by J. B. Markes
"Stop saying that," I fired back. "That's not even a thing. It's just something you made up."
"I don't have to listen to this twaddle. Who's to say if something's a thing? I say it is."
Chalke's voice echoed in the stairwell as we neared the bottom steps. "Oh, please just shut up. Both of you."
"Get ready to move," Gustobald said.
"No. He has two wands."
"All right, I'm going to do it."
"Don't do it," I said.
"What possessed anyone to send for you two screw-ups in the first place is beyond my capacity." Chalke couldn't see the change that came over Gustobald's face. If he could, he might have struck the old man down then and there. When I saw Gustobald clench his fists, I sent Zephyr flapping down the hallway directly above the sentinel. The necromancer spun on his heel just as Chalke was ducking the fleeing pigeon.
"Hrahhallar!" Gustobald unleashed a wicked crackle of dark energy that twisted and bolted like an electric current. It struck Chalke clean in the stomach, the black streak turning white at the point of contact. The necromancer held the connection, the suspended stream coiling wildly. The sentinel raised his arm to counter but struggled to get his wand higher than waist-level. His strength had left him. I waved a hand and knocked his wand down the hallway. When he fell to his knees, Gustobald canceled the spell and Chalke fell forward onto his stomach.
"Did you just kill him?" I asked.
"He'll be fine in a day or two," the necromancer said. "Or perhaps a week. And with more respect for necromancers, too."
"We're going to be executed." I raised my hand and called Chalke's wand to me, waving it in a safe direction. It was protected by a command word, which I didn't know. Sentinels were the untrusting sort.
"Think of Lord Ashdown, Miss Ives. Trust me. Lives are in the balance."
"I didn't see any battle when I flew over," I said. "The Sentinels are probably waiting for nightfall."
"Once we get a diviner, we'll have this whole mess straightened out and this altercation will just be a funny story to tell."
I couldn't take my eyes off of Chalke. "Maybe we'll just go to the Hold."
"Let's get moving before someone sees us standing over him."
"The Second Sentinels don't have a diviner in Astar and the First Sentinels will probably arrest us—that's if we can find any." I called Zephyr back and tossed Chalke's wand on the floor. "Come on, then. There's still one person I trust."
Chapter 21
The corridors were empty of Sentinels. We passed the occasional guard, but we weren't heading for the West Walk where the royal family stayed, so they didn't bother us. Gustobald had a determined way about him when we were on the hunt, and it deterred interruptions. We reached Airlea's personal quarters and knocked twice, but I was too nervous to wait around in the hallway.
I barely remembered the path Sentinel Chalke took days ago when he led me to the astrologist's lab. I got lost twice along the way and had to double back to find the correct hall. Gustobald huffed incessantly, both from disappointment at my poor memory and his own lack of physical exercise. All things considered, I was feeling great, in top shape with no problem keeping the brisk pace.
We reached the hallway leading to the cave tunnel, so I cast a light spell. "Come on. There's a doorway here. It's hidden by illusion, but I can find it." Gustobald opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't manage anything more than gasping for breath. I sighed and gave him a pat on the back. "It's all the smoking, you know."
The hallway was longer than I remembered, but I couldn't be certain; I was stressed during my first visit and hadn't paid close attention. We walked at speed for about ten minutes before I finally allowed Gustobald another break. I still couldn't see the end of the hallway. I chanted the darksight spell and blinked my eyes a couple times to adjust. There were no fungus on the walls and I couldn't even smell the earthiness of the tunnel.
"Something's wrong," I said. "We should definitely be there by now." I shouted Airlea's name hoping she would come and find us, but the lab was insulated from outside noise, which was common when wizards were trying to focus on their work. "I don't understand."
"This place is warded," Gustobald said. "Some enchantment is hoodwinking our senses—old magic. It would take a powerful banisher to dispel it, and there are few who even follow that path anymore. We're out of luck without an invitation. How did you pass last time?"
