Shadowed by Death

by Jane Beckstead

  settle over me and pass through me, flickering along my skin.

  Its glimmer and gleam lit the air above me, and then all at once

  turned to green ash, falling to the dais in a perfect ring

  around me.

  What did that mean? I looked to Master Wendyn with wide

  eyes, and then at the proctor, who heaved a sigh and ran a hand

  over his face. He waved a hand, and Council guards, four of

  them, slipped from the crowd and ascended the dais steps. Guards. I had failed the test. They knew I was a girl. I took a step backward, wondering if I should run. My eyes

  caught the master’s, and he made a subtle gesture with his hand.

  Calm, he gestured, using the hand-speak Ivan and I had invented

  in order to communicate. If I wasn’t so terrified, I’d be

  impressed that he remembered the gesture. Ivan and I had been impressed that he remembered the gesture. Ivan and I had beenBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 13

  trying to teach him the language for months.

  Two of the guards flanked me, and when I glanced at Master

  Wendyn, I saw that he, too, had a guard on either side. I didn’t

  know how he remained so calm. Every part of me felt alive, lit

  by terror.

  But if the master could remain calm, I certainly wasn’t

  about to disgrace him by falling apart. Especially not with so

  many people watching.

  “This way,” the guard to my left said, and tugged at my

  arm. I followed his pull. Down the dais steps, past the privacy

  spell, into the loud chatter.

  Behind me the proctor announced, “Underwizard Mullins has

  failed the gender test and will be escorted from the room for

  further questioning.”

  My head dropped, and I stared at my feet as I shuffled

  toward my fate.

  # CHAPTER TWO I didn’t think I’d ever been so miserable in my entire life. Would they make my Punishment quick and horrible? Or drawn out as painful as possible? Would they Punish Master Wendyn too, or was there something I could do to save him?

  I had to tell them he knew nothing, that he was innocent. I had to lie my head off.

  We left the testing room by way of a door along the north wall behind the dais. It led into a corridor with various rooms on the right and left. The guards led me into a doorway on the right, a low-ceilinged room with dim lighting. I stopped short on the threshold.

  It was full to overflowing with underwizards.

  There were boys of every sort—short, tall, thick, thin, Noviates and Adepts and Scholars and even the unranked.

  “Another?” sighed a clerk. He had a fine sheen of sweat along his forehead and hair sticking out in various directions as though he’d shoved his fingers through it a few times. He poised a pencil over the clipboard in his arms. “Your name, Underwizard?”

  “Avery Mullins.” I tried not to let my voice quake. I couldn’t say for certain if I succeeded.

  He scribbled on the parchment. “Put him—or her—in that chair over there.” He gestured vaguely. “You'll be questioned in chair over there.” He gestured vaguely. “You'll be questioned inBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 15

  a little while—” he consulted the clipboard again “—Mullins, was it?” The guards led me to the chair. Did they think I'd bolt if they let go of me? I sank into the seat and folded in on myself, hugging my middle and wondering if this was the last room I’d see before I died.

  Somewhere to my left someone sniffled with sobs. Somewhere to my right too, once I looked around. In fact, most of the youngest boys in the room were in tears.

  This didn’t make me feel any better, as I feared I was close to crying myself.

  “Ssst,” the boy to my left hissed.

  I glanced over to encounter a ruddy-cheeked redhead staring at me.

  “So,” he whispered, “failed too, huh?”

  Before I could reply, the boy across from me—a black-haired youth with prominent eyebrows—snorted. “Oh, this one’s a genius. Alert the Council. PMW in the making right here.” He shook his head. “Of course he failed. We all failed that stupid test.”

  The redhead barely glanced at him. “Are you a girl?” he whispered to me. “Because I’m not.”

  The boy across from me snorted again. “None of us are girls. It’s that stupid spell. It’s way too inaccurate to be of any use to the Council. Wrong on all these counts? We can’t all be girls.”

  “Yes,” the redhead said, “but perhaps some of us are.”

