by C. A. McHugh
***
It was after dinner before Aerrin finally found her. Seroney hadn’t gone to the library like she said. He checked the usual spots she favored, but it wasn’t until he bumped into Quinn outside the Great Hall at dinner that he finally discovered where she was. He followed the older student through the busy kitchen to a back room where Seroney sat polishing a huge stack of silver trays.
“What are you doing?” Aerrin asked.
Seroney started at the sound of his voice. “My punishment. I have to polish all the silver in the Academy.”
“So you didn’t get expelled?”
“No”
Quinn sat next to her and grabbed one of the trays. “I have an idea. Let’s just use magic and be done with it.”
Seroney shook her head. “Nope. I’m not allowed to use magic to do this.”
“It wouldn’t be a punishment if she could just say a few words and be done with it.” Aerrin watched, still noting the fatigue slowing her movements. A jolt of guilt hit him, and he found an extra cloth and began rubbing the silver. “Let me help you with these. You look exhausted.”
“Thank you,” she replied in that same flat tone she’d used more and more over the last few weeks.
They sat without speaking for a few minutes before Aerrin could no longer bear the silence. “What kind of spell was that?”
She gave him a hint of a knowing smile. “Just a variation of a transformation spell.”
He shuddered as he remembered the one time she’d used it on him.
“You just have to imagine the transformation before casting it,” she continued. “It wears off in an hour or so.”
“I’m sorry I missed it,” Quinn said with a grin. “I heard it was rather grotesque.”
Her smile started to fade. “I know I shouldn’t have done it in front of the class, but I had just had enough of that slimy leech. I thought it was about time he realized whom he was insulting.”
“You were lucky he didn’t retaliate, Seroney.” Aerrin rubbed even harder on the tray, unsure how he’d achieve the same shiny surface the other two managed to create on their trays. “After all, he is a master, and you’re just a fifth-year student.”
She snorted at his comment and began rubbing her tray with renewed fury. “That incompetent son of a troll doesn’t know which side is up. I could have done much worse.”
Aerrin’s spine stiffened. Master Philgus was probably the worst master in the Academy, but he was still a master mage. He had passed the trials required to earn that title. The fact she’d mentioned she could’ve done something much worse to him worried him almost as much as the act. Was she just being arrogant? Or was she actually stating the truth? “What do you think Master Philgus would have done to you if he had retaliated?”
“First of all, I think he was too busy wetting himself to even cast a spell. In case you haven’t noticed, he’s not a very competent caster.”
“If he’s so incompetent, why do you think they keep him on here at the Academy?”
“Besides pity?” Seroney reached for another tray and polished for a moment. “Other than that, I have no idea. The only person who can answer that question is Master Binnius.”
“I suppose if the Raven Bringer ever attacked, I wouldn’t want to be depending on him.”
Both Quinn and Seroney stopped polishing and stared at Aerrin.
His stomach twisted into so many knots, he almost doubled over. He couldn’t believe what he’d let slip. He fumbled with the goblet in his hand. “Hypothetically, of course. We all, uh, know that he’s gone now.”
Quinn seemed satisfied and resumed his polishing, but Seroney stared at him through slightly narrowed eyes. Had she caught his slip?
What had started out as an attempt to pull answers from her had suddenly turned on him. He avoided her gaze before she could wheedle the truth out of him.
“There will always be some evil force in the world, be it the Raven Bringer or something else. To hear Philgus talk, I’m the next threat to the kingdom.”
“You wouldn’t hurt a fly, Seroney.” Quinn gave her a grin that radiated his admiration of her.
She didn’t return the smile. Instead, she simply arched a brow.
All Aerrin could think about was the way she’d conjured a giant hand to knock that Jarilith into a wall with enough force to bring down the ceiling.
“This is getting old,” she announced. She threw her cloth up in the air and cast a spell on it. The cloth shattered into a dozen pieces, each piece regenerating into a new cloth. They then each began to automatically polish the remaining silver in the room. She rose from her stool and brushed off her dress. “I think I’ve been punished enough. Thank you both for helping me out. I’m going to see to something else.”
She was gone before they could lay their cloths down.
“That was strange,” Aerrin murmured, still watching the empty doorway as though she’d return at any second.
“You heard her. She thinks she’s been punished enough and has things to do.” Quinn stood and threw his cloth on the corner. “Well, I guess we’re not needed here anymore. Time to study.”
Aerrin nodded and followed. He needed to study hard if he was going to pass this next set of challenges. Otherwise, he’d be asking Seroney for some last minute tutoring again.
But if he ever got another chance, he’d press her for the answers he needed, especially after gaining this new insight. Maybe Master Binnius was right. Maybe he should focus on making her his ally. Because if this was how she treated her enemies, he didn’t want to get on her bad side.
Chapter 18
Seroney sat under an ever-blooming magnolia tree outside the Academy, close enough to Aerrin and his friends to keep an eye on them but not close enough to make it obvious. The book in her hands provided more of a shield than actual intellectual content. She was more than ready to breeze through the next set of challenges, although this time, she knew better than to perform at her real skill level. She had to remember what she was pretending to be—a fifteen-year-old human who was only a fifth year student of magic.
