The Alchemy of Chaos: A Novel of Maradaine (Maradaine Novels)

by Marshall Ryan Maresca

  “Saints, that was nearly a whole barin! Be careful, Veranix.”

  Veranix threw up his hands. “Sorry. I think it’s time to take a break for lunch.”

  “It’s only eleven bells,” Phadre said.

  “No, no. I have an exam in three hours. So: lunch. Then some final review until two bells, and then my exam.”

  “I think Mister Calbert is correct,” Professor Alimen said. “Why don’t we all go to lunch. I know I could use it as well.”

  Veranix put his coat back on, as did the rest. “Best thing you’ve said today, Professor. And it was Gennick the Cruel.”

  Delmin shook his head. “Kellith the Cruel. Before him was Ferrick the Fourth.”

  “Right. Then Kellith the Second, and then it’s Maradaine the VII, and it’s all Maradaines from there on.” Coats, caps, and scarves on, they all made their way downstairs and out into the hot sun.

  “Someone forgot to tell summer it wasn’t quite its turn, didn’t they?” the professor said, scowling up at the sky.

  “Are you joining us in Holtman, sir?” Delmin asked.

  “I think it’s important to support the fine work done there,” the professor said.

  “Clearly you haven’t eaten there regularly,” Veranix said.

  “Oh, I do on occasion, Mister Calbert. Trust me when I say that my presence will bring the best out of the staff. Which you should appreciate as well. How is your day, Miss Nell?”

  Veranix hadn’t even spotted Kaiana, weeding the walking path. She was wearing a heavy smock and a wide straw hat. Veranix was amazed that she could handle this heat. Even though she was born in the Napolic islands, and favored her mother’s appearance, she had spent most of her life in Maradaine. She shouldn’t be any more used to this heat than any of the rest of them.

  “Well enough, Professor,” Kaiana said, rising to her feet. She raised an eyebrow at Veranix. “You keeping him in line?”

  The professor smiled. “My eternal struggle, young lady.”

  “Keep it up, sir,” she said. “Vee. History.”

  “I’m on it,” Veranix said.

  “Good.” She gave a slight tap on her nose, which the professor would probably mistake for an idle scratch. But Veranix knew it was a signal to come talk to her after his exam. He had left Bell’s journal in the carriage house with her; perhaps she had found something useful.

  “We have to get to lunch now,” Veranix said. “Busy day.”

  Kaiana smiled, wide and warm. “Don’t let me stop you.”

  She went back to work as they continued to Holtman. “Who was that?” Phadre asked.

  “That’s Kaiana,” Veranix said. “She works as a gardener here.”

  “But you know her?” he asked, taking another glance back at Kai. “You just talk to her like that?”

  “She’s my friend,” Veranix said.

  “Are you smitten, Phadre?” Delmin asked.

  “No, no, of course not,” Phadre said. “I just . . . I don’t meet a lot of girls.”

  “There’s a whole college of them here,” Veranix said. “Blazes, there’s a group of them right over there.”

  Indeed, half a dozen girls in uniform skirts were crossing the south lawn. One of them took note of them and charged across the lawn to approach them.

  “Oh my,” Professor Alimen said. “Let’s hurry along, gentlemen.”

  “Professor Alimen,” the girl called out. Veranix glanced over to her as they moved, finding her almost impossible to ignore. Since she was focused on the professor, he was expecting her scarf to be red and gray, but she wasn’t a magic student at all. Instead, she had the green and yellow of sciences.

  They were at the door to Holtman when the girl caught up to them. Now that she was close, Veranix noticed her eyes—dark and fierce, with intelligence and fire behind them.

  “Professor Alimen, I insist that I speak with you.”

  “You are not my student, miss,” Alimen said with a weary sigh. “I have told you that you should speak to Madam Henly.”

  “And I’ve told you that Madam Henly is an idiot,” the young woman said. She darted her focus at Veranix, Delmin, and Phadre. “So this is your little club today, sir?”