  To my right, a young boy—one of the few young ones not in tears—said in a small voice, “What if it’s the underwizards who didn’t fail that are girls?”

  I began to feel marginally better.

  “That’s enough,” the man with the clipboard said.

  We sat in silence for some time.

  Along the north wall a door led into an office. Every few minutes a middle-aged wizard with a thick black beard came to the door, talked to the man with the clipboard, and called an underwizard inside.

  What were they talking about in there? And where did they take the underwizards once they were done? Straight to the mountain for Punishment?

  But we couldn’t all be girls. Or even some of us. After a thorough glance around, I’d put money on the fact that nobody in here was a girl.

  Except for me.

  Time passed, though I couldn’t say how much. Seven more underwizards joined us, following in the way I came. Each time the commiserating began anew, at least until the man with the clipboard made us stop talking. The guards had to bring more chairs to accommodate us all. There were forty-one underwizards crammed into the small room.

  More counting to distract myself.

  The door to the office opened, and the bearded wizard came out long enough to call “Woods, Harry” inside. Underwizard Woods entered the office ahead of the master wizard. The door closed behind them with finality, and the clipboard-holder muttered something about checking to see whether the trials had concluded yet. He left.

  “Hey,” the redhead next to me said, “Any idea what they’re doing in there?”

  I looked around at the smaller boys, some of whom were still crying. “I’m sure he’s explaining this is all a mistake,” I said, loud enough that my voice reached the corners of the room. “And then he’s apologizing.”

  The redhead nodded. “Oh yeah. And then I bet he’s giving them an automatic pass on their trial.”

  “And a pass on the next trial too,” the boy to my right said.

  “Or all the trials!” said a boy across the room.

  The sniffing in the room quieted.

  “I’m surrounded by idiots,” the black-haired boy with the eyebrows said.

  The redhead leaned closer to ask, “Say, what’s your name, anyway?”

  “Avery.”

  “Rumford.” He held a hand out and I shook it.

  “Where did you get a name like Rumford?”

  “I know it’s a little… well, pretentious. My friends call me Rummy, if that makes it any better. You’re a Novitiate, I see?”

  I made a face. “Would have been an Adept, if I’d passed the trial.” I gestured at his robes, with their stripe of purple at the sleeves and the collar that signifies an Adept underwizard, one who had passed level ten. “You already are, I see. What level?”

  “Thirteen." Gloom permeated his voice. “If everything had gone as planned, I would have been fourteen. One away from a Scholar.”

  The surrounding conversations picked up, encouraged by the absence of the clipboard-holding clerk. “You don’t think we’ll die, do you?” one of the younger boys said in a quavery voice, loud enough that most of us could hear. “I’m not even a girl.”

  “And we are?” the black-haired boy said. “Do I look like a girl?”

  The boy sniffled.

  “Leave him alone,” I said. �
��He’s scared.”

  Black Hair opened his mouth to retort, but Rumford spoke before he could. “Don’t worry. None of us are girls. It’s all a mistake. That’s why they’re bringing us in one at a time. So they can fix it.”

  The door opened, and the bearded wizard stepped into the doorway. “Colwyn Trumble,” he called out. Black Hair stood. I doorway. “Colwyn Trumble,” he called out. Black Hair stood. IBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 19

  noted the purple at his sleeves and collar. He was an Adept as well. The door closed behind them. I wondered where Master Wendyn was right now. Was he being interrogated—or worse? And why was the Council doing this? Why now? Why add a gender test at all?

  More time passed. It felt like hours. Rumford regaled the younger wizards with tales of miscast spells and potions gone awry. It was a pleasant distraction and drew more than a few laughs. But every time the bearded wizard returned and called in another underwizard, solemnity returned.

  Once Rumford disappeared into the office, a quiet descended upon us once again, and I was left to my own tortured thoughts.

  “Mullins, Avery.”

  I glanced up in surprise. I supposed I’d gotten so used to hearing every name but my own that I’d forgotten to expect it.

  “Right here.” I stood, looking around the room I’d spent the last several hours in. There were less than ten underwizards left. I entered the office, and the door closed behind me.

