Volinette's Song

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Volinette's Song Page 10

by Martin Hengst


  “Sit down,” Adamon said, his voice cold and hard as ice.

  Volinette struggled to set the chair on its legs before she sank into it, even more dejected than before.

  “I think you better tell us exactly what you think happened,” he said, once she’d seated herself.

  “I don’t think anything happened. I know what happened.”

  “Very well then,” Adamon said with a sigh. He scrubbed his face with his hands. “Tell us what you know happened.”

  The entire story seemed to tumble from her in one long sentence. Once she got started, the words flowed like an avalanche, gaining speed and weight as they tumbled from her lips. When she got to the end of the retelling, the moment when Olin had entered the room, she felt as if she’d been running for days. She slouched down in the chair, spent.

  Adamon peered at her, his fingers steepled under his chin, but he said nothing. He glanced at Olin, who gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Then the Grand Inquisitor looked back at her. He placed both palms on the surface of his desk and forced himself to his feet.

  “You have a compelling story, Volinette Terris. However, the living memory of the Ethereal Realm tells another story. The problem is that the Ethereal Realm doesn’t lie.”

  “I’m not lying.” Volinette was so tired that the protest didn’t even sound genuine to her own ears.

  “For what it’s worth, I don’t believe you think you’re lying. In any event, we’re not going to sort through this tonight. You will stay here, in the tower, and we will see the Head Master in the morning. With her help and wisdom, we’ll sort this out.”

  Volinette couldn’t fight anymore. She just shrugged and nodded. They let her use the privy and freshen up. Then they took her to a small room with a single cot and a thin blanket, and they closed the door behind her. The simple click of the lock snapping into place hit her with the force of a landslide. At least it wasn’t the dungeon, she thought miserably. That was something.

  She climbed into the cot, pulling the blanket up around her chin. Volinette wept, and when she was too tired to cry anymore, she fell into a fitful sleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  Adamon slouched in a chair near the Head Master’s desk. His elbow was planted on a small, cluttered table, and his head was resting in the palm of his hand. The boredom that oozed off the Grand Inquisitor was palpable.

  “Why don’t we just compel her to tell us where she hid the Prism,” he asked, for no less than the third time in the hours they’d been questioning her.

  Volinette’s legs were numb. The chair she’d been told to sit in was hard, with no cushion or padding whatsoever. She’d been sitting there for hours. If asked, she couldn’t say how long, but it had been long enough for the Head Master, Olin Oldwell, and Adamon Vendur to discuss the specifics of the case against her three times. In whole. No detail was spared, no piece of evidence cast aside.

  Olin had, after the third retelling, excused himself to attend to his other duties. There was nothing more he could add to the conversation. Though he didn’t seem to care for Adamon’s personality, he seemed willing to let the other Inquisitor carry on the proceedings without him. That left Volinette with just the two of them, bickering back and forth.

  Maera sat behind the desk, massaging her temples with long, slender fingers. Her eyes, the uncanny amber eyes that seemed to see straight into one’s soul, were closed. For that, Volinette was grateful. It had been bad enough to see the disappointment in those eyes during the first retelling of her misadventure. It had only gotten worse the longer her interrogation ran.

  “Asked and answered, Grand Inquisitor. The Order does not, has not, and will never condone the use of mind magic against a citizen of the Imperium. Was that not clear the first two times I said it?” Maera’s voice boomed like thunder, seeming to fill the substantial office at the top of the tower. “Perhaps you need a change of pace? Reassignment to the Great Library as a researcher for several years?”

  “Alright, alright,” Adamon said, raising his hands in surrender. “We just aren’t getting anywhere going in circles. Olin swears by what he saw, and Volinette swears that she wasn’t involved.”

  “What about the Ethereal Memory?”

  “Inconclusive,” Adamon shrugged. “It appears to support Olin’s assessment.”

  “But you’re not convinced?” Maera asked, her eyes snapping open. She leaned forward over her desk, pinning Adamon with a hard stare.