  Phadre and Delmin both looked dumbfounded, but Veranix wasn’t going to let her throw any knives at him unanswered. He extended his hand. “Sorry, Veranix Calbert, Third Year Magic.”

  She took his hand without hesitation. “Jiarna Kay. Fourth Year Sciences. And I need your professor to weigh in on my defense this week.”

  “And I’ve told you that is not how things are done, Miss Kay. Now you must excuse us.” He went in the door to Holtman, and Delmin and Phadre scurried in right behind him. Veranix gave an apologetic shrug to Jiarna and followed along.

  They were just entering the dining hall when her voice cut through the air again. “Don’t think you can just scurry away from me, Professor!”

  The room went dead silent. The ladies from the girls’ college were not supposed to go into Holtman or any of the men’s dormitory buildings, and for one of them to charge in and shout at a professor was probably the most shocking thing most of the boys had seen all year. And that included the stench in Almers last night.

  “Miss Kay,” the professor said with a calm voice that resonated with quiet authority. “You cannot barge in here. It is quite inappropriate.”

  “Inappropriate?” Jiarna asked, matching the professor in intensity without raising her voice. “The only inappropriate thing I see is that I won’t receive my Letters because you people refuse to help me!”

  “I have to ask,” Veranix said, words coming to his mouth before any common sense stopped him. “What do you mean by ‘you people’?” For the past seventeen years he had heard that innocuous pairing of words thrown at his Racquin family with disdain and hatred, and for the past three at his fellow magic students.

  “Mister Calbert, do not—”

  “I mean foolish professors like him!” She gave a mirthless laugh. “It’s all this place has. Can’t see a new idea if it hit them in the face.”

  A prefect had come over with two cadets, who all did their best to look intimidating. “Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to leave here.”

  “I’m going,” Jiarna said. She gave another glance at the professor, and then the slightest smirk at Veranix. “But you’ll see. I’ll make sure you all see.”

  One of the cadets had reached over, almost grabbing her by the arm, but she swatted him away as she stalked off. The other cadet snickered slightly, and was rewarded with a smack from his compatriot.

  “Well, that was bracing,” Phadre said. “Is it quite warm today? I’m rather flushed.”

  “Quite disappointing,” the professor said, shaking his head. He made some signals to one of the kitchen staff, and led them to one of the tables in the corner.

  “Forgive me, professor,” Delmin said, “but what exactly did she want? She was a science student in the girls’ school, right?”

  “Once again you demonstrate your gifts of perception, Mister Sarren.”

  They took their seats, and in moments one of the servers came over with a few loaves of bread, butter, mustard, cold sliced ham and lamb, olives, pickled onions, soft cheese, and cups of cider.

  “That never happens,” Veranix said. Let alone the quality of the food seemed far better than usual, but the servers didn’t typically deliver directly to the tables.

  “As I said, my presence would be beneficial,” Professor Alimen said. He leaned to the server. “Is there a soup?”

  “Onion and wine.”

  “Very nice, bring us each that.” The professor grinned. “Do not stand on ceremony, boys. I would imagine you’re all about to faint.”

  That was all Veranix needed to hear, and he loaded up his plate with a generous helping.

  “Yo
u dodged my question, sir,” Delmin said once he was eating.

  “Indeed I did. You are remarkably astute today. That will serve you well on your history exam, I believe.”

  Delmin frowned and took a few more bites.

  “I understand how she feels, though, sir,” Phadre said. “I mean, I’m half a step away from a blind panic right now, and I’m getting quite a bit of support on my defense from you and these two here. If her discipline is leaving her in the cold . . .”

  “Nothing of the sort, from what I understand,” Professor Alimen said testily. “One cannot be left in the cold if they insist on storming outside without a coat. Now I believe we owe it to ourselves to enjoy our meal, and perhaps give Mister Calbert a bit more brushing up on the period of the Shattered Kingdom. I’m sorry, Veranix, but I fear that is going to be your weak point in today’s exam.”

