Call of Kythshire (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 1)

by Missy Sheldrake

  “Shush!” Flit cries in my head as Rian’s eyes snap wide in shock and his hand flies up to cover my mouth. He shakes his head frantically. I understand. Even here under the cover of darkness, in secret whispers, it isn’t safe to talk about the Wellspring. He grabs my hand and leads me back into the ballroom, where he seems to be searching for someone. Eventually, he tracks down a rather old-looking master in plain gray robes, with a long pointed beard that trails down to his chest in white wisps. He’s deep in conversation with another Mage, who is only slightly younger looking. I stand beside Rian, feeling awkward as the two halt their conversation mid-sentence. The younger mage excuses himself, seemingly relieved by the interruption.

  “Evening, Apprentice,” the older Mage says, nodding cordially. Rian pats his chest with his hand and leans forward slightly in the Mage’s greeting. The man turns to me, “and you are, dear?”

  “Azi. Um, Squire Azaeli Hammerfel, sir.”

  “Ah, yes. I ought to have known. Anod Bental, High Master and Advisor to His Majesty, the King.” My breath catches in my throat at his intimidating title, and I nod my head politely. Rian squeezes my hand reassuringly, and then steps closer to Anod and makes another gesture, one I haven’t seen before. He taps three fingers of his right hand to his left arm, just above the bend of his elbow. The man’s eyes snap to Rian’s fingers and back to his face again. “Is this some joke?” he reaches to cover Rian’s hand with his, and Rian shakes his head. He pulls his hand free to make the gesture again.

  “Well, don’t do it again, boy!” His voice is slightly panicked as he claps his hand over Rian’s again and checks to make sure no one has seen. “Come with me.” He leads us quickly into the corridor with the alcove bearing the dark tapestry. With a quick look over his shoulder he moves it aside and whispers, and a passage appears. We slip inside, and the opening behind us solidifies again. The walls grow damp and stony as we walk, and the floor slants downward. Eventually I realize that we must have long left the palace for the network of Academy tunnels that are rumored to run below the city itself.

  My breath comes in cool puffs of white in the chilled air, and I hold on tightly to Rian to keep from sliding in shoes that were not meant for such a hard, slick path. My dress grows heavy as it slides along the narrow passage, collecting droplets of moisture from the walls and floor. Its fine threads pull on the rough walls, fraying the delicate fabric, opening holes in the once pristine blue and gold, ruining it.

  The further from the palace we get, the more nervous I become. How well does Rian trust Anod, I wonder, to follow him into the depths of the tunnels where we could disappear and nobody would know? The king trusts him enough to call him an advisor, but with all of this plotting, whose side is he truly on? I decide there isn’t much I can do but trust Rian’s judgment as Anod opens a rough wooden door and gestures us inside. The room is starkly furnished with a plain wood table and several stools. There are no windows or openings other than the one we entered through. There isn’t even a fireplace. It reminds me of a prison cell, and when he closes the door, I hug my arms across my chest. Rian guides me to a stool and sits with his arm around me.

  “It’s awful,” Flit’s whisper comes to my mind, “So heavy in here.” I give a very slight nod of my head as Anod locks the door and tucks the key into his pocket. He gestures over it with a murmur to set the ward, and then he turns to Rian.

  “I release you from your bonds of silence, Apprentice.” He says.

  “Thank you,” Rian says with great relief, clearing his throat. Anod bobs his head.

  “Now tell me, what is the meaning of this? And do you think it wise to use such a gesture before...” he nods to me, “An untrained?”

  “Yes, Grand Master, I do. Considering who the untrained is.” Anod studies me for a moment and I fight the urge to look away.

  “Very well, very well.” He concedes. “What is it, then? Is there truly a danger?”

  “Viala,” Rian says simply, and Anod’s eyes narrow into slits of fury.

  “As we expected.”

  “She means to annihilate the protectors. The whole line.” Rian says.

  “I see,” Anod strokes his beard thoughtfully, “Yes, that would be very effective, it would. Clever of her. And how does she mean to do this?”

