Suddenly, a light appeared in front of him, and Jez was forced forward. Voices came from it, deep and incomprehensible. It wouldn’t destroy him, but it might well do something far worse, and for the first time in more years than mortal minds could comprehend, Jez felt fear.
CHAPTER 20
Jez woke in a cold sweat, breathing heavily. A fear that he was still asleep seized him, and he pinched himself several times to try to wake himself up, but if this was a dream, that didn’t work. As the next several seconds passed, Jez’s heart slowed, and he sorted through his thoughts. The sun shone outside, and he made a mental note to request quarters that faced west so that he wouldn’t have the morning sun in his eyes when he woke. He’d had the same dream nearly every night in the months since Osmund had been kicked out. He’d pushed himself in his lessons and training with the sword in an effort to exhaust himself, hoping he’d be too tired to dream, but it never worked. He’d even go to temple services once in an attempt to find peace, but that night, his dream had been worse, so he’d never returned.
Jez tried to push the memory of the dream out of his mind as he rolled out of bed. He started putting his clothes on when someone knocked on the door. He threw on his student’s robes and shambled into his sitting room to open the door. A short boy stood there, looking from side to side. When he saw Jez, he squeaked.
“Are you the boy wizard Jezreel?”
“Boy wizard? Who told you that?”
The boy paled and stumbled back a few steps. “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. Please don’t hurt me. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Jez sighed. This was obviously a boy from Tarcai. It seemed his reputation beyond the walls of the Academy hadn’t quite died off yet. ‘Boy wizard’ was a new one, though.
“It’s just Jez. Who told you to come and find me?”
“It was a giant, sir.”
“A giant?”
“Oh yes sir. He was at least ten feet tall. I was afraid he would eat me or something. He said he knew you.”
“Stop calling me sir. Who was this giant?”
“He said his name was Osmund.”
“Osmund? Where is he?”
“He’s waiting for you at the edge of the mountain.”
Jez nodded. It made sense that Osmund wouldn’t come into the city. Master Besis had warned them about the wards. Jez didn’t think they would actually hurt Osmund, but he wouldn’t have wanted to take that chance either. Still, why would Osmund come here in the first place?
“Lead the way,” he said to the boy.
At this hour, Tarcai was just beginning to come alive as people started to trickle onto the streets. Jez followed the boy through the city. It only took them a quarter hour to reach the edge. As they neared the rim of Mount Carcer Osmund came into view. The larger boy threw the messenger a silver coin. It slipped between his fingers and the boy scrambled to pick it up before disappearing back into town. Osmund looked at his friend.
“Boy wizard?”
Osmund shrugged. “I needed to make sure the message would reach you. I told him you would know if he just ran off and that you’d hunt him down.”
Jez sighed. “I’ve been trying to avoid that kind of reputation. What do you want?” Osmund looked away, and Jez’s blood went cold. “My father?”
“I’m sorry, Jez. He has the sleeping sickness.”
For a moment, his reason deserted him, and he just stared at his friend. It was impossible. His father was the strongest man he knew. The sleeping sickness was a thing that happened to other people, not to those Jez cared about. His father couldn’t have it, but when he saw the look in Osmund’s face, he knew it was true.
“How long?” His voice cracked as he spoke and he felt something wet running down his cheek.
“What?”
“How long has he been asleep?”
“I read him your message when I got into town. He made me promise to come back for lunch the following day. When I got there, he was asleep. That was almost a month ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell Master Dusan?” Jez asked. “He could’ve used his speaking stone to tell me.”
“Jez, I tried. He had me waiting three days to speak to him. Finally, I gave up and left a message with one of his servants. They promised to deliver it, but I didn’t have high hopes. Then, I found a caravan headed to Hiranta and came back here. I see I was right to do it.”
“I need to go back home,” Jez said.
“You’ll have to speak to the masters.”
“I don’t care what the masters say. My father could be dying.”