  “I have no opinion one way or the other. I haven’t had time to investigate. We questioned the girl, then brought her directly here. Likewise, I haven’t had an opportunity to question the other girls, either.

  “Go to the Hall of Wonders and investigate thoroughly, Grand Inquisitor. Something about this doesn’t seem right to me.”

  Adamon returned the Head Master’s gaze, wagging a finger in warning. “I’m aware of your fondness for the girl, Head Master, but don’t let that interfere with the appropriate dispensation of justice.”

  Maera tossed her head, casting an arch look at the inquisitor.

  “Has it ever?”

  “No,” Adamon conceded as he got to his feet. He adjusted his cloak, letting it fall over the holster on his belt before he added, “But there’s always a first time for everything.”

  He bowed from the waist, then turned and strode from the Head Master’s office. Squealing metal echoed into the room from the antechamber, and Volinette listened to the muted rumble as the brass cage carried Adamon down from the highest level of the tower.

  Once the roar of the descending carriage died away, Maera sighed and pushed herself to her feet. She turned, her purple robes swirling around her ankles, and walked out on the balcony that extended from the tower behind her impressive desk. Volinette was unsure what she should do. On one hand, the Head Master hadn’t invited her out on the balcony. On the other, just sitting in front of the desk seemed like a waste of time.

  Swallowing hard against the butterflies that seemed to have hatched in her stomach, Volinette eased herself out of the hard chair onto legs that had gone numb during her questioning. She pitched forward, only managing not to fall over by bracing herself against Maera’s desk. Unfortunately for Volinette, the desk was stacked with parchment and papers, most of which slid off the sides when she caught herself.

  Maera turned at the sound of shuffling papers and watched as the last few sheets slipped from the desk and wafted their way to the floor. Volinette wanted to say something, to apologize for her carelessness, but the words just wouldn’t come at her command. She felt the flush creep up her neck into her cheeks and the prickle of tears at the corners of her eyes. The last thing she wanted to do in front of the Head Master was burst into tears.

  Though they were unwelcome and unbidden, the tears came anyway. Volinette was well aware of how ridiculous she looked, and that only served to make her outburst that much more violent. She was standing in the Head Master’s office, clinging to the desk, bawling her eyes out. At least the day couldn’t possibly get any worse. Maera took one look at her and burst out laughing. Okay, Volinette thought, maybe a little worse.

  “I’m sorry, Volinette,” the Head Master said, regaining her composure after just a moment and rushing to her aid. Maera helped her steady herself, then guided her to an overstuffed armchair in the corner. With a gentle shove, Maera led her into the chair and pulled a stool over from a nearby worktable.

  “I’m sorry. None of this is funny for you, but if you could have seen the look on your face.” Maera motioned to the piles of paper that were now on the floor instead of the desk. “Don’t worry about any of that. It is easily set right and no real harm was done.”

  Maera took a deep breath, casting an appraising eye over Volinette, who sat in sullen silence.

  “You’ve had quite the couple days, haven’t you?”

  “I didn’t do it,” Volinette said, her voice flat and stubborn. “I don’t know anything about the Prism, and I didn’t take it.” />
  Maera nodded.

  “I didn’t believe that you had,” the Head Master said, raising her hand to forestall Volinette’s objection. “There are certain protocols to be observed in the Orders, as well as in the Great Tower, and to a lesser extent, the Academy. I’m not saying it is fair. I’m not saying that you deserved it. I’m just saying that there are certain ways that things are done and that we must follow them, regardless of what we know to be true.”

  “It’s stupid.” Volinette knew that it was neither a polite or tactful thing to say, but she was done with being polite and tactful. She was done with trying to get along. She’d tried to get along with Janessa and the others, and look where it had gotten her.

  Maera shrugged.

  “It may very well be stupid, as you say. However, it is our way…and for the time being, we must adhere to the protocols that are laid out for us. Did Olin or Adamon mistreat you in any way?”

  “No,” Volinette admitted grudgingly. “Except the cot was small and the blanket thin, I woke up with the worst crick in my neck.”

