Then Skimif stood upright and looked over his shoulder in the direction where Uron had been standing. “Looks like he's gone.”
Darek sat upright, again ignoring his broken arm so he could focus on what the graveyard looked like now that the energy pillars were no longer destroying the world.
The last of the mist was totally gone now, likely evaporated by the flames and heat. Without the mist obscuring the graveyard, Darek saw that the spot where Uron had been standing was a large, deep crater that looked like something you'd find on the Volcanic Isles rather than on a graveyard in the Great Berg. The air smelled like flame and ash, an awful smell that made Darek's stomach churn. There was not even a hint of Uron's existence anywhere, like he had simply vanished—or was blasted—into nothingness.
That didn't mean Darek let his guard down, though. For all he knew, Uron was hiding somewhere and would strike as soon as he or Skimif relaxed. That seemed like the sort of thing Uron would do.
“He's not here anymore,” said Skimif.
Darek looked up at Skimif. “How did you know what I was—”
“I guessed,” said Skimif. “After all, I was once a mortal myself, so I know how you mortals tend to think.”
“But how do you know he's gone?” said Darek. “I mean, I can't sense him anywhere, but that could mean he's just hiding.”
“Unlikely,” said Skimif, shaking his head. “If Uron was still here, I'd still be fighting him. He's gone, likely slithered back into whatever hole he crawled out from in the first place.”
The pain in Darek's broken arm spiked, but he was so interested in what had happened to Uron that he managed to ignore it for the moment. “So Uron is still alive?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” said Skimif. “I intended those blasts to turn him into dust, but I think all it did was convince him that he needed to retreat for now and rethink his plans. I don't know where he is, but I'm sure he's still out there somewhere.”
Darek tried to stand, but the pain in his broken arm forced him to remain where he was. “Then we have to stop him, we have to look for him, we—”
Skimif bent over and grabbed Darek's broken arm. He squeezed it gently and Darek felt some kind of warmth pass through his arm. In a second, it no longer hurt, and when Skimif let go of it, Darek experimentally moved his arm. Though it was slightly stiff, it didn't hurt at all.
“Darek,” said Skimif in an unusually authoritative tone. “You need to rest. I know the Ghostly God's protection offered you some of his strength, but you're still mortal and you still have all of the same limitations as any other mortal.”
Darek rolled his shoulders. “I know, but—”
“I am going to have another word with the Ghostly God about recklessly putting the lives of mortals in danger like this,” said Skimif with a scowl.
“Doesn't matter,” said Darek. “I don't know if you know, but I've already pledged my life to him for ten years. And I don't intend to go back on my word, even after this.”
Skimif looked at Darek uncomprehendingly. “A mortal serving a southern god? I know Aorja served the Ghostly God, but I thought it was because she was crazy. Yet you seem perfectly sane to me.”
“I'm not so sure about that,” said Darek, as he began to realize just how reckless his offer to the Ghostly God had been. “But anyway, what caused those massive energy pillars from earlier? Did you summon them?”
“Sort of,” said Skimif. “But I had a little help.”
He pointed at the sky, causing Darek to look up to see what he was pointing at.
Hovering in the air over the crater where Uron stood was a large airship, one much bigger than the Soaring Sea had been. Two gigantic cannons hung from its underside, smoke trailing from their barrels. The airship itself was as blue as the ocean sea on a summer day, with aquarian words written on it in white paint.
Darek blinked. “Is that an airship?”
“From the Undersea Institute, yes,” said Skimif. “It's more like a warship, which doesn't make sense for a school to have, but it's a good thing they had it.”
“The Undersea Institute?” said Darek in surprise. “Is there anyone on board I would know?”
“Yorak, for one,” said Skimif, nodding. “She's piloting the ship herself, actually. She's a pretty amazing woman despite her old age.”
“But I don't understand,” said Darek, scratching the back of his head. “I thought the Undersea Institute didn't want anything to do with the Academy anymore. Why did they come here?”
“It's not because Yorak wants to apologize to the Magical Superior or anything like that,” said Skimif. “She came because I went to the Institute and told her that I might require her aid in defeating Uron. Actually, that was before I knew about Uron, but I knew that there was a powerful threat, equal to my own, just waiting to show up. So I recruited Yorak to help me prepare for it.”
“But … what was that stuff she shot from the cannons of her ship earlier?” said Darek. “That kind of power is far too much for your average mage to hold. Even Yorak couldn't control that much energy.”
“I gave them some of my own,” said Skimif. He gestured at the large cannons. “Those cannons on their ship are designed specifically to hold and fire magical energy. I had to redesign them so they could withstand my own energy—it's too much for the average mortal machine to hold—but it wasn't a problem.”
“Let me get this straight,” said Darek. “You put some of your energy into those cannons so that the Institute mages could blow Uron to bits?”
“More or less,” said Skimif. “I had called them in earlier today so they could be here by tonight, but they were supposed to be a last resort. I thought the other gods and I would be enough to take him down on my own, but when those cowards ran, I had to bring in the big guns.”