"Sentinel Chalke led me through." I scanned the walls and realized we had been standing still for some time, despite my feeling that we had never stopped. When we turned around I could smell the clay again. Zephyr was wandering about the floor. "To be honest, I didn't trust him so I was watching his hands the whole time. I wasn't even looking at the tunnel."
"It's an enchantment," Gustobald said. "But you say the entrance is an illusion; maybe it's all an illusion. Maybe the two are tied together."
"I think we've been standing here in a daze the whole time," I said. "Maybe we could close our eyes."
"If we do it blind, we'll miss the entrance altogether. Or trip and break our necks."
"Grab the back of my robe and close your eyes," I said, doing the same as I turned back to the tunnel. I ran my hand up the wall until my fingertips brushed the ceiling. I followed the ceiling to the wall and stayed tight against its course wet surface. "Grab on. Follow me and don't let go."
The rough rock eventually receded into damp clay. The only sound in the hallway was the scraping of feet and Gustobald's labored breathing. It was slow going, and Gustobald grumbled every so often to remind me that time was precious. I shouldered past a bit of lichen and felt it break off and fall to the floor, landing on my foot. The unexpected movement startled me and felt like a rat was creeping across my toes, but I didn't dare open my eyes. I knew I was getting close when I heard the trickling water.
"Almost there," I said just as my fingers hit the blank wand I had left behind as a marker. I didn't pull it out of the clay, as the moisture had probably ruined the wood by now. Instead, I shielded my face with my hand as a precaution and then walked into the wall. I knew it was safe to open my eyes as soon as I sensed the light through my eyelids.
When I pulled Gustobald through, he chuckled. "Well done, Miss Ives. Well done, indeed! How the devil did you pull it off?"
"There was nothing to it," I said, pretending not to notice his astonishment. "Simple, really."
Gustobald was as impressed as I had first been with the lab facilities. He momentarily forgot our mission in order to poke around one of the shelves displaying exotic spell components.
"Airlea!" I called, rushing around the tables to see around the storage shelves in the back. "She's not here. You don't think she's left the capital?"
"What?" Gustobald looked at me as if I had spoken a foreign language. "And leave all this behind?"
"Good point, but King Eamon did dismiss her father, remember? Told him to turn cards out in the street."
"Oh yes," the old man said with a chuckle. "That was funny. But we have heard His Majesty mention decapitation two or three times since we've arrived. I'd wager that the threat of banishment is a daily occurrence for Master Xavier, particularly for a man of his ineptitude."
"What do we do?"
"This is a diviner's laboratory," Gustobald said. "Perhaps they have a scroll we might use. Check the archives and let me know if you find any spells of knowing. I'll check for potions or wands."
"That's a good idea," I said.
"I've been known to have a few," he replied.
I did as instructed, leaving Gustobald to wander among the tables and stands while I did the hard work. Airlea's library and alchemical ingredients were well-stocked, but the rear shelves were overflowing with knowledge. Scrolls heaped high, not a single shelf was bare. Many papers had even spilled over onto the floor.
Unfortunately, the catalogue was as neglected as the rest of the lab. Over time, scrolls had been scribed, filed, dug out, misplaced, set aside, los
t, forgotten, and—perhaps accidentally—found again. Some of them were color-coded with ribbons, but the majority was unmarked. To make matters worse, not all of them were spells. Abjurations were mixed with invocations and blank papers, wards with bills of receipt. I found a spell of summoning physically attached to a sheet of music. After five minutes of unfurling scrolls, I found my first divination, marked Know Language. It was useless; it would take days to weed through the sheaves.
"It would take a diviner to find anything in here!" I called out, but Gustobald didn't answer.
I decided to focus my efforts entirely on the scrolls with ribbons. Assuming there was a system, if I could learn which color was divination, I could ignore all else. I pulled a red first and it was titledThundercloud, a manifestation. According to a scroll labeledCatform, green was transmutation. My third try was purple: Read Other, a popular enchantment for a mind mage.