Thirty feet away, Aerrin and Nyssa frantically poured over their books and practiced the same spells over and over again. Leandros, on the other hand, seemed more occupied with wordlessly flirting with one of the fourth-years. He preened with his chest out, practiced his swordsmanship rather than his spell craft, and sent suggestive smiles to the tittering young girl.
Seroney rolled her eyes. If he wasn’t careful, Leandros would be sent home after these challenges. But then, that’s what everyone speculated with every set of challenges, and somehow, the king’s best friend managed to charm his way through them.
Unfortunately, his charm didn’t quite work the way he’s hoped with the girl. She got up and ran to one of her classmates, her hand covering her mouth as she whispered something in the other girl’s ear before they both erupted into giggles.
A gust of wind ripped through the grounds carrying an icy chill with it, a reminder of what lay on the other side of the Gentil Mountains. Winter was blanketing the rest of the kingdom in snow, but in the enchanted land of Arcana where it was always spring, the bite in the air made the hair on her arm rise.
The flock of ravens that swirled in circles overhead before disappearing over the horizon didn’t help her sense of unease.
And judging by the tense lines of Aerrin’s face, he felt the same way.
The Raven Bringer had the ability to appear and disappear within a swarm of the black winged birds. Hence one of the origins of his name. And undoubtedly, why Aerrin’s guard rose whenever a flock of them flew through the sky. The king knew the Raven Bringer was still alive.
As did she, especially after her encounter with him in Gentilmead last month.
His gaze shifted to her, and for moment, they stared each other down. She tried to gage his fear while he regarded her as some kind of riddle for him to solve.
Don’t go hunting for the truth, boy, unless you are rea
dy to deal with the consequences.
And if he discovered the truth about her, would he show her any mercy?
The staring match ended when he stood and walked toward her.
Seroney fixed a pleasant expression on her face and hoped he wanted to have a friendly conversation, perhaps even invite her to join his group.
Instead, he stood in front of her, arms crossed, brows drawn together in suspicion. “I have no idea what your family name is.”
She bit back the groan. This was going to be more of an inquisition than a friendly chat. “You never asked.”
“What is it?”
“Meri—” She caught herself before she revealed what had been a source of pride in Oudesta. Here, it would only get her killed. “Meris,” she finished, hoping he’d believe her.
He silently repeated it as though he was trying to commit it to memory. “And where are you from?”
Another question she couldn’t truthfully answer without ending up in some kind of dungeon.
“Near the Great Divide.” Close enough to the truth without being a total lie. From her home, she could see the faint outline of the mountains on a clear day.
“And what does your father do?”
“He’s a local politician.”
The crease between his brows deepened. “Is there a reason why you’re being so vague?”
“Is there a reason why you’re interrogating me rather than practicing your vanquishing spells?”
His eyes widened for a moment, only to jerk upwards when the mocking caws of the ravens filled the skies once again. When his gaze returned to her, they were filled with even more puzzlement tempered by a hint of fear.
He was on the verge of asking his next question when an errand boy approached and handed her a letter. Seroney turned it over, looking from some sort of clue as to who it was from. Her parents knew better than to send any communication to her while she was here unless it was through very discreet channels. But this letter was simply sealed with black wax that bore no clue as to the sender.
Gooseflesh prickled her skin as she opened the letter. With every word she read, her heart dropped a little further.
I warned you not to cross me. I know who you are and what you are, and now you will pay for your interference.
She reread the note one more time, worry knotting her stomach more when she realized there was only one person who would dare send such a threat. The last thing she needed was for someone to reveal what she really was... or insinuate that she had any connection to him. She crumpled the letter and cast a fire spell, burning the letter up in a matter of seconds.
She needed to speak to her uncle. The note was a sign the Raven Bringer was near, but as long as Aerrin stayed on the Academy’s grounds, he was safe. There were enough magical barriers in place to keep him from entering. But when Aerrin returned to Dromore after this next set of challenges…
She ignored the bewildered expression on his face as she jumped to her feet and dashed past him without another word. Her mission was in danger of being compromised, and the sooner she acted, the less damage he could cause.
Chapter 19
Raimel clung to the shadows along the road outside of Gentilmead, watching the man who hobbled up the hill toward him. In his younger days, he would’ve pounced on his victim, either for the purpose of robbing him clean or just for the thrill of scaring a few years off the life of some helpless twat. But he knew better than to do that with the man coming up the road. He might have been well into adulthood, but there was still one man that could smack him like some insolent whelp using just magic.
“Raimel, come out,” Master Binnius ordered. “I know you’re there.”
So much for the element of surprise. Raimel slipped out of the shadows. “You sent for me?”
“Indeed I did. I have need of your specific skills.”
“First the King of Thieves, now you.” He heaved a dramatic sigh and rolled his eyes for good measure. “It’s no fun being this popular.”
“Just be thankful he’s not trying to recruit you again.”