He spoke fairly neutrally about the other gods, which surprised Darek, as he would have been incredibly angry if the same had happened to him. The only indication that Skimif was displeased with the other gods was the word he used to describe them: 'cowards.' Even then, Darek didn't hear any disapproval in the god's tone. It seemed like Skimif was trying to hide his true feelings about the other gods for some reason.
That made Darek feel eerie, so in order to ignore those eerie feelings, he said, “Well, I'm glad you did. That seemed to have done the trick.”
“For now,” said Skimif. “There's no telling where or when Uron will show up again. I will have to make sure that the other gods are ready to take him down at a moment's notice.”
“We can help,” said Darek. “The other mages and I here. I bet if you asked, every one of us would do whatever we could to help you find Uron.”
Skimif shook his head. “Thank you for the offer, but I am afraid I must reject it. Uron is too dangerous for you mortals to fight or even help fight. Even the Magical Superior and Yorak are no match for him in a straight fight. This is a job for the gods and the gods alone.”
Darek knew he shouldn't argue with the God of Martir, but he was so determined to help that he felt it was justified. “But Uron has the God-killer. He can kill gods now. You saw what he did to the Avian Goddess.”
Skimif winced, like Darek had punched him in the gut. “Yes, but we're still the only ones who can deal with him. I will simply let all of the gods know to remain out of arm's reach of him and not to engage him if they find themselves alone with him.”
“Are you sure there isn't anything we can do to help?” said Darek. “I mean, we mages dedicated ourselves to the gods, after all. We are your servants and followers. There's a reason we're known as the People of the Gods, after all.”
Skimif scratched the back of his head. “I don't want any of you hurt. You mages have your own role to play in this world, and that role doesn't involve hunting down genocidal ex-scientists hellbent on shattering the foundations of this world in order to bring back theirs.”
“But—”
Skimif glared at Darek. That look alone was enough to shut up Darek, who sudden
ly realized just how angry Skimif was. He had been so caught up in coming up with objections to Skimif's orders that he had never noticed the way Skimif was scowling.
“Don't question me,” said Skimif, the gentleness in his voice gone, replaced by an authority that did not tolerate dissent. “If you truly are dedicated to the gods, you will listen to my orders, which are to stay out of the Uron situation, and not question them.”
Even with Skimif's glare and angry tone, Darek still managed to sputter, “But I—”
“Uron almost killed you back there,” said Skimif. Then he turned away. “I have to go. Uron is probably going to lay low only for a little while. I have a lot of important things to get in order so that we will be ready for when he reappears.”
Darek opened his mouth to ask what Skimif was going to do, but when he blinked, Skimif was gone, like he had never been there in the first place.
Chapter Twenty-One
By the time Darek returned to the Arcanium, he discovered that practically the entire school was present in the courtyard. Thanks to the torches that had been set up on the perimeters, he saw every single student and teacher in the school gathered together. All of them were talking loudly and, while their voices were too mixed for him to tell exactly what they were talking about, he knew they were all speculating about what happened in the graveyard that night.
Guess Durima didn't tell them to evacuate after all, Darek thought. Or maybe they somehow know that it's safe to stay here, at least for now.
No one seemed to notice Darek yet (although many of the students were looking up at the blue airship, which was heading toward the sports field to land) as he stood outside of the circle of torches that illuminated the courtyard. And he was so exhausted and worn out from the events of the night that he just wanted to sneak by and get back to his bed at the Third Dorm, although with so many students out, he doubted he would succeed, even if he had been a master of the Thief's Way. He didn't want to talk to anyone right now, not even to his friends.
Before he could figure out a good way to get past everyone without being noticed, the voice of the Magical Superior rang out: “Students and teachers of North Academy, listen to the urgent news regarding the events of the night that I have received from Skimif.”
All of the students and teachers looked toward the steps of the Arcanium. Darek also looked in that direction and saw the Magical Superior standing at the top of the steps. He was leaning on Mom for support, looking weaker than Darek had ever seen him before. He clearly needed rest and maybe a visit from Eyurna to make sure he wasn't suffering from any long term injuries, but whatever Skimif had told him was apparently important enough for him to forgo that, at least for now.
“I am glad I have your attention,” said the Magical Superior. Although his voice was made louder and clearer by magic, it mostly succeeded in emphasizing just how tired the Superior was. “While I was resting earlier, after being brought here by the katabans known as Durima, I received a vision from Skimif. I know I should be resting still, but I also know that many of you, including me, have questions about what happened in the graveyard tonight, urgent questions that demand an immediate answer.”
Darek's shoulders slumped. He wondered why this couldn't wait until morning, but he didn't say anything in order to avoid drawing attention to himself. Instead, he took advantage of the crowd's distraction to make his way around the perimeter of the circle of torchlight, his eyes on the rebuilt Third Dorm.
Yet even as he tiptoed as silently as he could, he found himself listening to the Magical Superior's speech.
“Tonight in the school graveyard, a new threat to Martir arose,” said the Magical Superior. He sounded close to fainting, he was so weak, which made the fact that he could still talk at all impressive to Darek. “A threat powerful enough to challenge the gods … a threat named Uron, the Great Snake.”
