Rune Master (Dragon Speaker Series Book 3)

by Devin Hanson

  “Tomorrow at noon.”

  “Very well. Is there anything else?”

  “No, Lady Vierra. The Spear bid me bring you that news with all haste.”

  “Thank you. Return to Iria, tell her to meet us in our rooms in one hour.”

  The warden bowed and mounted his horse, riding it back up to the Academy but at a slower pace.

  “Jules, I–”

  “I know, Andrew. We still have time to withdraw your candidacy if you truly desire that, but in the meantime, we need to talk.”

  “Talking won’t change my mind, Jules. I can’t be both the Speaker and Guild Master.”

  “Ava herself said in the old days, the guild masters were Speakers.”

  “Yeah, and there were many Speakers, Jules. Dozens of them, hundreds, even. They had the luxury of choice.”

  Jules put a hand on Andrew’s arm. “Adnan,” she said quietly, “I think we’ll be safe in the city. Why don’t you return to the Academy.”

  “Lady, the Spear said–”

  “I know what Iria said,” Jules snapped then took a deep breath and forced a smile. “I want to talk to Andrew alone. Is that so much to ask?”

  Adnan bowed his head. “My charge is the Speaker’s safety. I will grant you privacy, but I will be within shouting distance if you need me.”

  “Good enough. Thank you, Adnan.”

  The warden looked at Andrew and Andrew nodded his agreement. With a bow, the warden withdrew out of hearing range.

  “What is it, Jules?” Andrew asked.

  “Walk with me. Forget the vote, forget the wardens, and forget the Incantors. Just for a little while.” She hooked her arm through Andrew’s and turned him away from the Academy, walking slowly in a meandering route through the city.

  Andrew walked and tried to do as Jules requested. When was the last time he hadn’t been too busy for a moment of quiet? He couldn’t remember. The last six months had been a blur of training with the wardens, studying runes and alchemy, and the constant pressure of trying to track down the Incantors. With an effort, he pulled his thoughts from the Academy and the constant intrigue and political scheming among the alchemists.

  They walked in silence for nearly ten minutes, then Jules spoke. “Remember when we first met?”

  Andrew’s lips quirked in a smile. “How could I not?”

  “I was so irritated at Milkin for goading me into teaching you. Tracking down Ava sounded promising, but I knew better than anybody how difficult it was going to be. Tiny gods, I had spent years searching the mountains in Salia for ancient dragon caves. I had a few successes, but for every rumor I followed to an actual dragon cave, ten led nowhere.

  “All I had this time was a half-starved gunny with a fortune in his pocket. Not even a rumor of a cave. What’s more, we were traveling into dragon territory to find it.” Jules shook her head. “I almost turned back after the first time we saw a dragon.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I was curious.”

  “About Ava?”

  “About you, Andrew. I had never met anyone who presented such an enigma. You were a gunny, one step above a beggar, but you spoke like an educated man. You were completely ignorant of alchemy and runes, but you had a knack for it bordering on miraculous. And most of all, you cared not one bit for the potential wealth we could find. You already had more money than most people earn in their entire lives in your pocket, but it meant nothing to you beyond something to learn from.”

  Andrew smiled slightly, remembering. “It was all I wanted. To learn alchemy.”

  “Milkin told me once what you said to him when he asked you why you wanted to join the Academy.”

  “To make the world safe for people to live in. Or something like that.”

  “Some would say you’ve accomplished that,” she said. “You have Avandakossi. You can live wherever you want, with loyal followers and friends to aid you.”

  Andrew shook his head. “I thought fighting the dragons aboard airships would solve the problems people have,” he said slowly. “I nearly died finding out how wrong that was. And you know what, it wasn’t even the dragon that destroyed that fleet. Oh, he did the work, I suppose, but the fleet was already corrupted and doomed to failure long before we set out.

  “People are their own worst enemy. They scheme and they hate and they plot. It’s like a man hanging off a cliff by a rope, sawing away at it because the hemp is rough against his skin. The dragons are a threat to human cities, but no more than we are to ourselves. The Incantors are just another manifestation of that.”

