Master and Apprentice

by Bateman, Sonya

  “He’s a monk. You don’t curse around people of the cloth. Or djinn. Whatever.”

  His curiosity shifted to rage. “Are you mad? This is no monk!” He drove a foot into the Morai’s ribs hard enough to flip him over.

  “Ian!” I stepped between them before I could consider the consequences. “Stop it. He saved my ass. Probably yours too. The least you could do is hear him out.”

  “I will not entertain the couched falsehoods of a Morai.” His eyes practically flashed fire. “If you do not plan to assist me, then get out of my way. I will destroy him myself.”

  The next words out of my mouth were the dumbest I’d ever uttered in my life. “I’m not going to let you do that.”

  “You—” Ian froze in place. I imagined that Caesar wore a similar expression when the knife went into his back. “Why?”

  “Because he’s defenseless. Let’s start there. You just kicked a guy who can’t move. That’s like punching a quadriplegic.” The shock of what he’d done was finally fading enough to let me think. I knew Ian would drag himself over broken glass with two busted legs if it meant he could kill just one more of them, and that was fine when every last one was a bloodthirsty murderer. But his obsession had blinded him to the fact that this guy wasn’t. The monk hadn’t even tried to defend himself.

  Ian stared at me like I was speaking Klingon. “He is Morai.”

  “Yeah? And I’m Italian. I think. Does that mean I eat a ton of pasta and have at least one relative named Luigi?”

  “I fail to see how this pertains to the Morai.”

  “Never mind. Bad analogy for a djinn.” Behind me, the monk groaned and stirred. The spell was wearing off. If I couldn’t make Ian understand in the next few seconds, he was going to do something I’d regret. “Look. You’ve spent four hundred years hunting these guys down, and you haven’t even considered that they might not all be evil freak shows.” My lip curled in disgust. “We had a human like that once. His name was Hitler.”

  Ian reeled like I’d slapped him. After a beat, a hint of anger resurfaced. “I am nothing like your Hitler. The Morai slaughtered my clan. They must be destroyed.”

  “Gahiji-an,” the monk gasped. He pushed himself up and stood slowly, but made no move to attack, or even cast a spell. “If you won’t show me mercy, at least consider my brothers and let us take this conflict out of their sight. They won’t understand. They’re innocent.”

  “As you are not, Morai.” Ian’s burning gaze fell on me. “Stand aside. Now.”

  “No.” At least part of me hung back and watched in amazement while the rest of me practically begged him to hit me with a painful curse. Or a fist. “You’re not doing this, Ian. The way it stands now, you can’t kill him, and he can’t kill you. Or me.” I hope. “There’s no reason we can’t listen to what he has to say.”

  “If you expect me to give audience to this fork-tongued mockery of a—” Ian cut himself off with an audible click of his jaw. He closed his eyes, drew in a breath, and let it out slowly. “Very well. Let the snake speak, if you must. I will not interfere.”

  I didn’t trust his sudden change of heart. Getting Ian to consider a new opinion was like suggesting that the pope toss the mitre and wear a baseball cap in public. “Why am I not buying this?” I said. “You’re gonna do something stupid. I know you are.”

  “Do you wish my cooperation or not?”

  I glanced back at the monk, who stood there like someone had stuffed a ticking bomb up his ass. “Yeah, I do. Thanks.”

  “Do not thank me, thief. Your ridiculous notions of innocence may lead to your death.” He narrowed his eyes at the Morai. “Were I you, I would watch these so-called monks for signs of weapons.”

  “Please.” The monk moved forward. His features contorted for an instant. “Come inside. We can talk in my study, and then …” He seemed to shrink a few inches. “Well, I suppose we’ll see what happens next.”

  I stepped aside to let him lead. Hopefully, what happened next wouldn’t involve pain—because if the Morai wasn’t planning to double-cross anyone here, Ian probably was. And I’d have to get myself brutally savaged trying to stop him.