Darek paused. Where did 'the Great Snake' come from? Uron was not a snake anymore. Did Skimif make up that name or did he know something Darek didn't?
The crowd of students and teachers, meanwhile, erupted with gasps and questions, which were quickly silenced when the Magical Superior raised his hand.
“I know you have many questions about Uron, but much of his history and purpose are a mystery even to me,” said the Magical Superior. “Know only this: Uron's ultimate goal is to destroy all of Martir and replace it with the world he came from. And to do so, he is going to kill the gods.”
“Aren't a couple of gods already dead?” one of the students shouted from somewhere in the middle of the crowd. “Didn't we all feel it when they died? What happened? And are we still going to be evacuated from the school?”
The crowd began shouting more questions at the Magical Superior, questions about the status of those two gods and the exact circumstances under which they died, but then he raised his hand again and the crowd went silent again.
“I don't know all of the details behind the deaths of those two gods,” said the Magical Superior. “But I do know that there is nothing we mages can do about Uron. Skimif has given me strict orders to inform you that the gods will be handling Uron and that we are not to worry about it. And to answer your last question, no, we will not be evacuating the school tonight.”
“But how can we not worry about a being who can kill gods?” said another student. “It's not right!”
“When Skimif speaks, we listen,” said the Magical Superior. Then he sighed. “You may also be wondering about the blue airship that has landed in the sports field. I can tell you that that is another Institute airship, but for now, I order all of you to return to your dormitories and to rest until tomorrow morning. The teachers will make sure that every student returns to his or her dorm and gets some much needed rest, so don't think you can get away with staying up tonight or sneaking out.”
“But we still have so many questions!” another student shouted from the crowd. “Why are the Institute mages back when they said they weren't going to return?”
“You may ask the Institute mages whatever you like in the morning,” said the Magical Superior in a firm voice. “It has been a long, stressful night for everyone and the best cure for a long, stressful night is a long, restful sleep. To your dormitories. Now.”
With that, the Magical Superior turned and walked back into the Arcanium, Mom at his side helping him. As soon as he began heading back into the Arcanium, the teachers began herding the students back to the dormitories. The students complied as peacefully as they usually did, but Darek heard many of them whispering among each other, no doubt trading theories as to who Uron was and what really happened in the graveyard.
There will be a million rumors in the morning about what 'really' happened tonight and not one of them will involve me, Darek thought. Thankfully.
Nonetheless, Darek managed to slip into the crowd unnoticed. Coincidentally, he found himself walking next to Jiku, who was wearing his school robes over his pajamas and was walking barefoot along the stone path, perhaps because he had had no time to get his shoes on.
“Darek?” said Jiku as they walked with the crowd. “Where were you tonight? When Noharf sent out dreams to everyone summoning us to the courtyard, I saw your bed was empty. Thought maybe you had already gotten up, but why are you robes so muddy and dirty?”
Darek leaned in closer to Jiku and whispered, “I was in the graveyard when Uron attacked. Saw it all with my own eyes.”
Jiku put a hand over his mouth to stifle his gasp. “You were? You have to tell me all about it.”
Darek yawned. “Tomorrow. Tonight, I just need to rest, like the Magical Superior said.”
Thankfully, Jiku seemed to understand, because he did not argue the point.
-
The stressful events of the night before had cured Darek's insomnia; in fact, he slept so soundly that it seemed like only a minute after his head hit the pillow that he awoke with a start. Through the open window, the first rays of the rising sun were beginning to sneak in, signalin
g that the morning had already come.
Not that he wanted to get up. Although he had managed to make it back to his and Jiku's shared room last night without much trouble, right now, he was so tired that he could barely even move his body. No doubt it was the excitement and stress of the night before that had left him this way. He was surprised that he hadn't just slept through the whole day.
Then again, maybe this is the morning of the day after the next, Darek thought. Though I'd probably feel better rested than I am now if that was the case.
But he wasn't alone in his room this morning, despite how much he wanted some time to think about and consider what he had done and seen last night. Jiku was sitting on his own bed opposite Darek's, a mug of warm hyper juice in his hands. The middle-aged mage looked like he must have just gotten up himself, because even as he sipped from his mug, his eyes had bags underneath them and he seemed sluggish.
“Good morning,” said Jiku with a yawn. “I thought you were never going to wake up.”
Darek rubbed his eyes, but he didn't get up from under his soft, warm blankets. “Were you awake this whole time waiting for me to wake up?”
“More or less,” said Jiku. He leaned forward a little. “You said you'd tell me about what happened in the graveyard last night in the morning. It's the morning, so I'm waiting.”
Darek wanted to hide his face under his pillow and tell Jiku to bother him later, but Darek had a feeling that that wouldn't work. Besides, he had told Jiku that, so he decided to go ahead and do it.
So, as briefly as he could, Darek explained all of the events of the night before. It was hard because he was very tired and he didn't remember everything, but he remembered enough to deliver a faithful explanation of the events to Jiku, who sipped from his mug every now and then but otherwise didn't say much.
When Darek finished, Jiku looked so distraught and confused that Darek actually worried for his health.
The Mage's Grave: Mages of Martir Book #1 Page 26