  They walked in silence for a few minutes then Jules spoke. “You could have walked away from it all. Iria and I pressured you a few times, but all the decisions were yours.”

  “Looking back at it,” Andrew said, “I wouldn’t change anything. They were the right decisions, though sometimes painful.”

  “Do you know why you made the choices you did?”

  Andrew laughed quietly. “I suppose I still hope to make the lives of humans better. If I can hunt down the last of the Incantors, I would eradicate a scourge that’s been festering among humanity for thousands of years. That’s worth fighting for.”

  “It is,” Jules agreed. “It’s why the wardens follow you. They saw how their nation had been brought to destruction by the Incantors and saw in you the power to prevent it from happening to anyone else. But fighting Incantors is just a means to an end, Andrew. Making the world a better place isn’t only about killing Incantors.”

  Andrew thought back to climbing the swaying catwalks and precarious footpaths of Chia and comparing the open nature of the Maar to the closeted secrecy of the alchemists. On the one hand, the Maar spread their science of geometry and physics freely among the people. Even the meanest of laborers could construct a stone arch or repair a terrace buttress. On the other hand, the alchemists kept the secrets of their power even from each other. It took years for an Academy student to scrounge for obfuscated details and hidden secrets in order to become even marginally competent at alchemy.

  Once, he had imagined a society combining the open knowledge of the Maar with the technology of the alchemists, where children were taught runes in school alongside their letters; a society where anyone could learn to use alchemy in their day-to-day lives. It was difficult to imagine such a place, but he could only picture it as a utopia.

  It was a dream worth fighting for.

  “No,” he agreed. “Making the world a better place isn’t only about killing Incantors.”

  “Being the guild master would give you the position to make great changes to the Guild.”

  “It might, it’s true. But I wonder if the Council would want me to be the new guild master if they knew I wanted to turn the Guild on its head. Trent Priah wants to destroy the Guild by ripping it asunder. I would destroy the Guild by making the knowledge of runes and alchemy available to anyone who asked.”

  Jules swallowed, but nodded. “The Guild as it existed a year ago is doomed in one fashion or another. Most of the Council knows this, even if they are not willing to admit it to themselves. Change in itself is not bad. If Kilpatri rises to guild master, he will try to hold onto the Guild as it is and will likely destroy it more thoroughly than even Trent could manage in the process.”

  “Is it wrong for him to try, though? I may be able to do things with alchemy that haven’t been seen for two thousand years, but I am no more a member of the Guild than I am a warden.”

  “And yet,” Jules said with a smile, “the wardens follow you. The Guild will follow you as well.”

  Andrew sighed.

  “Think of it like this,” Jules offered, “If you become Guild Master, you can simply leave Kilpatri as Council chairman. The old Master had nothing to do with the management of the Guild for years. If you would continue fighting against the Incantors, being the Master doesn’t have to stop you.”

  He looked at Jules sideways and gave an unwilling laugh. “You’ve thought this through, haven�
��t you?”

  Jules smiled back at him serenely. “Yes. Yes I have.”

  “Are you sure there aren’t any other details I need to remember?” Andrew asked sarcastically.

  He was sitting in a classroom beside the professor’s podium. In a semicircle around him, rows of seats rose in ranks, like a miniature auditorium. Seated among the front row and scattered about in the seats above, Guild Council members and influential members of the Academy were instructing him in the process of the coming vote.

  This was not the simple raising of hands that Andrew had first anticipated. It was more like a debate, where the candidates argued their merits to the Council. Like any tradition that has been around for a very long time, it was steeped in ritual and elaborate ceremony.

  Among the Council seated before him were a few faces he recognized and more that he did not. Traditionally, the Guild Council had twenty members and a chairman. They weren’t required to remain within the Academy, though any votes taken during their absence would discount them. This was going to be the first time in a hundred years that the entire Council would be present for any vote, let alone a vote to decide the new guild master.