  “Have a seat.” The bearded wizard gestured at several chairs opposite a desk. I picked one and sat. The room was warm and dim, although perhaps that was because the sun had set. It was evening already.

  “I’m Master DeWitt.” He sank into the chair behind the desk. “The unlucky sap tasked with interviewing you.”

  I cleared my throat. “Interviewing me why? I don’t I cleared my throat. “Interviewing me why? I don’tBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 20

  understand why any of this is happening. My gender affidavits are on file. I am not a girl. I—” He held up a hand. “Save it. I’ve heard the same thing from all thirty-seven of the underwizards I interviewed before you.” He swore and hit the desk with his fist. “Foolhardy task that it is. That spell has proved itself useless. Thirty-seven false positives? And more sitting out there in that waiting room?” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have yet to meet an actual girl in this room, and I doubt I will.” He sighed and dropped his hand. “But since I have to do this by the book…” He raised his hands and uttered the words of a spell.

  Friar’s bones. That was a deception defense. I sat up straighter in my chair. I was familiar with the pain of this spell, having gone afoul of it before. Given a choice, I’d rather not do so again.

  But I doubted I'd have a choice.

  “This should be painless, assuming you tell the truth in all your answers. What I'll do is verify your vital statistics and personal information, you'll give an honest answer, and then you can go on your way. More or less.”

  “More or less?” I repeated.

  “Here we go.” He picked up his quill, dipped it in ink, and poised it over the parchment before him. “Your name?”

  “Avery Mullins.”

  He marked the parchment before him. “Your age?”

  Beckstead / Shadowed by Death / 21 “Eighteen. Today’s my natalis.”

  “Oh.” He grimaced. “Lousy way to spend your day of birth. Sorry about that.” He made more notations on the paper. “Where are you from?”

  “Howchister.”

  “Parents’ names?”

  “Ida and Jasper Muggins.”

  “Your master?”

  “Garrick Wendyn.”

  “Rank?”

  “Novitiate Underwizard, level nine." I rubbed my nose. "Should’ve been ten, though,” I muttered.

  More marks on the paper, and then he stared at the pen’s tip and picked up the inkwell to study it. “And I shouldn’t have had to interview all these falsely accused underwizards all day long.” He put the inkwell down and rose. “But someone with more authority than I thought it was a good idea.” He strode to a bookcase in the corner and opened a box there. “I’ve got a headache so bad I may as well have had a deception defense whammy put on me too. Anyway, you can always take trial ten again, assuming you pass this interview. And no one’s failed yet.” He pulled out a black vial and fiddled with it. “Are you a girl?”

  He still wasn’t looking at me. I took a breath, steeled myself, and spit the answer out as quickly as possible. myself, and spit the answer out as quickly as possible.Beckstead / Shadowed by Death / 22

  “Absolutely not.” Hammer-like pain hit the back of my head, and it took everything in me to remain upright. My sight went dark and I fought to stay in my chair. Sound roared in my ears.

  “… astonished… underwizard… girl.”

  Pieces of DeWitt’s words came through the fog of pain. The only thing I was sure of was the sarcasm in his tone.

  I blinked and blinked and blinked, and the blackness receded. Master DeWitt came into focus, back in the chair across from me, twisting the vial as he tried to remove the lid. I didn't know what he had just said, but I hoped it wasn’t important.

  Also, I wished I could think past the thumping in my head.

  I rubbed at my watery eyes, noted my hands were shaking, and clenched them in my lap. “Are there more questions?”

  “Not until I get more ink. How do you get the lid off this thing?”

  I clenched my jaw against the pain. “Don’t know.”

  “Ah, there it is.” He twisted the lid off and tilted the vial into the inkwell. “Now, where was I?”

  I gritted my teeth.

  “Ah, yes. Are you a girl?”

  Friar’s bones, he wouldn't make me answer that again, would he?