  Chapter 6

  Entering the monk’s study was like stepping back in time a few hundred years. From the aged wooden shelves that held scrolls and leather-bound books with crackled pages, to the wall-mounted candelabra coated with years of wax drippings and the heavy velvet drapes drawn back from the windows, the room screamed Why yes, I was alive during the plague, thank you very much. A musty smell, not unpleasant, saturated the air and drove home the authenticity.

  Two things refused to conform to the seventeenth-century-monk mold. The first was the oversize framed mirror on the right-hand wall, mounted a few inches off the floor. Last I checked, monks weren’t into vanity. Djinn, on the other hand, used mirrors for transportation—and communication. Basically magic-powered webcams. I had to wonder if he was keeping in touch with anyone, since there shouldn’t have been any other reason to have it in here.

  And the second was the laptop computer on the surface of a carved wooden table by the window. Interesting. A technology-friendly monk.

  After we filed in, the Morai closed the door. He removed the glasses and put them on the table next to the laptop. “Let’s start with introductions,” he said. “I know who you both are. My name is Khalyn, but I’m known here as Brother Calvin.”

  Ian acknowledged him with a glower. I doubted he cared what his name was. To him, all the Morai were named dead meat. “All right, Calvin,” I said. “I’m all for small talk, but I think you’d better give Ian a reason not to kill you pretty quick.”

  “Yes. I suppose I should.” He closed his eyes and grimaced. One hand cradled the spot where Ian had kicked him. “I believe you broke my rib, rayan.”

  “I will break more than that, snake, if you do not explain yourself.”

  I sent Ian an exasperated look. He ignored me.

  “Well, you can just heal it later,” I said to Calvin. “Right?”

  He smiled a little, shook his head. “I don’t use my power. For anything.”

  “Lies,” Ian snarled. “You are attempting to put us at ease before you strike. It will not work. This whole place is enchanted, and you claim to not use your power?”

  “I did place a scrying barrier on these grounds. Fifty years ago, when I built the monastery.” He met Ian’s furious gaze with calm. “That was the last time I did anything that didn’t require manual effort.”

  “Why?” I said. “I mean, that seems a little extreme. Even for a monk.”

  “Because I did something that I regret. Something personal.” His tone was layered with don’t-go-there. “You have to understand. I’ve been in this realm for more than two thousand years. I was never involved in the wars, or any of the horrors my clan visited on yours. I’m a scholar.”

  My brain skipped a little on the part about two thousand years. This guy could’ve met Jesus personally. That would’ve made me consider monkhood.

  But Ian wasn’t buying it. “All the Morai were brought back to the djinn realm after the havoc you wreaked here. The Council forbade your return, until your clan was permanently banished, all of you sealed in your tethers. You must have been sent here with the others.”

  “Really, Gahiji-an. You are familiar with the Council’s corruption. Do you actually believe they were as thorough as they claimed to be?” Disgust registered in his face. “Besides, I didn’t participate in that fiasco. I never really wanted to be a god.”

  “Your word alone will not absolve you.” Ian folded his arms. “In fact, I cannot conceive of anything that would. You are wasting your time.”

  “So you would destroy me simply because I was born a Morai.” Calvin stared at him. “I’d expected no less from you, rayan. What my clan has done to yours is unforgivable. But I hoped you’d at least entertain the idea that we’re not all defined by our birthright. After all, your wife is Bahari.”

  Ian launche
d himself forward. He caught the monk by the throat and slammed him against the shelves. Books and scrolls shivered loose and tumbled down around them. “Never mention my wife, snake,” he said through his teeth. “You are not worthy to think of her.”

  “Ian, let go!” I grabbed his arm and tried to pull him away. I might as well have been dead-lifting a bus out of a ditch. “We’re listening. Remember? Being reasonable people. And djinn. Knock this crap off.”

  Calvin lifted a hand. “Understood,” he croaked.

  Ian pushed harder for an instant before he released him. He shrugged me off and treated me to a black-dagger stare. “I will listen, thief. But I assure you, I will not tolerate insults from the likes of him.”