  “Ambush,” Rian says, “Redemption’s allegiance is with Eron. They lie in wait for the approach of His Majesty’s Elite. They mean to attack them. That will take care of Master Gaethon. Sir Lisabella has already crossed the border, the cyclones will take care of her once they multiply, which they will once Viala begins to test the Wellspring. That just leaves...” he turns his head to me slowly.

  “Me,” I whisper. “But does it really matter? Can’t they see that anyone could watch over it? You could, Rian. Or Da could. Anyone who cared could keep the cyclones away.”

  “What a charming sense of humility you have, dear Azaeli.” Anod says with a gentle smile. “Yes, someone else could make the promise and act as protector, but it would take many generations for their bloodline to hold the same power yours does now. It is imperative that your line continues to thrive, in order to maintain peace. Kythshire is a land full of mysteries, Azaeli. Most of which even us learned scholars will never come to fully understand. Though we thirst for the power and knowledge within its boundaries, we have learned over the years that there is a high price to pay for it. Some things are best left to the unknown.” He groans and settles onto a stool before he goes on.

  “Viala, on the other hand, is young. She has no respect for this notion. In Sunteri, where she was raised, knowledge and power are valued above all else. They are ruthless in the pursuit of it. Her people see only the potential to own it all, for to master a Wellspring is to master magic itself. And now, with the prince as her puppet, she might just.” he shakes his head. “She might just, yes.”

  Something nags at me as he talks, a tiny fact. Rian knew about the Wellspring all this time. At the very least, he knew that. I wonder how much else he’s been aware of. Did he know, growing up, that my mother was a part of this promise that spanned generations? Did he know I was? What about the rest of the guild? How much of this secret have they kept from me? How many of the choices I’ve made have been my own, and how many have been carefully orchestrated by my parents, who knew the path I was meant to follow? Why didn’t they trust me enough to tell me the truth? Rian’s hand squeezes my shoulder and I fight the urge to push it away. It isn’t the time, now, to ask these questions. The people I love are in danger, and we’re running out of time.

  “We need to get word to the others,” I say. “They need to know to expect an attack.”

  “Word?” There’s a twinkle in Anod’s eye, “We can do better than word. Yes, this falls within the guidelines, I’m certain. Important enough to send you to them straight away.” He winks at Rian. “Prepare yourselves, and return to the Academy in a half-hour. The ceremony will be readied by then. Tell no one.” He stands a little stiffly, and leans to stretch his back.

  “Oh yes, of course.” He turns to Rian and with his thumb draws a symbol over each of his shoulders, then his forehead. A reddish glow hovers in each spot before fading into Rian’s clothing. “I hereby raise you to the Sixteenth Circle. Congratulations, Mentor.” With no further ceremony, he rushes out.

  “Yeah!” Rian shouts, jumping up from his stool. He throws his hand flat, and sparks of light fly from his fingertips in celebratory bursts, and then he dives at me and pulls me up into a hug. We spin in circles until we’re both dizzy and laughing.

  “Congratulations!” I say as he takes my hand, his eyes glinting with excitement.

  “Azi, I have something to ask you,” he says, his tone suddenly serious, “and it’s important that you accept. There isn’t much time.” My head is still spinning with confusion about the protectors and the Wellspring, and I feel as if I should be angry at him for keeping secrets from me, but his sudden switch from elation to utter seriousness jars me.

  “
What is it?” I ask. My hand is shaking in his now and I can’t seem to meet his eyes until he takes my chin and gently raises it up. His eyes are bright with the promise of adventure, and also, as always, there’s that underlying tone of mischief. I wonder how I’ll ever live a day away from those eyes. He takes my other hand and pulls me closer to him, and my pulse quickens as I begin to imagine what the question could possibly be.

  “Will you be my student?” his question leaves me flat.

  “I...what?” I search his face. He’s serious.