  “If that’s the worst you come out of this misadventure with, Volinette, I’d suggest that you got off easy.” Maera’s smile faded a trifle. “Even though I don’t believe you had anything to do with the theft of the Prism, you were out past curfew. You did break into the Hall of Wonders. We have rules for a reason.”

  Volinette hung her head. No matter how angry she was at the treatment she’d been subjected to, there was no fighting the Head Master on those points. If she’d just stayed in her room as she’d done so many other times since coming to the Academy, then maybe she wouldn’t be in such an unenviable position.

  Maera reached forward and patted her knee. It wasn’t the first time that Volinette had wondered if the Head Master could read her mind.

  “I know you’ve had a rough go of it. I also know exactly how bad things with Janessa had gotten. I respect Master Casto. I think he made a wise decision in allowing you to try and work things out on your own, but I think he may have let it go too far. He probably should have stepped in when it became apparent that Janessa wasn’t going to let go of her resentment so easily. Perhaps that was our failing, and I’m sorry. Maybe we’re both at fault here.”

  Maera looked as if she was going to say something else, but Volinette would never have a chance to find out what it was. A distinct rumble of stone against the thick glass of the tower walls announced the return of the elevator that brought visitors to the antechamber outside the Head Master’s office. Volinette was mildly curious as to who was returning. Was it Olin, coming to fight for his observations of the crime? Or was it Adamon, who had completed his investigation of the Hall of Wonders and was returning with his findings?

  The person who burst through the antechamber door and into Maera’s personal office was the last person Volinette would have expected. Baris was gasping for breath, doubled over, and clawing at his chest.

  “Head…Master…,” he managed, between panting breaths. “Volinette…didn’t…do…it.”

  “Sit down, young man,” Maera commanded in a voice that tolerated no hesitation. She stabbed a finger at the hard chair that Volinette had so recently vacated.

  Baris nodded, still trying to catch his breath, and slid into the chair. His doublet was open at the throat and sweat had turned his brown hair into a stringy mess pasted to his forehead. When Maera turned to the basin stand in the corner of the room, Baris flashed Volinette a thumbs up and a grin. By the time Maera handed him a glass of water she’d poured from the pitcher, Baris showed no sign of his support for Volinette. Instead, he took the glass and drained the liquid within in two huge gulps.

  “Now, young man,” Maera began, her voice stern. “You will tell me what is so important that you barge into my chambers uninvited and unannounced.”

  Baris took a deep breath and, for a moment, Volinette hoped that he’d change his mind. Maera surely couldn’t know everything that she’d been subjected to at Janessa’s whim, and she didn’t want the Head Master to think less of her for being the butt of Janessa’s jokes, or the victim of her cruel pranks. She breathed a sigh of relief when Baris began to speak, thankful that he, at least for the time being, was sticking to the most important facts.

  “I’m sorry, Head Master. I just heard Volinette had been brought to you for questioning. Rumors spread like wildfire within the Academy walls. I ran here from the School of Sorcery, without stopping, because I thought you would want to know what really happened.”

  “And how, young Apprentice Jendrek, do you know exactly what happened?”

  “Because I was there, Head Master.” Baris had the good manners to shoot a sheepish grin at Volinette before he continued. “I saw Volinette meet up with Janessa and the others, and I figured that Janessa was up to her usual tricks, so I decided to follow them.”

  Maera’s eyes flashed, as if she’d just spied weakness in her prey. Baris saw the look, and he gulped loudly.

  “Pray tell, Apprentice Jendrek, how you followed them without being discovered?” Maera’s voice was smooth and sweet, but Volinette knew a trap when she heard it. She was practically shouting at Baris in her head. Shut up! You don’t need to help me! Unfortunately, Baris wasn’t gifted with Maera’s apparent gift of telepathy. He just blundered on, stumbling over his own words.

  “I, uh…um…” Baris shook his head. He dug around in the pocket of his breeches and withdrew a small crystal cube. He lifted his chin and looked at the Head Master. “With this, Head Master. It’s a Seer’s Cube.”