  “It’s not that complicated, Speaker,” Merin said. Merin Tithy was the leader of the group by unspoken agreement. After her role in defending the Academy six months ago, she had been raised to the Council to take Professor Milkin’s place after his death.

  Andrew managed not to roll his eyes, but it was a near thing. “I was under the impression that you chose the guild master based on skill rather than popularity.”

  “We do,” Merin replied. “But there are degrees of skill. You can do wondrous things with fire, all of us have seen that and nobody is discounting your ability in that regard. But you have no Master Runes to your name, Speaker, and so there are those who would argue your skill is not as great as Kilpatri’s.”

  “And yourself?” Andrew asked.

  “You have been studying runes and alchemy for less than a year,” she sniffed. “That you have not yet mastered any runes is more a function of time than ability.”

  “Well. Thanks for clearing that up.” Andrew frowned, thinking through the arguments he was going to put to the Council the next day. It was late, now, nearly midnight. The formal voting process would start at dawn, though the actual raising of hands traditionally happened at noon.

  “I wouldn’t worry too much, Speaker,” Merin said. “Kilpatri may have his supporters, but most of the Council sees the vote as a formality. So long as you don’t suddenly forget how to use alchemy between now and dawn, the vote can only go one way.”

  “Right.” Andrew didn’t feel the same confidence Merin did, but he shook his head and sighed. “Thank you, all of you. It is late, though, and if I’m going to be at all convincing tomorrow, I need at least a few hours of sleep.”

  “Oh my. Look at the time.” Merin stood after a glance at the clock on the wall. One by one, Merin and the other alchemists left, some with words of encouragement, others with merely a nod or a friendly wave.

  By the time Andrew was alone, all he wanted to do was curl up in his bed and sleep. The wardens outside the classroom fell in behind him silently, perhaps picking up on his mood. Thankfully, there was no one in the hallways between the classroom and his rooms. He bid his escort good night, shut the door and collapsed on his bed fully clothed.

  “Come now, it isn’t that bad,” Jules chided him, putting aside the book she was reading and sitting up in the bed.

  “Ugh.” With an effort of will, Andrew got up the energy to roll off the bed and shuck his boots. Jacket and shirt followed his boots, and he fell back in bed wearing his pants and socks.

  Jules pulled him down onto the bed and started running her fingers through his hair. “You have a big day tomorrow. Go to sleep and everything will be better in the morning.”

  She looked down at him, mouth open to say more, but he was already asleep.

  Andrew jolted awake, his heart hammering in his chest. For a moment, he didn’t recognize where he was. Then remembrance crashed back to him. The vote! He glanced out the window, but the eastern sky was still inky black. What had woken him?

  He listened carefully, but there were no running feet nearby, no shouts in the distance. Jules was fast asleep next to him, her hair done up in a braid for sleep.

  Wake, Avandir. Avandakossi’s voice echoed in his mind again.

  I’m up. What is it? Andrew rolled out of bed, careful not to disturb Jules, and found his boots.

  You are back in the city of ith. This is well. I come.

  “Andrew?” Jules asked, her voice thick with sleep. “What is it? Is everything okay?”

  Burn it. He hadn’t meant to wake her. “I don’t know yet.”

  Ava, what is happening?

  Jules started getting dressed, ignoring the dress she had laid out the night before and getting into the pants and leather jerkin she wore when she expected to get into a fight. Boots, short sword and revolver came next.

  I hope you have achieved success in the south, Ava returned. The kossi are demanding proof of your commitment.

  “Dress warm,” Andrew told Jules, and went to the armoire to find his own fleece-lined riding jacket and goggles. He felt a strange sort of thrill. Jules and he, going out on another adventure rather than suffering through stuffy politics. The world seemed right once more.

  We were. I have the head of a kossante on ice.

  The door cracked open and a warden peeked inside, saw them getting ready for travel and retreated again.

  “Iria will be here soon,” Jules said as she settled her holster into a more comfortable position.

  “Ava will only carry two,” he said. “For this, I wouldn’t want her coming anyway.”