Master Binnius didn’t need to say the name to revive the burn of all the scars along his back. “We should be thankful for the small blessings, then. Speaking of which…”
“A new batch, as promised.” The old man handed over a tinkling pouch that held at least a dozen small vials of the elixir that made his existence bearable. “That should last you another three months. And I personally made sure Master Philgus adhered to the recipe this time.”
“Ceryst and I both thank you.” The last batch had been too weak, and they’d both paid the price. “Now, what do you want from me?”
Master Binnius chuckled. “One of the many reasons I enjoy working with you. Your prior vows have instilled a rather strict adherence to the code, which I rather like.”
“Easy for you to say.” He wasn’t the one who’d had to knock off three more people in the last month. But like the prior ones, they’d all been scumbags he was glad to dispose of. And he didn’t mind paying a tribute for the information that tracked down a certain merchant with a small library of spell books containing dark magic. “Just no word of this to Ceryst, or he may feel obligated to enact his vows on me.”
Amusement glittered from underneath the master mage’s bushy brows. “The goddess help us all.”
“Indeed.” He never liked standing out in the open for long—too easy to become a target—so he ambled down the road at a pace that wouldn’t tax the old man. “Any reason you didn’t ask me to bring our uptight friend?”
“Because I didn’t feel the need to endanger him.”
“Just me, eh? Geez, I’m feeling the love right now.”
Master Binnius’s lips twitched, but he quickly grew serious. “I have reason to believe our enemy has been lurking about the Academy. I need someone with your ability to peer into his world.”
Raimel cursed. He’d been a good boy and stayed out of the Shadow Realm since his last run-in with the Raven Bringer. That last thing he wanted was another one of those oh-so-enchanting conversations with the homicidal maniac.
“Just a quick glance is all I need,” Master Binnius continued. “Surely, you could do that for me.”
The old man’s gaze fell to the pouch in his hand, and Raimel groaned. It wasn’t as complicated as a tribute, but he was still indebted to the master mage. “Fine. One glance, and then I need to go and play nanny to Ceryst again.”
“Much appreciated.”
Raimel focused his inner eye on the other realm, but unlike the sharp contrast he’d always seen before, the images were hazy and distorted. He pulled back to the mortal realm and shook his head as though the act would clear both his mind and his vision.
“Something wrong?” Master Binnius asked while he used his staff to doodle something on the dirt road.
“Yes. I think I’ve been playing the good boy for too long.” This time, he didn’t merely peek into the shadows. He plunged headfirst into them.
And immediately wished he hadn’t when he saw the wave of ravens rushing toward him.
The metallic taste of fear—or was it merely blood?—filled his dry mouth. Terror paralyzed his limbs, made his bowels twist and turn until he feared losing their contents, caused his pulse to vibrate through his head until the horizon shook. But he managed to regain control of his wits and jump back into the mortal realm. “Look out!”
A spell burst from Master Binnius’s palm, and everything around the headmaster glimmered in a bright blue light. The thwack of the ravens hitting something solid rang in Raimel’s ears, followed by a howl of frustration.
He looked down at the perfect circle Master Binnius had drawn around them and grinned. “Nice.”
“The protection spell has its uses,” the master mage replied, his voice calm despite the black mass swirling in front of him. Any other man would’ve been close to pissing himself right about then. “It’s why it’s a second year spell.”
The ravens coalesced a
nd faded into the form of a man—a masked figure Raimel had hoped never to see again.
Too bad the gods had it out for him.
The Raven Bringer stood before them, his true face hidden behind the sinister grinning skull. His black cloak flapped in the wind, and the low angle of the hood shrouded him in darkness. His eyes glowed as red as any demon’s, though the man before them was all human. “You think a child’s spell will stop me?” he asked in a raspy voice that dripped with venom.
“It has so far,” Binnius answered with a haughty tilt to his chin. “You know you won’t succeed.”
Low laughter rumbled through the air and sent shivers down Raimel’s spine. The Raven Bringer had always been a cocky asshole, and time hadn’t diminished that trait one bit. “And you’re so worried about me that you’ll employ the likes of cursed ones to stop me.”
“But as you mentioned, we are stopping you. The demon that your young apprentice unleashed on the Academy failed to do more than break a few walls. Just like the assassin you sent last summer failed to kill the king.”
“And while we’re on the list of failures, don’t forget the army of demons you sent to kill me and Ceryst.” Raimel made a chiding sound as he shook his head. “Face it, RB, you aren’t the fearsome creature you used to be. Best retire now before someone puts you in your place.”
Those red eyes narrowed into slits, and Raimel learned all too quickly that he still needed to watch his mouth around the Raven Bringer. His insides burned as though someone had placed an exploding volcano inside him, turning his blood into lava. He dropped to his knees, his vision red with pain. His lungs refused to work, even though they burned for air. He couldn’t even scream.
“See, Binnius?” The Raven Bringer asked, his words almost bouncing with glee. “Your simple spell may protect you, but I still have dominion over him.”
“Is that so?” The old man whacked Raimel in the back of his head with his staff.
Raimel’s stomach lurched, and black stars exploded along the edges of his vision, but the assault freed him from the Raven Bringer’s grasp. He drew in a deep breath and savored the cool rush that streamed through his lungs and trembling muscles. The pain was gone.