  I failed to see anything insulting about Calvin’s comment, but I wouldn’t mention that now. I’d leave Ian to his denial of the truth in it. For the moment. “Look, there has to be some way to settle this,” I said, and added quickly, “that doesn’t involve breaking things.”

  Calvin rubbed his throat. The skin where Ian had throttled him was bright red and starting to bruise. “I’m afraid the prince is right.” He made his way to the chair in front of the table and just about collapsed in it. “If I’m guilty until proven innocent, there’s nothing to be done. I have only my word.”

  “Then you have nothing,” Ian said.

  “Wait.” I tried to banish the visions of impending explosions haunting my mind. None of them ended well for me. “How about some information? Can you tell us anything about those descendants who were just here?”

  Calvin’s brow furrowed. “The scions? I thought they were after you.”

  “They were. But we have no idea who they are, or where they came from.”

  “Yes. Convenient, is it not, that they should have found us so close to your home?” Ian spoke calmly enough, but I recognized the threat in his tone. “Enlighten us, snake. I know they are Morai. Are they your descendants?”

  “No. I’ve never seen them before today.” Calvin’s gaze flicked away for an instant. I was no lie-detection expert, but I thought he might be leaving something out of that statement. “And I was under the impression that you’re the only djinn capable of reproduction in this realm, rayan. Logically, I would assume they’re yours. How could you know they’re Morai?”

  The cold smile that wrenched Ian’s lips didn’t reach his eyes. “There were three of them.”

  “You …” Calvin went the approximate shade of soured milk. He wrapped a hand around the cross that hung from his neck and murmured a rapid string of Latin words. A catechism for the dead. When he finished, he cast a glare in Ian’s direction. “Is murder your answer for everything, or do you reserve it for special occasions—like Tuesdays?”

  The timer on my explosive visions started up again. “Hold on,” I said. “That was self-defense. They attacked us.”

  “Of course it was. And what about all the Morai you killed while they were still bound inside their tethers? I suppose that was self-defense too.”

  Something inside me shivered and tried to crawl away. I suspected it was my conscience. I’d all but convinced myself we were right to kill them—but this guy was coming after my glass walls of denial with a hammer. Why did I ever think it was acceptable to destroy defenseless living beings? I would have screamed, or puked, if I’d thought it would accomplish anything outside of drawing the attention of two furious djinn to me.

  Ian, on the other hand, wouldn’t know regret if it nailed him in the balls. “You are extraordinarily well-informed for a sequestered monk who does not use his power.” A sneer filtered through his frozen smile. “This does not bode well to convince me of your honesty.”

  Some of the flustered rage drained from Calvin’s expression. “It’s a logical conclusion,” he said. “You’ve been hunting my clan for four hundred years. You’ve boasted dozens of kills. They couldn’t have all been released—some of them must have still been bound and helpless.” He made a weary gesture. “If I thought it would convince you, I’d subject myself to a truth spell.”

  Ian snorted. “Now I am certain you are lying. There is no such spell.”

  “Ah, yes. There’s the paradox.” Calvin shook his head. “I’ve been able to modify the ham’tari—”

  “Enough, snake!” Ian blanched with fury, and I wished for something big and solid to hide behind. A mountain range would be great. “Even the Bahari have been unable to manipulate the ham’tari, and they created it. I will hear no more of your lies.”

  Bad move, Calvin. I remembered hearing about that particular spell. It had been used against Ian’s father before the Morai clan leader killed him, and not in a good way. Most curses weren’t intended to benefit the recipient.

  “Believe what you will, rayan,” Calvin said. “And do what you must. I don’t fear you as much as you’d like to think, since I know you won’t find my tether.”

  The cold smile revisited Ian’s face, and I resigned myself to running painful interference any second. “I do not require your tether to neutralize you,” he said. “I will simply remove your deceitful tongue from your mouth.”

  The exaggerated sound of a creaking door came from the laptop on the desk, followed by a pop. An instant-message chat window appeared on the screen. I couldn’t quite read what it said from across the room, but I made out the avatar the sender was using. It was a photo of a raccoon. With a pink collar.

