The Firemage's Vengeance

by Garrett Robinson

  She took her seat, still not meeting his eyes, while Theren fetched another armchair and placed it beside Lilith’s. But she sat in it instead of offering it to Ebon, and so he was forced to take her armchair instead. Kalem had stood in silence, gawking at the proceedings with wide eyes, and it was only after all the other three had seated themselves that he started, as if waking from a dream, and took his own chair.

  For a long moment, silence reigned as they all looked at Lilith in the lamplight, and she tried to avoid looking back at them.

  “Where is Nella?” said Ebon, desperate to break the stiffness that had settled over them like a sheet of ice.

  “We have opposite study schedules,” said Lilith.

  “Ah.”

  Again, a long quiet stretched. Ebon’s fingers drummed on the arms of his chair.

  At last Lilith cleared her throat. “Well,” she said quietly. “I suppose there is no use trying to pretend that this is not very strange for all of us.”

  Theren let out a hysterical bark of laughter, too loud and too high, and then fell silent. Ebon quashed a snicker. Kalem only frowned. “Did you … and understand that I do not mean you are not welcome. But did you come to us for any particular purpose?”

  Lilith nodded. “I had heard what happened to Isra,” she said. “Is it true that the three of you saw her corpse?”

  Ebon met eyes with his friends, hoping they all knew better than to say anything of the events that had transpired the night before. “We did,” he said.

  “Is it true she is long dead?” said Lilith. “That is what the rumors are saying.”

  “That is true,” said Ebon. “Though we are not sure how.”

  “Because you saw her living less than two weeks ago,” said Lilith, nodding. “How can that be?”

  “We have an idea,” said Theren, sitting up.

  “Theren,” said Ebon.

  She glared. “Lilith has not betrayed our trust thus far, Ebon. And mayhap she will have an idea for how Isra did it, that we have not yet thought of.” Lilith leaned forwards to listen, and Theren went on. “I have never heard of magic that could do something of this sort. My first thought was therianthropy, but if the corpse were a weremage, it would not look like Isra—”

  “—and if it had been a weremage in the kitchens, they would not have had mindmagic to battle me,” said Lilith.

  Theren slumped in her chair. “That is just what we said.”

  Lilith frowned, looking into her lap. For a moment Ebon hoped beyond hope that she would, in fact, know how such a feat might be accomplished. But when she lifted her gaze, she only shook her head. “I have no idea how it might have been done. I am sorry.”

  “It is hardly your fault,” said Theren with a small smile. Lilith returned it. Kalem grimaced.

  A thought struck Ebon, and he worked it around until he had thought of a question that seemed to pose no danger. “Lilith … have you heard aught of Gregor since last we sought him out?”

  Lilith’s mood darkened, and she shook her head. “I have not … not exactly, anyway. But something happened upon the Seat just last night. A fear has spread throughout my family again, just as it did when the Seat was attacked, and the High King suspected us of being complicit. Now our terror is not so great, but it has certainly returned. I will try to reach out to Farah again, and see if she knows what happened.”

  “And we will ask Mako,” said Theren, giving Ebon a meaningful look. He thought he understood—they must keep up appearances that they knew no more than Lilith did.

  “Will you see him soon?” said Lilith. “Mayhap I should come. We could pool our knowledge.”

  “No,” said Theren at once.

  Lilith frowned. “I do not mean to—”

  Theren shook her head. “You are not the one who worries me. Mako would not be pleased to see you. You have been through enough already, and I would not bring you within arm’s reach of that man, not for all the gold upon the High King’s Seat.”

  That made Lilith subside, and she gave Theren a wry smile. “Are you certain? I wonder if you know how much gold that would be. It is a large amount. I myself would not hesitate to have a meal with Mako, if I could get my hands upon it.”

  Theren smirked. “You goldbags. Your coffers overflow, and yet always you seek more.”

  Lilith giggled, and it was a sound so foreign that Ebon froze in amazement. She stood then, and brushed at her robes.