  “Will you be my student, Azi? Officially.” He starts to talk so quickly that it’s hard for me to keep up, “I’m a Mentor now, and by the laws I can only take on one student. If you agree, then I can’t be forced to take anyone else. It’s what she was planning. Viala. Master Gaethon had her take me as a student when he left so she couldn’t secretly take Eron. I realize now that he wanted me to fail so she couldn’t force me to teach him in secret, either. So if I took you on, that would solve it. Also, it helps to be bonded in some way if we’re going to be teleporting. I’m sure that’s why Grand Master raised me to sixteenth. And I could tell you everything. All of the secrets.”

  He shifts and steps back a little to read me, and I wonder if I look as beaten as I feel. I’m not a Mage. I don’t ever want to be one. Choosing that path now would feel too much like abandoning everything I’ve worked so hard for.

  “Nothing would change. I don’t even have to actually teach you anything,” he offers as though reading my mind, “It’s just a quick agreement, Azi. A safeguard. There isn’t a lot of time.” His hands tighten around mine.

  “I will,” I say a little hesitantly.

  “Good,” he nods and presses his thumb to my forehead, and a warm tingle comes with the ebb of golden light just above my brow. “That’s done,” he says, and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek, “Now, we have to run home and get ready. I’ll explain on the way.” I abandon my torturous shoes as Rian pulls me through the door, and we sprint off down the narrow passageway in the opposite direction we came from before. I try to keep track of our route, but there are so many bends and openings and doors that I eventually lose count of how many lefts and how many rights we’ve taken. Rian explains the laws of teleportation to me as we run.

  He tells me that it takes a great deal of diplomacy on the part of the Academy, requiring several signatures of approval including the king’s due to the amount of magic required. The spell will send us directly to a Master Mage who has been marked to receive, and thankfully Master Gaethon had himself marked several years ago as a precaution. The law that strikes me as most disappointing is the restriction on metal. Any metal we bring or wear is considered magical payment, which means I can’t wear my armor or bring any weapons, unless they’re made of wood or leather. When I ask him if there is any way around it, he asks me if there’s any way around our feet striking the ground when we run. Magic has a cost, and the cost for this extravagantly expensive spell is payment in precious metals.

  He pushes a door open to reveal a ladder that stretches up overhead at least two stories. I crane my neck and wonder how on earth I’ll manage to climb it in this dress.

  “You go first,” he says, “If you slip, I’ll be right behind you.” It’s tedious and frustrating getting up to the top, especially rushing as we are. I curse the gown several times as it wraps around my knees and tangles at my feet. Eventually, we make it up to the top and I crawl out of a narrow doorway that leads onto a cobbled street that glows in the lamplight. We’ve emerged right outside of the glass blower’s stall, which is just a block away from home if we take the alley shortcut.

  “No more gowns,” I puff as we trot to the alley’s opening, “Ever again.” I can’t wait to be rid of the cumbersome thing. We reach the end and Rian skids to a stop.

  “Brace yourself,” he says, looking at my front door, “Mouli’s waiting up.”

  “Oh...” I look down at the dress, which hangs heavy and damp from my frame. The once crisp pleats have fallen and rumpled, the hem is crusted with street filth, and many of the threads that caught on the rough stone have torn to gaping holes. One trailing sleeve is nearly torn off at the elbow. I imagine I stepped on it climbing up the ladder. “She’s going to kill me.”

  “We don’t have time for that,” he whispers, and waves a hand over me, and I watch in wonder as the dress is transformed. The grime falls away and the holes close up. The sleeve repairs itself, and the pleats reform to even crisper lines than they had been when I first got dressed. I turn slightly, and the golden fabric shimmers in the lamplight. He looks at me, inspecting his work, “Not bad,” he grins. “Remember, no metal. We have just a few minutes, so hurry and change and only pack what you need. Don’t worry about food.”

  “Are we telling Mouli and Luca what we’re up to? What about Da?” I ask. Rian nods.

  “I think they should know. Your father...” he pauses, thinking, “It may be best to leave him sleeping. If something happens to me, the spell will break. If all goes well, I can remove it easily enough.” It’s too painful to think of something happening to Rian. I push the thought away.

  “I wish he could come with us,” I gaze up at my bedroom window and picture him sleeping in his own room, just beyond it. Rian strokes my cheek.

  “I know,” he says. “Come on.”

