Kale fingered one of the daggers on his bandoleer as he approached the hooded man. His face was hidden in the shadows of his cloak, but he appeared unkempt and dirty, like other street dwellers he encountered.
“You lookin’ for a way in? To see the wizards?” The man took a step backward, further obscuring himself in the shadows.
“Maybe.” Kale wasn’t sure what to think of this human. He smelled of moldy cheese, dung, and stale sweat. Kale supposed hygiene was not one of the man’s priorities in life.
“No way in, unless you’re a wizard yourself. But, I knows a secret way.”
Kali scoffed. “I’ll bet you do. And all we have to do is follow you, right? We weren’t hatched yesterday.”
“No, no.” The man shook his head. He produced a small bag from inside his cloak and bounced it in his hand. Kale heard the jingle of coins. “I tells you the way, and you sneaks inside. Grabs something for me. Then you gets paid. Get you in, get me thing, and we all happy, yes?”
“Sounds easy enough.” Kali stepped closer to the man, resting her hand on the hilt of her blade. “What thing? What is it?”
“Kali, I don’t know if we should steal anything from wizards. They might turn us into something unnatural.”
Kali shot him a look. “Says the only drak with wings in Muncifer.”
“Oh, yeah. Wings on drak. You jump over wall to escape. Fast, quiet. They not catch you.”
The smelly man sparked an idea in Kale. He pulled Kali away from him, toward the main street. “Hey, he’s got a point. If we can climb just to the top of one of the nearby tall buildings, I can glide us to the top of the wall.”
“Oh, I’m sure the wizards will never see us coming.” Kali pointed to the sky above the Arcane University. “There’s not a lot of cover there.”
Kale considered her point. “So? Why would they even be looking up? They’re safe, deep in a city, teaching. They don’t have to worry about invaders from above. Who’d be crazy enough to rob a wizard school anyway?”
They both looked at the hooded man. He flashed a smile before he turned and ran down the alley. Kali took Kale’s arm. “Well, there goes our chance.”
“He was probably crazy anyway. I don’t want to rob wizards. Seriously, you know how easily upset Delilah can be, and how powerful she is. Imagine making a whole school full of Delilah’s angry?”
Kali leaned her head on Kale’s shoulder. “I kind of like the idea of taking a glide with you. Maybe we should try that. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Kale envisioned plenty of negative possibilities. They could crash into a building. They could crash into an ill-tempered wizard. The wizards might have some sort of enchanted shield over the university. Maybe they executed trespassers. He told her as much.
“That seems extreme.”
“Let’s go find me a cloak and look around the undercity. Now that I’ve had time to think about this, I’d rather risk a mob of admirers than the anger of a wizard.”
Chapter 9
After spending all the first day scrubbing cauldrons with Katka, Delilah decided to try a different approach with the archmage on the second day: feigning respect. The guards were true to their word and returned her possessions to her before taking her to the barracks. After a bit of haggling with some of the other initiates, she managed to take a bunk next to Katka. She wasn’t sure what she thought about the human yet, but she was, at least, someone Delilah knew.
When she reported for her studies the next morning, Delilah bowed and demurred. The archmage narrowed his eyes and huffed, but since she kept her tone even and didn’t meet his eyes, he couldn’t rightly accuse her of disrespect. True to what Pancras and Gisella predicted, he was unable to give her his full attention. Between requiring her to sit quietly and observe court business, he paced and lectured her on the proper method in which to attune an arcane focus. She tried to explain she already knew how to do that, but he ignored her protests. Interruptions were constant the first several days, but Archmage Vilkan seemed to regard them as a matter of course.
As the week neared its end, Delilah shuffled about the student barracks in a dejected state. So far, she’d been lectured many times, but the archmage had refused to actually teach her anything. Each of his lectures covered subjects she learned on her own back home. Her heart sank when she saw Katka approach, almost bouncing with energy. Her eyes flashed with excitement. “They’re going to hold Initiate Trials tomorrow! The Black and White Wizards will be presiding while the archmage is meeting with the archduke.”