  “I should be going,” she said. “I have intruded upon your time long enough.”

  “It was no intrusion,” said Theren. “You could stay if you wish.”

  “I … I have studies,” said Lilith, looking down in embarrassment. “Jia requires a dissertation from me. Perhaps another time.”

  She stepped out between the armchairs—but as she did, Theren raised a hand, and Lilith took it on instinct. They held each other only a moment, but their fingers dragged against each other as they parted, as though reluctant to let go.

  MAKO [15]

  That night, the streets of the city seemed filled with a heightened tension–or perhaps it was only the fear in the hearts of Ebon and his friends that made it seem so. Oddly, Ebon was calmest of them all. Mayhap it was because he had faced so much danger already that he was growing inured to it.

  They breathed a heavy sigh of relief when they caught sight of Leven’s tavern. Together they entered as quickly as they could, and tramped the snow off their boots in the doorway.

  At the bar stood a broad man hidden beneath a black cloak, his hood drawn up. He turned at the sound of their entrance, though no one else seemed to pay them any mind. Ebon saw the flash of Mako’s eyes beneath the cowl. He came to join them at their customary table, a bottle of wine in one hand and four cups clutched in the other.

  He wasted no time on pleasantries. “Darkness take this mindmage bitch,” he growled. Theren sat up straighter, but he only sneered. “Not you. I mean Isra. I can find no trace of her.”

  “No trace but the corpse, you mean,” said Kalem.

  “Which we already know is not hers,” said Mako, growing angrier still. “I can deceive the eye when I wish, and remain unseen when I must. But even I cannot conjure my own corpse out of thin air, nor hide from every prying eye upon the Seat. When at last I get my hands on her, I will flay her slow just for the inconvenience she has caused me.”

  “Is it possible you are jealous?” said Theren lightly. “You seem frankly obsessed with her skill at deception, Mako.”

  The way the bodyguard’s jaw clenched, Ebon feared he might lash out at her. But he only tightened his fist around his cup until Ebon could hear its wood squeaking.

  “I find her cunning as troubling as you do, no doubt,” said Ebon. “But we have another problem. We told the faculty that we saw her in the kitchens, and so the three of us have fallen under suspicion. I worry what that will mean for us, though of course we are innocent when it comes to Isra.”

  “Innocent?” said Mako with a cruel grin. “That is an odd word for it, and not one I would choose.”

  “We did not kill her, is what he means,” said Kalem, as Ebon flushed and lowered his gaze.

  “Well, only catching her will prove that,” said Theren.

  Mako pounded a fist on the table. “Yet that seems impossible, though our watch upon the Academy has been ceaseless, except for last night when I summoned my fighters to the sewers—but we know she did not infiltrate the Academy last night, for we saw her below. She is not in any of the Yerrins’ usual hiding spots, and she is nowhere else upon the Seat, for I have eyes in every cranny.”

  “Mayhap she has used mindwyrd to send false tales to you?” said Ebon. “One of your spies might have seen her, but been charmed into telling you they had not.”

  Mako’s eyes rolled so far back that Ebon thought the bodyguard might faint. “Oh, how clever of you to think of such a thing, Ebon. If only I had thought of that immediately, and taken precautions to prevent it. You should be the family’s master of spies,
and not I.”

  Theren leaned over. “I believe he means to say that he has taken precautions against such a ruse.”

  Ebon scowled into his drink. “It was only a suggestion.”

  “I do not need your suggestions,” said Mako. “I need your lover.”

  A chill stole up Ebon’s spine, freezing him in place. He glared at Mako. “Do not speak of her to me. She has nothing to do with this.”

  “Not yet,” said Mako, glaring right back. “But she must, or we are lost. Go to her. Tell her we need help beyond our own means.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “To you? Nothing.” Mako threw back his cup of wine and stood. “But the words will carry weight with her. Send them along, little Ebon. Go tomorrow night—I and mine will watch your path along the streets and ensure you come to no harm. Send word to me afterwards, as soon as you can.”