I grabbed a black-ribboned scroll, assuming it was an illusion spell, but I couldn't even make out the title. Of course, spells are often protected from viewing; others are spelltrapped to ward against the unwary wizard, but this was different. I couldn't even read it, but I did recognize the shape of the language. Of course it would be black.
I pulled the prince's glasses from my pocket and slipped them on. A quick scan of the title heading revealed Jar of Holding. I gave up the hunt, instead searching my memory for something that eluded me. I left the catalogue and took the scroll with me, wandering without seeing. Gustobald called my name, but I couldn't take my eyes from the scroll. I weaved through the tables, back to the small library and the writing table just beyond. The table was empty.
"What have you there?" Gustobald said, appearing at my side and sliding the scroll out of my fingers. "Did you steal those glasses?"
"It's a scroll of necromancy," I said, hiding the spectacles in my pocket. "And there were others on this desk days ago. Right here. And now they're gone."
He unrolled the paper and raised an eyebrow, then grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face him. "Are you certain?"
"They were right here," I said, rapping the table. "Burned ones. Spent scrolls. Someone was casting necromancy here."
"Not someone," he said. "There are few who could even reach this room, let alone read a scroll. Tell me what else you saw."
"There was a pile of glass next to the scrolls, broken gems of some sort. I thought they were light crystals like yours. What does it mean?"
Gustobald stuffed the scroll in his satchel and walked to the storage area at the back of the room, where many boxes were stacked against the wall. "Break them open!" He shouted and tossed the lids off one by one, rummaging through each box for a few seconds before moving on to the next. Empty spellbooks and prepared parchment, glass beakers and boiling flasks, briquettes for the furnaces, everything one would expect to find in a lab. I helped him search until we had run through every container.
"What are we looking for?" I asked.
"Take a guess," he said, running his hands along the back wall and chanting. As he neared the corner, there was a loud click and the stone swung open to reveal a small compartment within the wall. At his prodding, I stuck my hand between the gap and leaned back, pulling the stone free and untombing the lifeless body of Prince Jasper. The young man was laid on his side, with the appearance of someone taking a nap, but his chest wasn't moving.
"Gods, be merciful," I said, daring to touch Jasper's cold skin. "He's dead. And not long by the looks of it."
"Be careful of appearances," Gustobald said, leaning in for a close inspection. "Still think it wasn't Xavier?"
"It wasn't," I said, closing my eyes as it all fell into place. "It was Airlea."
There were hurried footsteps beating the stone behind us. We turned, but there was nothing to see. We simultaneously readied the truesight spell, but Gustobald was faster. He grumbled to himself and pointed to the doorway, but my sight took effect after the person had cleared the room.
"There goes the only person you trust," he said. "And I trust you brought your wand, Miss Ives."
I adjusted the training wand on my wrist. "Not exactly, but I can cast if I need to."
"You need to," he replied. "Chase her down while I send a message to the king and find the Seeker. Lord Ashdown's life is in our hands now. We need to stop this massacre before it begins, if it hasn't already."
I wasted no time heading for the door, flexing my fingers in preparation.
"And have a care!" He called after me. "She may be an astrologist—"
The rest of his message was cut off the instant I left the room. I sprinted down the earthen tunnel, worried I would lose her, but my truesight kept her visible. It was still difficult to make her out in the dark. " Saenghara Kra—" I tried the life-sight spell, but it was twice as hard while running. "Airlea, stop!"
I was gaining on her, but she was fast approaching the turn. Soon she would be completely out of sight. I slowed down long enough for a complex chant. "Aejuaruumnai!" I formed a circle and unleashed a frozen orb which sped down the tunnel in a subtle arc. Airlea disappeared around the bend just as the orb exploded into a huge block of ice, sealing off the tunnel right at the corner.
I cursed and quickened my pace. When I reached the blockade, I sent two quick flame jets into the ice to no avail. Cursing, I placed my hand on the frozen barrier and chanted, sublimating it directly to steam, but it was taking too long. Soon she would be out of reach forever. Finally, I moved my hand to the point where the ice met the foundation and detonated the stone, which took a large portion of the ice with it, giving me just enough room to crawl through and resume the chase.
