was correct?”

  “Why else would they have been loading themselves upon that ship?”

  He realized that Theren had not spoken since Lilith left. Her sharp eyes roved across the dining hall, her short bob of hair swinging into her face as she looked back and forth.

  “Theren?” said Ebon. “What is it?”

  “There are no Yerrins in the dining hall. There were two missing from my class this morning, which I thought was curious.” She stopped looking about and leaned forwards. “Are there other Draydens enrolled in the Academy just now? Are they still in their classes?”

  Ebon shrugged. “Not so far as I know. It is only me. And the dean, of course.”

  Her eyes grew dark, and she looked away. Ebon knew she was thinking, as he was, of Cyrus’ attack in the training grounds. They ate the rest of their lunch in silence.

  Before sunrise the next morning, a hand slapped over Ebon’s mouth, jarring him awake.

  His eyes shot wide, and he struggled to rise from his dormitory bed. The barest grey glow drifted through the window, casting his assailant as a shadowy figure. Powerful arms dragged him from his bed, still wrapped in a blanket, and pulled him through the door in the back of the dormitory. His screams were muffled under the clutching hand, and no one heard him. He tried to fight, but his injuries kept his movements weak. The hand pinched his nose and mouth until he could hardly breathe.

  Once they reached the hallway, he was pressed roughly against the stone wall. There in the torchlight, he at last caught sight of his attacker’s face.

  Mako.

  Ebon froze where he stood.

  “Good morrow, little goldbag.” Mako’s voice was a dagger sheathed in silk. “My apologies for awakening you so. An urgent matter presses, and I could not wait for you to come to the library.”

  Ebon only stared at him, eyes wide with fear. His heartbeat would not stop thundering in his ears, and it sounded like the march of a giant.

  “If I remove my hand, will you promise not to scream?” said Mako. “If you do, I cannot bring you the message I came to deliver, and that would be very bad for both of us.”

  Slowly, Ebon nodded. Mako peered into his eyes for a moment. He must have seen what he wanted, for at last he removed his hand.

  “What do you want?” said Ebon. Fear and the last groggy remnants of sleep made his voice hoarse and raw.

  “I might ask you the same, goldbag. You must want something—or else you would not have returned to the inn with your friends after I warned you not to. And you certainly would not have gone to the docks the night before last. That was foolish indeed.”

  Ebon’s knees went weak. He would have fallen to the floor if Mako’s strong arms were not still pressing him to the wall. All his misdeeds were known. Surely Mako would bring this to his father, and then Ebon would be sent home. Or worse, Mako might tell the dean. Then Cyrus might seek to finish what he had begun in the training grounds and leave Ebon’s cooling corpse in some dark gutter.

  Mako chuckled. It grated from his throat like a panther’s growl. “Do not look so frightened. Whether you choose to believe it or not, I am actually somewhat fond of you. I warn you that I know these things not because I mean to tell our family, but so that you know you have been careless at a time when you should be more careful than ever.”

  “You speak in riddles,” said Ebon, trying to sound brave. “Say what you have come to say, and then leave me be.”

  “Spoken like a true little lord. As, indeed, I hope you shall be one day. But that will never happen unless you heed these words: leave the High King’s Seat at once.”

  Ebon balked. “What? Why?”

  “You must trust me. I have learned things, things I should have known long since. Waste no time. Bring your friends with you, if you must. But make for the nearest boat you can find, or crawl upon the ice like you did at the docks. Only leave this island behind you, or face your death.”

  “Without knowing why? I am not your puppet, Mako.”

  “I could issue it as a command, if you wish.”

  Ebon remembered Halab’s words. “And would that command come from my father, or from you?”

  Mako only grinned. His teeth flashed red in the torchlight, as though they were drenched in blood. Ebon quailed, but forced himself to remain steady as he gave a grim smile.

  “You say nothing because there is no strength behind your words. I may be forced to play into my father’s schemes, but not yours.”

  “No strength, you say? I know what you have been up to in the dead of night, Ebon. I could reveal it all to your father, or even to dear Halab. What would you do if she withdrew her support? Do you really think you could remain at the Academy? Yet I have chosen to tell you first. Why would that be, unless I had some liking for you?”