  He walked to the door and vanished into the night. Kalem and Theren stared at Ebon in wonder.

  “What was that about?” said Theren.

  Ebon said nothing, but only stared into his wine, his heart thundering with fear.

  thirty

  ADARA [16]

  Ebon woke with guilt roiling in his gut.

  After seeing Mako, he had wrestled long into the night with his feelings. The last thing he wanted was to involve Adara again. His kin had brought her enough dangers already, and though she always reassured him that her contacts in the Guild of Lovers would not betray her, still he worried. Though he did not understand the message he was supposed to relay, he did not doubt he would feel even more uncomfortable about it if he did.

  His thoughts were in turmoil all morning. But at last, just before the bell rang for breakfast, he fetched parchment and a quill and scribbled a note to Adara, sending it along with Mellie at the front door. Isra’s corpse still lay in the Academy, and the investigation would not stop simply because he wished it to. If they did not find Isra, surely it would only be a matter of time before the faculty found out about the amulet, and then they were all lost.

  The day’s studies went by in a blur. Ebon managed to keep up appearances well enough that Perrin did not bark at him for his wandering attention, and of course Kalem and Theren mostly left him alone in the library, for their thoughts were just as preoccupied. After dinner he set off into the streets for the second day in a row, but this time alone. He looked all about him, hoping to catch a glimpse of a black-clad assassin haunting his steps. But he saw nothing, and wondered if that should make him feel better or worse.

  Though the troubles that burdened him seemed crushing in their weight, he still felt a wash of relief the moment he stepped across Adara’s threshold. Before Ebon reached the top of the stairs, she was there, and he heaved a great sigh as she took him into her arms. The last of his anxiety washed away like soot stains in a downpour.

  “My love,” she murmured. “I was overjoyed at your message, but now I wonder at its purpose, for I can see that a great many things weigh heavily upon you.”

  “You do not know the half of it,” said Ebon, “but I can fix that. Come. There is much to tell.”

  As quickly as he could, he informed her of all that had transpired since last he had seen her. She listened attentively, stopping him sharply when he left out a detail and threw the tale into confusion. And when he reached the end, and told her what Mako had said, he saw her olive skin go a shade lighter.

  “He used those words, did he?” she muttered softly. “Darkness take that man.”

  “What did he mean?” said Ebon. “I hear no special truth in the words, but he seemed to think they held one, and now it seems you feel the same.”

  “Oh, he does not speak in some code,” she said. “Yet he knew that I would know what he meant. How did he learn …” She shook her head and stood, going to the cabinet where she kept her wine and her mead. “Never mind that. I need something to wet my throat.”

  “Do not—that is …” Ebon paused, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Might I try some of your mead, instead of wine?”

  She arched an eyebrow and gave him a little smirk. “Are you certain? It is an acquired taste. I doubt you will like it.”

  He raised his hands. “How will I ever acquire it if I do not try?”

  Adara studied him for a moment, and then shrugged before bringing the bottle of mead over to the table. First she poured into his cup, but only a little splash, and then nudged it towards him. “Try it. I would not waste a whole cup on you if you do not enjoy it.”

  Ebon lifted it to his lips and took a sniff. It did not smell … bad, exactly. But neither did it make his mouth water. He tilted the cup back.

  The taste that slid down his tongue and into his throat was both familiar and foreign—like honey without the sweet. Too, there were herbs and spices aplenty; as a Drayden, he could not help but pick some of them out. It was not entirely unpleasant, but neither did it set him at ease, the way the first good swig of wine often did.

  “Acquired, perhaps,” he said. “But not awful at first blush, either.”

  Adara seemed impressed despite herself. “Indeed? Mayhap I should have expected as much, from a man whose tastes are as cultured as yours.” She smirked to let him know the words were playful, and then filled his cup nearly to the brim before doing the same with her own. Ebon’s second sip was better than the first, and made the more pleasant when Adara settled herself sideways across his lap, draping an arm about his shoulders as she met his gaze.