  “Oh no, you already answered that. Never mind. Not a girl.” “Oh no, you already answered that. Never mind. Not a girl.”Beckstead / Shadowed by Death / 23

  He dipped his pen in the ink and made more notations on the parchment. “There. That does it.” I was probably staring at him stupidly, because he looked at me straight on, putting his pen down. “You’re not going to cry, are you? I can't handle any more of that at this point.” He put his pen down. “Here’s all you need to know. My notations of this interview will go in your permanent file, and you can retake whatever trial you sat for today on the next trial day.”

  I forced myself to nod even though the pounding in my head made me want to vomit. I couldn’t comprehend the meaning of half those words he’d just said. “Then… then I can go?” I managed.

  “Yes. You’re free.” He waved at the door. “It’s been a fascinating interlude for me as well.”

  “Thank you.” I stood and move toward the door, doing my best to remain upright.

  “Off the record, you might want to wait a few months to take any trials. It's unlikely Robenhurst will give up on his special spell without a fight. If he doesn’t get the gender spell sorted, there’s a chance something like this will happen the next time you take a trial too.”

  I swiveled and squinted at him. “You’re saying I might fail again?”

  He nodded. “It’s possible.”

  “But… you said it’s a false positive.”

  “Even so. If Robenhurst thinks there’s the possibility of “Even so. If Robenhurst thinks there’s the possibility ofBeckstead / Shadowed by Death / 24

  even one girl that’s an underwizard, he’ll do everything he can to find her.” “And… he thinks there’s one?” My voice sounded faint in my ears.

  “You didn’t hear it from me,” DeWitt said, running a hand over his beard, “but he thinks there’s more than one. Far more.”

  A chill ran through me—and a question. Were there other girls out there like me, disguising themselves as boys to learn magic? Was I not unique at all?

  DeWitt strode past me and opened a door leading to the corridor. “Underwizard,” he said, nodding. “The Council thanks you for your time.”
r />   I tottered into the hallway, my mind spinning with pain—and questions.

  #

  CHAPTER THREE

  The door closed behind me. I took a deep breath and leaned my head back against the solid wood, eyes closed.

  I hadn’t been found out. At least for the moment.

  Something brushed my arm, and I jumped, eyes flying open.

  “So. I guess you’re not a girl.” Rumford stood before me, a lopsided grin sprawled across his ruddy face. He wiped a sleeve across his forehead, the fabric obscuring his expression before it swung away again and revealed a smile. “Crabapples, that was intense.”

  Beckstead / Shadowed by Death / 25 “Yeah.” I stretched fingers against my thighs, releasing tension from hands clenched into fists for too long. “Why are you still here?”

  He scratched at the back of his head absently. “Thought I’d see how you made out. You weren’t as hideously unfriendly as some in there.”

  “Oh. Thanks, I guess.”

  “I guess this explains why a Council member interviewed my gender-affidavit-swearers last month. They think girls have invaded our ranks.” He shrugged casually, as though his words hadn’t just sent a bolt of fear shooting through me.

  “Your affidavit swearers? They were interviewed?” My mind bounced to my own swearers, upon whom I had cast a weak forgetful spell so they would forget the lie they had told on my behalf and the magic we had used.

  “Sure. Weren’t yours? I heard they were interviewing everybody’s. Big job, though. Maybe they haven’t gotten to them all yet. Come on, let’s find our masters.”

  “I—all right.” I fell into step beside him, though my mind raged with questions as we headed down the dingy corridor. My forgetful spell would be no match for an experienced Council wizard, should he detect any weaknesses in their testimony. To think that my whole underwizard career hinged on those three men. “Do you think it’s true? That there are girl underwizards?”

  “Dunno. What’s all the fuss about girl magicians anyway?” “Dunno. What’s all the fuss about girl magicians anyway?”Beckstead / Shadowed by Death / 26

  He looked around as though to be sure we weren’t overheard. “If they can do magic, let ‘em. That’s what I say.” I bit my lip and tried not to stare sideways at him. Those were dangerous words, if he truly believed them. Or was it a trap? Perhaps the Council had planted him here to suss out my sympathies. I should choose my next words carefully. “Not everybody feels that way,” I finally said.