She was approaching the next turn already, but I didn't dare try to block her again. The next instant Zephyr flew by my head in pursuit. The bird was fast. When he rounded the corner, I saw briefly through his eyes, but he didn't have the magical sight to make her visible. Follow! I was getting tired, but when I rounded the corner she was back in my field of vision, and much closer.
"Airlea, stop or I'll strike you down!" I loosed a streak of lightning from my hand, aiming low to avoid hitting my bird. The bolt crackled harmlessly against an invisible barrier. She was well-protected by any number of artifacts. "She's rich," I said, shaking my head.
She turned her wand on me, releasing a lightning bolt of her own, but I dove back around the corner for cover as the bolt rebounded back the way it came, its hollow echoes popping my eardrums. I took a deep breath to gather my wits. I felt loose now that I had made a few casts. The familiar buzz would keep me spell-ready.
It was a grave error for her to reveal the alignment of her wand before she had a clear shot, but with her wealth it was possible she had other elements at her disposal. I jumped back into Zephyr's mind and was pleased to see her invisibility had dropped the moment she brandished her spellstick.
But she was on the move again, so I took the corner at full speed. The hallways were starting to branch out now and the guards were beginning to take notice of the ruckus. Airlea was in all-out retreat and shouting for help.
Two men dutifully answered her call to arms, drawing swords and coming directly for me, but these were not Sentinels. I stopped just long enough to stir up wind with my hand, creating a tunnel of air that pushed them down and flung them to the side. One guard was swept into the wall and the other was tossed down an adjacent hallway.
"Sorry," I said just loud enough for myself to hear. I glanced to see if they were okay as I ran by, but I couldn't stop to check on them.
When I took my eye off Airlea I lost her, but Zephyr still had her in sight. He was out in the open air now, circling the God's Eye in the light of the gibbous moon. On the silver platform below, Airlea's yellow robes were vivid in the reflected light. I took a deep breath, rubbed my eyes, and climbed the stairs, spying her through my familiar's keen vision.
I thought she might jump. Barring any magical items it was unlikely she could fly away, but it would be a simple spell for her to glide safely to the
ground and disappear into a different part of the palace. Ultimately, she was either too tired or too confident to run any farther. There would be nowhere for her to hide once the Sentinels learned what she had done.
I could see the moon through the opening at the top of the stairs and it reminded me of Airlea's dark prophecy. You must leave this place before the full moon. She had been right about the visitor with bad tidings. She had predicted my death, but technically that had already come and gone. When I reached the top of the staircase she held her wand at the ready. She had been right about everything. One way or another, this duel was going to happen.
Chapter 22
The moon dipped in and out of the heavy bulbous clouds as the sky rumbled softly. The wind felt good at first, but soon became a cold distraction. Even in the shelter of the staircase, the chill pierced the light fabric of my robes and stung my sweaty neck and face. Airlea had been outside longer and was feeling its effects more acutely. I stopped as soon as we made eye contact. She stared me down, her wand hand shivering.
"Is this what you saw in your reading?" I asked. I held my hand out in front of me as a precaution and felt a single fat raindrop land on my finger. "You were so desperate for me to leave Astar. Did you see this duel? Did you lose this duel?"
She tilted her head forward slightly and stood straight with her free hand open at her side. It was the same posture all novice duelists learn from the day they are issued their first training wands. With time and practice, a mage develops her own stance as she becomes more comfortable with her craft. Airlea had led a sheltered life at the palace, with little impetus to hone her basic skills.
"You pretended to be my friend so I wouldn't suspect you." I cracked my knuckles.
"I didn't pretend," she said, her lip quivering. "I liked you, Isabel, but I don't have any friends. I can't afford it."
"Except for one," I replied. "Prince Jasper had many girls competing for his attention. Meridale was talking about you when she said that, wasn't she? You were lovers. And he was about to marry another woman."