  “I can think of many reasons.”

  “Yet you do not voice them. Trust me in this. Leave the Seat.”

  Ebon only glared. Mako met his gaze for a moment, and Ebon thought he saw earnestness in the bodyguard’s eyes. But then the man’s lips twisted in a familiar smirk, predatory once again. He drew back and vanished around the corner. Ebon watched him go, shaking.

  THE DAY BEFORE, EBON’S INJURIES had kept him from dressing fast enough to eat in the morning. Now he rushed to don his robes despite the pain and hobbled down the stairs as fast as his legs would carry him. Because Mako had startled him awake so early, he arrived at the dining hall before all but the very first students. There he waited, pacing, until Kalem arrived at last.

  “Kalem!” he said, gripping the boy by his robes. “We must find Theren. Something is happening.”

  “What do you mean?” said Kalem, eyes wide.

  “I do not know exactly. But we must find her.”

  “We should wait outside her dormitory.”

  Ebon nodded, and they set off through the Academy. His pain spiked with every step, but Ebon forced himself to move on. They climbed the stairs to Theren’s room and waited outside her door. Students emerged and gave them curious looks before brushing past. Finally Theren appeared, still rubbing sleep from her eyes.

  “Theren, come quickly,” said Ebon. “I must tell you and Kalem something.”

  Her brow furrowed. Ebon took her sleeve and dragged her down the hallway until they found a secluded corner where they would not be disturbed.

  “An agent of my family came to me this morning. He warned me to leave the Seat at once.”

  “What? Why?” said Kalem.

  “He would not say. But he said it was a warning.”

  Theren’s face went Elf-white.

  “I do not understand,” said Kalem. “Does some danger await you within the walls? Mayhap he knows of some plot by the dean to attack again.”

  “He said I could bring you with me, if I wished,” said Ebon. “Why would he say that, unless—”

  “I know why,” said Theren. “The Seat is going to be attacked.”

  Ebon and Kalem stared at her. The hallway fell to silence.

  “What?” said Ebon at last.

  “Think, Ebon. Lilith and the other Yerrins have fled. I spent the rest of yesterday searching around. Many children of other wealthy families have fled as well. Mayhap they know what is coming, or mayhap they only heard some dark rumor of a coming storm. But they have taken their children and fled. Your manor staff have be
en removed. You thought it was by your aunt, but it could just as easily have been your father. Something is coming, something powerful enough to endanger every soul upon the Seat.”

  Ebon shook his head quickly. “No. That would be treason of the highest order. My father may have concocted some dark scheme, but that is a step too far, even for him.”

  “How else do you explain it?” said Theren. “Why else would they be fleeing this place like rats from a ship?”

  “But my parents have not sent for me,” said Kalem, frowning.

  “Forgive me,” said Theren. “But you have told us already that your family’s star has fallen. And they are from Hedgemond, an outland kingdom. I doubt they would have heard any rumor of whatever doom is coming.”

  “Think, Theren,” said Ebon. “If what you say is true, then I am part of it. I did my father’s bidding, and if his scheme was to attack the Seat, then I played a role.”

  “You did not know what you were doing.”

  “I did not lend aid to an attack on the Seat,” Ebon snapped. He realized his voice had grown far too loud, and he went on in an urgent whisper. “Others may look upon my family with fear, but not even the rumors of our deeds are that black. Besides, if they were part of this plot, then why would my father leave me here?”

  But before the words left his lips, he knew the answer. And Theren and Kalem looked at him with such sadness in their eyes that he felt tears welling up in his own.

  “No!” he cried, no longer caring who might hear. He thought he might be sick. “No, you are wrong. My father lost one son already. He would not sacrifice the only other one he had.”

  Except that he cared, truly cared, when Momen died, he thought. Do I think he would feel the same way about me?

  “It is the only thing that makes sense,” Theren said quietly. “What better way to prove your father’s innocence than the fact that his own son died in the attack? It is a perfect deception.”

  “If it were my family’s plot, Mako would have not have found out at the last moment, as he told me. He would have known from the first.” Ebon felt desperate now.