  Soup arrived and they continued to eat, while Delmin quizzed Veranix on the different lineages of the various kingdoms that had formed when Druthal broke apart in the eighth century.

  “And the kings of Acoria?” Delmin asked as he took the last piece of bread.

  “That’s a trick question. Acoria didn’t have kings. They had elected presidors.”

  “But who were they?” Delmin then sat up sharply, glancing around the room. “Vee. Again.”

  “What?” Veranix asked, but the answer was readily apparent. Smoke came roiling straight out of the tile floor: thick as molasses and an unnatural purple. This wasn’t the same as in Almers the night before, no rotten, fetid stench. It was sickly sweet, in a familiar way, and nauseating. So nauseating that several other boys proceeded to retch.

  Veranix felt his own stomach twist on him. Instinctively, he created a magic screen over his face, letting him breathe clear air. Professor Alimen must have had a similar instinct, as he was moving freely, going to some of the boys who were falling over. Veranix looked to Delmin and Phadre, who weren’t faring as well. Phadre had somehow formed a bright, shining dome over his whole head, and was stumbling toward the door. Delmin was floundering and retching. Veranix got to his friend and magicked a gust of fresh air over his face.

  “Come on, Del,” Veranix said, putting the other boy’s arm over his shoulder. Delmin managed to move with him, but was barely able to keep his feet.

  There were at least fifty more students in here, plus the kitchen staff, and he and Professor Alimen were the only ones in a condition to help them right now.

  “Professor!” Veranix shouted. “We need to clear this out!”

  Professor Alimen looked around, clearly flustered by not being able to help all the falling students. “The windows, Mister Calbert.”

  The dining hall windows were large installations along the upper half of the wall. They only let illumination into the hall, not ventilation. As far as Veranix could tell, they weren’t designed to open.

  Veranix’s first instinct was to simply blast and shatter the glass, but that might make the cure worse than the ailment. At the very least, he didn’t want the cost of the windows being put on his head.

  Three large panes, fitted into metal frames. Veranix reached out with his magic, touching the edges of the glass. Letting the energy guide him, he pulled gently and popped one frame out in a whole piece. It was heavier than he expected, and the cost of carefully floating it out of the way while maintaining his breathing filter was almost more than he could bear at the same time.

  “Now, Professor,” he said through gritted teeth.

  Professor Alimen summoned a wave of numina so strong that even Veranix could feel it, and with a powerful release, blasted all the purple smoke out the open hole and sent it shooting up high above the building.

  Veranix was wavering, about to drop when he felt his burden being lifted off of him. “I have it, Mister Calbert,” the professor was saying, his hand gently resting on Veranix’s shoulder. The glass lifted away and went back into place.

  “Well done,” Professor Alimen said in a low whisper. The undertaking had taken a toll on him as well, that was clear. He leaned in with an even lower voice. “Frankly, I would have broken the glass in your place.”

  “I didn’t want the expense,” Veranix said, his voice more hoarse and strained than he had expected.

  Cadets came rushing in, helping people to their feet and out the doors. One came over to Veranix and the professor. “Are you two all right?”

  “Well enough,” Veranix said. “Help everyone else.”

  Delmin had found his feet, looking pale. “Vee, it was the same thing.”

  What Delmin was saying got through to him. “Same as Almers last night? You felt the same thing?”

  Delmin nodded.

  “What is all this, gentlemen?” Professor Alimen asked.

  Veranix hedged for a moment, but this was clearly beyond the scope of a prank. If he and the professor hadn’t acted as quickly as they had, who knows how bad things could have been. “Tell him, Delmin.”

  Delmin started to explain the numinic flow shift he had felt before both events, while Veranix sat down and caught his breath. There was something else familiar about this incident that he couldn’t figure out. Looking at his feet, there was a purple residue, a fine dust, still on the floor. Phadre had come over, and taking a leather cloth out of his pocket, collected a small amount of the dust on it.

  “What are you going to do with that?” Veranix asked.

  “I’m not sure, but it is evidence, yes?”