  “Now, tell me what hidden meaning I have brought from Mako’s lips to your ears,” said Ebon. “I do not like that my family’s man knows something of you that I do not.”

  “Oh, but there are so many things you do not know about me, Ebon—and so many more things I look forwards to teaching you.” Though her words were light, and her tone more so, he could see the concern lurking in her dark eyes. It soon came out in a sigh. “Your man has learned—though I know not how—of a certain … friend I have. A friend who owes me a favor.”

  Ebon’s jaw clenched, though he tried to hide it. He inspected his cup carefully, feigning nonchalance. “Is your friend a client?”

  She let out a slow breath through her nose, and he could hear her trying to hide her annoyance just as hard as he had tried to hide his interest. “They are not. They are … well, I did them a favor once, long before I came to this life. I have waited many years for the call to return that favor. But I wonder that I did not think of it before, for certainly I think they could be of help.”

  “I would not have you waste your one chance on me,” said Ebon. “After all, I hardly think they could be more useful in finding Isra than Mako has been.”

  “You do not know my friend,” said Adara, giving him a grim little smile. “You have said before that if anyone can find the girl, Mako can. That is not true. The truth is that, if anyone can find the girl, my friend can.”

  “But that is all the more reason you should not waste such a chance on me,” said Ebon. “I may not even need such help.”

  “Yet you may,” said Adara. “And if things go ill for you without such a favor, it could mean your life. That is something I cannot allow.”

  She rose, leaving Ebon’s lap suddenly cool. From a cupboard she drew parchment and a quill, and when she had scribbled a message, she sealed it with wax using a seal Ebon had never seen before. But he could not catch a glimpse of its design before she whisked it away and down the steps. He heard her sharp whistle as she flagged down a messenger, and then in a moment she reappeared in the room.

  “I must get dressed for a walk,” she said. “And so must you.”

  “Now?” said Ebon. “Surely you cannot mean to see your friend tonight. How can you know your message will find them?”

  “It will,” she said. “And they will come at once. Have no fear of that. You must not be dressed in Academy robes when we see them. I have some other garments that will do.”

  She undressed quickly and made Ebon do the same. Whe
n his hands wandered towards her, she smirked and slapped them away. She then bundled herself up in winter clothes, and gave Ebon an outfit of his own that was elegant without drawing much attention. As soon as they had laced up their boots, she went to him and took his hand, and pulled him down for a quick peck on the cheek.

  “You must promise that you will not stare overmuch, nor act out of turn,” she said. “And you must not ask me any questions. Do you understand? Mayhap one day I can explain. But not now.”

  “Very well,” he said.

  She caught his cheek, and turned him to face her. She stared at him for a long moment. “Promise me.”

  He frowned. “I promise. Why? What is wrong?”

  “Nothing is wrong,” she said. “But … well, things are about to become very different. For both of us.”

  With one more kiss, she drew him out and into the snowy night.

  ADARA [16]

  The afternoon now wore on, and the days were shorter besides, so Adara hurried as she led him along winding streets and alleys, for it would soon be dusk. Every so often he would take her hand—not out of the need for guidance, or the fear of losing her in the crowd, but simply so that he could feel the warmth of her skin on his own.

  They were making east now, in nearly the same direction where lay the Drayden manor. But after a time they turned, on the main road that ran from the western gates to the east. They had long passed the Academy to the south, and the High King’s palace loomed close above them, when Adara turned aside and led him north a ways, through streets and alleys that grew narrower with every step. Soon they reached a little shop with a large red door, where Adara paused. From its chimney wafted the smell of coals and the sharp, bitter tang of molten metal. But this was no ironsmith—in the windows of the shop were set little trinkets and dishes of silver.

  “Around back,” Adara murmured. “It would not do for us to be seen entering the front door—and my friend would prefer it that way as well, I think.”