  “Mercy,” I blurted. “Holy … cow. You’re Cal.”

  Calvin moved between me and the laptop, wearing the same I’ll-castrate-you expression Ian used whenever anyone mentioned Akila. “How do you know her?” he demanded. “If anything’s happened to her …”

  “Gifter of wards,” Ian said with a sneer. “Tell me, Khalyn.

  If you know nothing of these scions, what do you believe your Mercy needs protection from?”

  Crud. He did have a point.

  A bright and tingling ribbon of sensation wormed through my gut, raising gooseflesh and the hairs on the back of my neck. It took me a few seconds to realize it wasn’t my nerves. It was magic. “Ian,” I stage-whispered. “Does something feel different to you?”

  Calvin reacted first. His eyes widened, and he snatched for his glasses and shot to his feet. “My wards,” he said. “Someone’s taken apart the spells. Only—” His entire body shuddered. “You have to leave this place. Now. Use the mirror, but don’t travel to any place you want to stay undiscovered. Once you’ve arrived wherever you’re going, leave immediately.”

  “What’s going on?” I looked to Ian for an explanation.

  “There is another djinn approaching. And not alone.” A strange look shadowed his features—part rage, part resignation, and something else I couldn’t identify. “Khalyn is correct. We must leave. We are too weak to face them.”

  Calvin made his way to the door. “Go quickly. I can’t hold them off for long.” With that, he slipped from the room and closed us in.

  “Jesus Christ.” I let out the breath I’d been holding. “I hope you know where we’re supposed to be going, because I didn’t follow any of that.”

  “Yes.” Ian shook himself and approached the mirror, already drawing blood from a finger with his teeth. “We will return to the staging point, and travel on foot from there. We cannot go directly home. They may be able to trace the spell.”

  I decided to save my questions for later. The tingling ribbon had spread and invaded my limbs. Somehow I understood that whatever was out there, it was powerful. And extremely angry. “Hurry up,” I said.

  Ian had already opened the bridge. The mirror no longer reflected the study. Now it showed a shadow-drenched standard hotel bathroom, as viewed from above the sink. “Go,” he told me. “I will follow you directly.”

  “You’d better.” The brief idea that he might stay behind and try to take on the new arrivals left as soon as it came. Even Ian wasn’t that stupid.

  Or was he?

  Before I could reconsider, my feet carried me through the mirro
r, and I emerged shivering in the hotel room.

  I clambered down from the sink and felt for the light switch. By the time I flipped it on, the mirror had lost its reflection and Ian climbed through. I allowed myself a moment of relief before I realized he looked worse than I felt. The bridges shouldn’t have taken quite so much out of him. That probably meant he’d cast an extra spell.

  “What did you do?”

  He perched on the edge of the sink, slumped in place. “A temporary ward,” he said. “It should keep them from detecting us for a short while. I have not harmed the—Khalyn.”

  His grudging use of the name said more than his words. “Does that mean you’re not going to destroy this guy?”

  “We must keep moving.” He didn’t look at me while he slid to the floor and took a few unsteady steps. “The spell will not last long.”

  “You didn’t answer me.”

  “No.”

  When he didn’t elaborate, I said, “No you didn’t answer, or no you’re not going to kill him?”

  “Blast it, thief ! We have no time for this discussion.” He pushed past me and into the main room, weaving like he’d just mainlined a bottle of liquor, and fell on his knees beside one of the beds. “Collect whatever you need, and give me a moment to recover.”

  I didn’t like the dodgeball game he was playing. “Come on, man. Don’t tell me you still don’t trust him. He saved our lives twice.”

  Ian closed his eyes. “I am aware of this. Now move, unless you wish his efforts to have been in vain.”

  “Fine.” I’d take it up with him later. I grabbed the bag I’d brought and considered changing, since I was filthy with dirt, twigs, dried blood, and God knew what else from our romp through the woods. But apparently we were in a hurry. I went back to the bathroom, washed as much of the crud from my face as I could, and finger-combed water through my hair.

  “Donatti! We cannot wait any longer,” Ian called. “We must leave.”