  “I know what it is, Apprentice Jendrek.”

  Baris went red, but he didn’t back down. “Well, then you know what it’s good for. My dad gave it to me, and it’s a good thing, too. Otherwise, Volinette might get the blame for what that awful Janessa did.”

  Maera put her forehead in her hand, massaging her temples with thumb and middle finger.

  “Never let it be said, Volinette, that you don’t have your defenders.”

  Volinette thought it would be wise if she said nothing, so she remained quiet. At length, the Head Master took her hand away from her head and peered at Baris.

  “Okay, Baris, what did you see?”

  His words tumbled out like a rockslide, but the basic information was the same as Volinette had said. They’d snuck to the Hall of Wonders, Janessa had opened a portal into the building, and they’d gone inside. They went to the relic room and Janessa attacked Volinette, leaving her to be caught for a crime she didn’t commit. What came next in the story, Volinette had no way of knowing, but it ignited in her a hatred for Janessa that she hadn’t had previously.

  “Janessa did something to the memories in the relic room, Head Master. She mucked about with it, somehow. I didn’t recognize the magic. I do know, though, that when she came out of the room with her harpies, they had the Prism with them. No matter what anyone says, Volinette didn’t take that Prism. Janessa did.”

  The gaze that Maera directed on Baris would have made the most powerful mage go pale, but he stared back at her, unflinching. His eyes were bright, and Volinette could almost feel the pride swelling inside him. He’d brought them something they didn’t know. Something that might clear Volinette’s name.

  “Are you saying, Apprentice Jendrek, that Janessa used spellcraft to alter the living memory inside the relic room at the Hall of Wonders?”

  “That’s exactly what he’s saying, Maera,” a new voice said from the direction of the doorway. Their heads whipped toward the door in unison. Adamon was standing there, his cloak pushed back away from the holster on his belt. “And she did a particularly crafty job of it. Not good enough to fool me, mind you, but enough that Olin wouldn’t have given it a second thought.”

  Volinette felt as if she’d been dumped in a rushing river. The current was carrying her along, bouncing her off rocks before she could fully comprehend what was going on around her.

  “I didn’t do it,” Volinette said again. It seemed to be the only thing he
r mind could process with any certainty.

  “No,” Adamon agreed. “You didn’t. Now, thanks to my investigation and young Apprentice Jendrek here, we know conclusively who did.”

  “What happens now?” Volinette and Baris asked, almost in unison.

  “Nothing for either of you.” Adamon shot a knowing look at the Head Master. “I think it’s time to recall Olin and the other Inquisitors. If she’s willing to meddle with the fabric of the Ethereal Realm, I’m not sure we can trust her not to do something more dangerous.”

  Maera sighed.

  “Send for the Inquisitors, Adamon. Find Janessa and bring her to me.”

  They were dismissed then, and Volinette and Baris shot from the room as if fired out of a cannon. They bypassed the lift entirely, instead pelting down the stairs as fast as their feet would carry them. It wasn’t until they were outside the tower that Volinette turned on Baris, punching him lightly in the arm.

  “If you saw everything, what took you so long to come find me?”

  “What was I supposed to do?” Baris asked with a snort. “Break you out of the dungeon? Kick Adamon in the shins and steal you away? I thought Maera was the most likely person to see reason, so I bided my time.”

  “Well, I’m glad you did. Thank you.”

  Baris shrugged. “You’d have done the same. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  Chapter Twelve

  A leaden sky hung over Blackbeach, as if it, too, was brooding over the events that had so recently transpired under its watchful gaze. Volinette shivered. She was wearing an undershirt, her tunic, and had her cloak cinched around her neck with the hood up. Even so, she was cold. Every time the wind whipped across the choppy waves, it pierced her like a dagger. As uncomfortable as it was on the breakwater, it would have been ten times as bad within the Academy walls. The Inquisitors were still looking for Janessa and the Prism, and Volinette didn’t want to be anywhere nearby when they found her.

 

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