“Great. He’ll probably make me hold his cloak while he talks. I’ll miss my chance.” She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter anyway; he hasn’t taught me a damn thing.”
Another student, a novice, overheard and joined them. “The archmage can’t do that. All initiates are required to attend the trials, even if they don’t participate.” He offered a hand to Delilah. “I’m Conner, by the way.”
His appearance and accent reminded Delilah of Princess Valene in Almeria. “Are you from Vlorey?” Delilah shook Conner’s hand.
He sat on the edge of her bed. “My parents are. Were. They were merchants and brought me down here when I was small. They died a few years back.”
Delilah rubbed her snout. “I can’t tell how old you humans are.”
Katka laughed. “That’s okay. We can’t tell how old you are, either. Old draks have dull scales, right?”
“Yeah, they dull with age, right?” Conner looked at Katka and then Delilah. “It’s not like all draks are shiny, and then, bam! They’re old and dull.”
The drak sorceress shifted and kicked her legs against the side of her bed, uncomfortable discussing drak aging with two humans. “It’s gradual. I spent a lot of time underground, so I can’t be exact. There’s really only two seasons worth tracking: when snow blocks us in and when it doesn’t. I think it’s at least thirty winters or so, but in Drak-Anor, it’s easy to lose track of time.”
“Wow! I’ve only seen sixteen. And you’re only an initiate?”
“She learned a bunch on her own, before she came here.” Katka sat on her bed and looked at Delilah. “Right?”
“That’s right.” Delilah sat on her bunk, pulling her pack up onto the bed with her. “My brother and I helped defend Drak-Anor for years before I came to this pit. They said I was a renegade and I had to start here, as an initiate, or they’d kill me.” She didn’t want to talk about the Court of Wizardry, the archmage, or guild business, so she changed the subject. “How old are you, Katka?”
“Fourteen. My parents sold our best horses to pay for my enrollment. They said I was a natural.” She chuckled. “So far, I’ve only managed to fail three trials and melt two cauldrons.”
Conner slapped her knee. “Well, tomorrow’s trials will be different. Black and White are always more lenient. They think the other masters spend too much time proving to initiates that they’re better than them and too little time teaching magic.”
Delilah snorted. “They must teach from the same plans as the archmage.”
He stood and shook their hands again. “Good luck, both of you. Hopefully, this time tomorrow, you’ll be in grey robes.”
* * *
Throughout the next few days, Pancras kept checking behind them to determine if they were being followed. When he wasn’t searching for their elusive pursuer, he wracked his brain, pondering who would have them followed, and why.
He concluded it was no one from Muncifer, and he figured anyone from Almeria would have long ago been noticed. Perhaps it is an agent of that shadow demon in my head? Pancras thought he heard a chuckle somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind. It’s probably nothing.
Pancras’s paranoid diligence did not go unnoticed by Gisella. Not only did she agree that their mysterious companion followed them, but it also behaved like a lone traveler, staying close enough to observe where they were headed and to follow, rather than someone who coincidentally traveled the same route. After cresting a h
ill, she halted her horse and dismounted.
She handed the reins to Pancras. “Slow your pace, but keep going. I’m going to lie in wait for our companion and ascertain whether or not they’re a threat to us. I’ll catch up in a bit.”
Pancras and Edric slowed their pace. The dwarf looked back as Gisella hunkered down in some scrub near the road. “This is our chance, you know.”
“Chance for what?” Pancras played dumb.
“Leave her behind. We could divert off the road, and you could head back home. She’d be none the wiser.”
The very thought turned Pancras’s stomach. It was the enchantment the archmage placed on him that caused the reaction. “She’d notice by the end of the day. Slayers are legendary for their ability to track their quarry.”
Edric scoffed. “They say a dwarf could find ale in the Western Wastes, too. Doesn’t matter to me, anyway. You wanna do what they say, that’s up to you.”