  In my room, I explain as much as I can while Mouli helps me out of my gown and all of the constricting undergarments that it requires. She takes them away to store them, and I scratch my stomach and sides with great relief as I rush into the dressing room. I pull out a thick pair of work trousers and a long-sleeved tunic. Out of habit I grab the belt I usually wear, but it has a metal buckle, and so I opt for a sash instead. As I tie it, Flit’s diamond glints at my wrist, catching my eye. I rush to the hatch and push it open. Rian’s is open already. He’s rushing around his room, back in his familiar blue robes again.

  “Is this okay?” I ask, holding up the diamond. He comes over and looks at it carefully, then nods.

  “It should be fine. Are you almost ready?”

  “I think so. I’ll meet you downstairs.” I look around my room and my eyes rest on the stand that holds my chain mail. I trail my fingers along the smooth, cool rings and sigh. It’s the last thing I’d expect to be leaving behind at a time like this, but as Rian said, if I try to bring it, it’ll be lost forever. I don’t have time to dwell on it. Even my sword will remain. I feel too light, too exposed as I grab the cross-body bag that holds little more than an extra set of clothes. I can’t think of anything else I’d need that fits within the laws. I look around the room and I wonder if this is the last time I’ll stand here. Flit’s pitcher lies empty on the windowsill, and I realize that I haven’t felt or heard from her since she whispered to me in the underground room.

  “Flit?” I call quietly, “Are you here?” I hear the front door close, and Rian and Luca making hurried arrangements downstairs. There’s no answer from Flit, and I can’t help but worry as I rush into the hallway. I turn toward my father’s room and pause. I want to say goodbye, and I will my feet to push me forward through his door, but I can’t. It’s too difficult to think it might be the last time I ever see him.

  “He’ll be okay,” Rian says softly behind me. “Promise.” He slips his hand into mine, “come on, we can’t be late.”

  We offer our rushed farewells to Mouli and Luca, who both promise that everything will be safe in their care while we’re away. I can’t tell if I’m imagining the hint of finality in Mouli’s voice, and there’s no time to dwell on it as Rian and I rush back to the Academy. Master Anod is waiting for us outside of the entrance and when he ushers us through, he turns to Rian with a nod.

  “Good thinking, Mentor,” he says as I step across the threshold and my forehead tingles where Rian pressed his thumb to it earlier. “That makes things much less complicated.”

  “There are wards on the door which keep everyone but students from entering,” Rian explains
quietly as we are ushered into an atrium of highly polished white marble.

  As I gaze around at the circular space, I can’t help but feel a little disappointed. All of my life I have passed by the grand and imposing Academy buildings, imagining how wonderful it must be inside. The only thing remarkable about this stark white room is how bright it is despite the late hour, which is about to strike midnight. There are no paintings on the walls, no carvings of relief in the shining white marble. Even the marble itself bears no veins or markings at all. After a moment I realize how very quiet the space is, too. The sound of our footsteps and the movement of Rian and Anod’s robes are completely silent. The effect is slightly dizzying, and I’m relieved when Anod opens one of twenty doors on the opposite wall and motions us through.

  When the door closes behind us with an audible click, we are immediately surrounded by a corridor full of tiny, floating globes of multicolored light. They remind me of drifting, rainbow-colored snowflakes. Master Anod and Rian raise their arms out to their sides and I mimic the motion. I feel a sense of curiosity emanating from the orbs as they drift around us, changing color. Several of them cling to the diamond tucked into the weave of my bracelet. Rian’s travel bag seems to be covered in them, many are stuck to a button of his vest, and a few others are attracted to the places in his robes where I know there to be hidden pockets. When Master Anod turns to us, the entirety of his robes is covered in them. His eyes glint with amusement at Rian, and then me.

  “Ah,” he nods at my wrist. “It seems that we are not the only ones with secrets, eh, Mentor Rian?” The globes that cling to my diamond are pulsing a soft, friendly yellow, while Rian’s are a mix of green, blue, and purple. The orbs on Master Anod continue to fade through the entire spectrum as Rian leans to me.