  Veranix got back on his feet and looked closer. It did have a scent, which Veranix knew he had smelled before. He cautiously leaned in and took a sniff. Then it hit him.

  That was the scent of effitte.

  “I can’t say I felt the same thing as you describe, Mister Sarren,” the professor was saying, “but I will grant you have a greater sensitivity than I do. I appreciate you telling me.”

  “But what could it mean, sir?” Delmin asked. “I mean . . . oh sweet saints.”

  Veranix looked back to Delmin, whose eyes were fixed on the ceiling. He followed Delmin’s gaze, as did Phadre and the professor.

  “Well,” Phadre said flatly. “Something familiar there.”

  Scrawled in purple letters across the ceiling were the words: NOW YOU FOOLS WILL SEE.

  Chapter 5

  PROFESSOR BESKER—nebbishy, bespectacled man that he was—stalked around the area of Holtman Hall, looking carefully at the boys who were being treated by Yellowshields outside. Eventually he approached Veranix and Delmin, who were camped on a stoop some distance away from the scene.

  “Mister Calbert, Mister Sarren, I see you were among those affected by this attack.”

  “We were in there, yes, sir.”

  “And the two of you also live in Almers, do you not? So you were affected by both pranks?”

  Veranix raised an eyebrow to the history professor. “Is that what they are still calling this?”

  “I am not privy to the official reports,” Professor Besker said. “However, they were described to me as ‘malicious pranks,’ so I am presuming that is what they are being considered.”

  “Malicious is the tune of it,” Veranix said.

  “That said, as you two were affected by both events, and are scheduled for my exam in an hour, I have been instructed to make the inquiry: have these incidents left you unable to properly participate in the examination?”

  The look on his face told Veranix all he needed to know about Professor Besker’s question: that he would honor whatever answer they gave as a matter of duty, but he would hold them in contempt should they decline to take the exam at the appointed time.

  “I’m fine, sir,” Veranix said. “Though Delmin might have been struck worse than me in this last one.”

  “No, I’ll take the exam,” Delmin said.

  “So I will see you shortly, then?”

  “Abs
olutely, sir,” Veranix said, putting on his best brave face.

  “Capital.” Professor Besker sighed and brushed off his coat. “It really is pointless, you know. Every few years someone attempts some sort of wanton destructive act to ward off exams. As if a cancellation would mean they receive passing marks. Pranks, indeed.”

  He stalked off to some of the other boys.

  “You know,” Delmin said, “most of these boys are not in any shape to take exams right now.”

  “We could have weaseled out if we wanted,” Veranix said. “But I might as well fail with dignity.”

  Kaiana approached, changed out of her workclothes into a clean dress. “How bad was it?”

  “Very bad,” Veranix said. “They’re saying ‘prank,’ but whatever this was, it involved magic in some way, and it involved effitte.”

  “How?” Kaiana’s voice dropped to a growl.

  “Wait, yeah, how?” Delmin asked.

  “The smoke, and the residue it left. Smelled just like effitte, same shade of purple.”

  Delmin’s face screwed up in thought, but he said nothing.

  “So you’re going to do something about it, right?” Kaiana asked.

  “Like what?”

  “Like find whoever did this—twice now—and stop them.”

  “No, no,” Delmin said. “He has a history exam in an hour. He has another exam tomorrow, and one after that. And when we aren’t studying or taking exams, we are joined at the hip to Phadre over there.”

  Phadre was still shaken up, sitting off in the distance while a Yellowshield looked him over.

  “You need to find a way,” Kaiana told Veranix.

  “I don’t know how,” Veranix said. “Maybe Delmin’s right, and this is something left to the school’s officials.”

  “Magic, effitte, and you at the center both times,” she said. “Even if that last part is a coincidence, the Thorn protects this part of town from things that cross over from Dentonhill. Or anywhere else.”

  Veranix didn’t disagree with that. In fact, he’d far rather spend the next hour using whoever did this as target practice. “I’ve got no idea where to start doing that right now.”