Of course, it wasn’t a matter of what he wanted. Not anymore. The archmage made sure of that, and sending a slayer along to ensure the outcome of his decree was insurance. Pancras wanted to be angry, to rage at the heavens at being forced into the journey against his will. But he wanted to go to Vlorey. He needed to. The fact that the shadow in his head was pleased about this worried him.
Whomever the shadow demon in his mind served, Pancras felt its malevolent touch whenever he thought about magic. He suspected the haze in his vision was the shadow’s doing, as well. For that reason, he kept his hands away from his arcane focus as much as possible.
Edric made small talk as they rode, but Pancras, absorbed in his own thoughts about their follower, the shadow demon, and traveling to Vlorey, barely noticed the dwarf’s voice. The morning became afternoon, and as they stretched their legs and walked their horses, Gisella caught up to them.
With her was a figure familiar to Pancras: a black-skinned fiendling with flaming red hair. He recognized her even without her garish outfit.
“This scamp has been following us since we left the city. Good eyes, Wizard.”
Pancras acknowledged the compliment with a nod.
Qaliah’s hands were bound in front of her. She held them up. “Gonna cut me loose, Slayer? I’m not going to run away. I was coming after you.”
“So you say.” Gisella took her horse’s reins from Pancras. “And no one sent you. You’re not after me, or the minotaur, or the dwarf?”
“That’s right. I wanted out of Muncifer, and I didn’t want to travel alone.”
Pancras looked over at Gisella. “Why did you bind her?”
“I wanted to keep control of her until I caught up with you.”
The minotaur unsheathed his knife and cut her bonds. He didn’t understand why she would follow them at all. “Surely, there were other people leaving Muncifer with whom you could travel.”
Qaliah rubbed her wrists. “Surely. Didn’t know them, though.”
Gisella’s horse nickered and placed her head over the slayer’s shoulder. Gisella looked back at Qaliah. “I tried to send her home. She fought me.”
“I wasn’t trying to beat you.” Qaliah laughed. “I don’t think I can. I’m not letting you send me back, though. My debt to the Arcane University is paid, and I’m a free woman now. I can go where I want, and right now, I want to go where you all are going.”
“Why?” Pancras couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to go with them, except Kale, his mate, and Delilah. Especially someone who was not aware of their destination.
“Why not? I don’t want to stay in Muncifer, and you’re going away from Muncifer. Good enough for me.” She held up her hands. “I’m not a complete fool, no matter how well I play at being one. Traveling alone is dangerous. I won’t get in the way, and I’ll pull my weight. Don’t have a horse, though.”
“Bah, girl’s lucky we kept a slow pace.” Edric climbed onto his pony. “Let’s get some more road under us before nightfall.”
“Indeed.” Gisella mounted her steed. She regarded Qaliah. “We can’t keep you from following us, I guess, but you’ll have to keep up.” She spurred her horse into a trot, passing Edric. The dwarf followed suit.
Pancras mounted Stormheart and contemplated following, but then he sighed and offered a hand to the fiendling. “Come on, then. Stormheart can carry us both for a bit.”
* * *
The practice area where the Initiate Trials were held was off to the side of the courtyard, between the tavern and the Court of Wizardry. A covered pavilion stood at one end, in which the Black Wizard, the White Wizard, and various masters sat. Practice dummies were lined up, backs to the compound wall. Students of all ranks stood on the sidelines, some waiting for their trials, others observing. Master Galina stood before the reviewing stand to serve as the proctor of the trials. Delilah knew from Katka’s gossip that Master Galina was one of the favorite defensive magic teachers of the students. She was an older woman, tall and thin, with greying hair she kept in a tight braid that hung down her back.
The drak sorceress and Katka stood on the sidelines with Conner, observing some of the other initiates perform the required spells. Delilah lost track of their names. That the archmage kept her separated from most of the other students, except at night, didn’t help.