  “I don’t suppose we’ll be back before dawn,” Jules said wryly as she shrugged into her own jacket.

  Andrew extended his senses, trying to pick up on Ava’s position. She was still to the north, but he sensed great speed from her. Wherever she was, she would be here soon.

  “The vote will have to wait. We’ll need the coldbox.”

  Jules tucked a pair of gloves into her belt and grabbed her goggles and the handle of the coldbox carrying Lameda’s head. “Ready.”

  Iria was just entering the outer room when Andrew and Jules emerged. She was breathing hard from her sprint and still buckling on her sword belt.

  “Sorry, Iria, this is not a trip I can bring you on.” Andrew gathered up the saddle and harness fitted to Ava and checked the straps with a knife. He couldn’t so much as scratch the runed leather. With a grunt of satisfaction he heaved the lot up onto a shoulder.

  “You go with the dragon,” Iria said after seeing his riding leathers. “What of the vote?”

  Andrew glanced over at Jules, who shook her head. “An alliance with the dragons is more important. Kilpatri will have to be Guild Master for now.”

  Iria nodded. “Do you know how long you will be gone?” She backed out into the hallway and kept pace beside Andrew as he started walking.

  “I don’t.” He turned deeper into the Academy and headed toward the largest of the courtyards. “Days, probably.”

  Iria’s lips pressed to a thin line, but she nodded. “Very well.”

  A horn call rose into the night, the repeated double-trill of a dragon sighting.

  “She’s coming here?!” Jules cried.

  “She is in a hurry,” Andrew explained shortly. The saddle and webbing were heavy, and he was starting to get out of breath.

  “Will they shoot at her?” Iria asked worriedly.

  As if in reply, cannon thundered in the distance and the horn call repeated. Lamps were being lit in the buildings around them. Voices raised in alarm were drowned out by another cannon salvo.

  Andrew broke into a run and covered the last distance to the courtyard. He threw down the saddle and tilted his head back, turning in a slow circle as he tried to pinpoint where Ava was coming from.

  Stars were
blotted out by a swooping shadow then a blast of wind swept through the courtyard. Andrew shielded his eyes against the spray of sand and grit. Behind him, a window shattered.

  With a crash that shook the ground, Ava landed in the courtyard. Heavy stone planters were crushed beneath her feet and flagstones were torn up as her claws dug in for purchase. She threw back her head and bugled into the night.

  “Avandir, it is good to see you.”

  “Hello, Ava. I am happy to see you too.”

  Ava knelt down as Andrew approached with the saddle. “You have killed a kossante?”

  “Yeah, Jules has the head in that coldbox.” With a grunt, Andrew heaved the saddle up over Ava’s shoulders, settling it into the hollow at the base of her neck.

  Wardens were coming at a run from all over the Academy, woken by the horn calls and drawn by the rumbling of dragon speech. They formed up around the courtyard, blocking the entrances from curious alchemists.

  “Speaker!” Someone shouted from the edge of the courtyard. “You can’t leave now, what of the vote?!”

  “Andrew is the Dragon Speaker!” Jules shouted back. “That comes first, before all things.”

  Andrew gave her a grateful look as he leaned his weight into pulling the girth strap tight. Ava shifted her stance, helping him out as best she could. The straps would have been painfully tight on a horse, but Ava claimed she barely noticed them.

  “I hope none of those cannon hit you,” Andrew said as he worked.

  Ava snorted her amusement. “They are a deterrent to kosso,” she said, “but are little threat to a kossi who knows they are there.”

  “Good, because I’d hate to be shot out of the sky when we leave.”

  “You worry overmuch, Avandir.”

  With the last strap in place and tightened down, Andrew called to Jules and helped her climb up Ava’s flank to the saddle. She fastened the coldbox behind her as Andrew climbed up and settled into the saddle. The saddle was long enough to let Jules ride behind him if she kept close, with extra strapping so she could secure herself to the saddle as well.

  Seated and strapped to the saddle, Andrew leaned forward and slapped the side of Ava’s neck. “Okay, we’re ready.”