Initiates were called one at a time to stand before Black and White, as the students referred to them. The first student called was an older initiate. At least, he looked older to Delilah. She still found it unreliable to determine the age of students based on their appearance. He was taller than Conner, but his face was just as smooth, though lighter. The smooth skin of humans unnerved Delilah. She didn’t like the way it felt under her fingers, either. It reminded her of dwarf flesh, but it was a bit more squishy and warm.
“Initiate Ludek, can you produce for us, a ball of light?” Master Galina paced in front of Ludek, her hands clasped behind her back.
“Certainly, Master.” Ludek held aloft his wand. “Fos.” Emerald swirls of aether spun around the tip of his wand, coalescing into a ball of light.
“Now, Initiate Ludek, I will cast a spell at you.” Master Galina stepped back, fingering an amulet around her neck. “If it hits you, it will harm you. Do you understand?”
Ludek extinguished the light and nodded. “I understand.”
Master Galina held up her amulet and pointed at Ludek. “Dynami velos!” Wisps of azure formed a sphere and hurtled at Ludek.
He twisted and raised his wand. “Aspida tou ravematos.” A shield of glittering energy the color of grass reflected the attack.
The gathered initiates applauded his quick reflexes. Delilah looked on with growing impatience as they tested his ability to levitate an object out of the Blood Oak and cast his own bolt of energy at one of the training dummies.
“That is sufficient, Initiate. You may trade in your initiate robes for novice robes and join the ranks of the novices.” Master Galina bowed to Ludek. The initiates offered him another round of applause.
One by one, Master Galina called the initiates. Some passed, some failed, and some failed painfully in the case of those unable to erect a shield in time to avoid Master Galina’s spell. When it was Katka’s turn, Delilah wished her good luck. The girl was able to create light, defend herself, and retrieve the object from the tree, but when it came time to attack the training dummy, her bolt fizzled and splashed against the wood and straw target like a snowball.
Master Galina cocked an eyebrow and glanced at the two high wizards. They shook their heads.
“You will remain an initiate, Katka.”
Katka hung her head and nodded. She returned to Delilah and Conner, offering them a weak smile. “Here I stay. I just need more practice with that one, I guess.”
Delilah smacked her lips. Her mouth was dry from anticipation. There remained one untested initiate: her. Some of what the students had been asked to do was unlike anything she’d learned in all her years of practicing magic. There wasn’t much call for grabbing boxes out of trees while fighting
oroqs underground.
“Initiate Dra—“ Master Galina frowned at her list of initiates and turned to the reviewing stand. “Really? Initiate Drak? Isn’t that a bit demeaning?”
The crowd murmured. Black held up his hand to silence them. “It is as it was entered by the archmage himself.”
“What utter nonsense.” Master Galina faced Delilah. “Initiate, what is your name?”
The drak sorceress held her head up high and stepped forward. “Delilah Windsinger, of Drak-Anor.”
“Enter that into the record. Very well.” Master Galina rolled up her list and stowed it under her robes. “Can you produce light?”
Delilah tilted her staff forward. “Fos.” Azure mist gathered around the top of her staff and burst into a ball of light.
“Initiate Delilah, I am going to cast a spell at you. If it hits you, it will harm you. Do you understand?”
Delilah gulped and nodded. Pancras knew shielding spells, but that was one area of magic she hadn’t learned.
Master Galina pointed at Delilah. “Dynami velos!”
The drak twisted and dove forward. She felt the magical bolt pass over her back as she rolled and came to her knees with her staff pointed at Master Galina. “Oph—”
A blast of energy from the reviewing stands knocked Delilah off her feet, sending her skidding across the yard.
White stood, his staff pointed at Delilah. “Initiates are not permitted to retaliate against masters.”
Delilah leaned on her staff as she rose to her feet. “Apologies. It was a reflex.” That much, at least, was true. Combat was second nature to the drak sorceress after years of dodging and fighting dwarfs, oroqs, and the other hostile denizens of the underworld.
“You did not shield yourself.” Black was standing now.
“Nevertheless, she was not struck by Master Galina’s spell.” White lowered his staff.
Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2) Page 13