“Jez, they’ve awakened you. They’ll be able to track you down. Go speak to them. It won’t be the first time they’ve granted permission to leave because of a family member. They might even help you get there faster. It’s why I risked making the trip up the mountain at night. I wanted to tell you as soon as possible. If they give permission, we can leave right away.”
“You’re going with me?”
Osmund nodded. “Do you know how many people have been kind to me since I got to the Academy? The tier of nobles considers me a freak, and the tier of commoners is afraid of me. Even back home, most people stayed away from me because of,” he waved his hand in front of his face. Jez had almost gotten used to his mismatched eyes and overly large nose, but others hadn’t. “People who have been kind to me are few and far between. I don’t easily abandon them.”
“Will you come with me to speak with the masters?”
Osmund looked into the city for several seconds. Finally, he nodded. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 21
They had only gone a hundred yards into the city before guards ran down the street with spears leveled. The two boys froze as the men surrounded them. One held a glowing diamond in his left hand and bore the insignia of a captain on his chest. When he pointed the gem at Osmund, it brightened and some of the guards pressed their spears forward.
“You were banished from Tarcai. You will leave now.”
“We need to see the masters,” Jez said.
“You are free to,” the captain said. “He must leave.”
Osmund looked to Jez, and he realized the larger boy would do whatever he asked. One of the guards grunted at the captain.
“Sir, that’s a battlemage. I saw him in the arena.”
“I saw that fight too,” another said. “He lost.”
“He lost to another battlemage,” the first said. “We don’t have one of those with us. We should send to the Academy for help.”
“Lovely,” Osmund said. “We’ll go with you.”
The captain looked like he was about to refuse but thought better of it. The other guards exchanged glances but they lowered their weapons at the captain’s gesture. He had a resigned look on his face. Normal city guards just weren’t equipped to deal with a battlemage of Osmund’s caliber, and he knew it. The only place in the city that had people who could was the Academy, and he motioned for them to follow.
“Don’t try anything,” the captain said
Jez suppressed a laugh, but Osmund put a hand on his shoulder and nodded. They fell into step behind the guards. Their armed escort attracted the attention of the townspeople, but crowds parted for them, so they made it through the town quickly. Master Besis was waiting for them at the edge of the Academy grounds. The captain bowed to him.
“I take it these two behaved themselves?”
“Yes, Master, aside from refusing to leave that is.”
“Thank you. I’ll take it from here.”
The captain nodded and gave Osmund a hard look before departing. Besis rolled his eyes and watched them disappear around the corner.
“I take it I don’t have to bind you, Osmund?”
“No, Master Besis. I won’t be staying long.”
They briefly related the information about Jez’s father. Besis nodded and sent a student with a message for Chancellor Balud to meet them at the speaking stone. Ordinarily, they would’ve released Jez to go to his fa
ther without any sort of formality, but since his presence at the Academy was sponsored, they had to get permission from his patron. They climbed the stairs of the central spire and activated the stone. By the time Baron Dusan’s image appeared in the crystal, Balud had come into the room as well. Dusan scowled at the binding master, but listened to what Jez had to say.
“I’m sorry,” the baron said. “I never got the message. You can be assured the servant who received it will be severely punished.”
“You don’t really need to do that, sir,” Jez said. “I just want to know if I can come home.”
“Of course. Chancellor, I presume he’ll be allowed back next term.” Balud nodded. “Good. I’ll handle his education until then. Please provide him with the best horse you can get ahold of. I’ll pay whatever is needed.”
Jez cleared his throat. “Sir, I don’t know how to ride.”
“You don’t?” The image cocked its head. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t. Chancellor, please see that a riding teacher is hired for him next term. In the meantime, get him a coach and send guards with him. I want him on his way within the hour.” The chancellor nodded and the baron’s image vanished.
“I’ll see to the arrangements,” Balud said. “We’ll forgive your intrusion into the city, Osmund, provided you leave now.”
“Chancellor, I want him to go with me,” Jez said.
“Out of the question. He’s been banished.”
“I wouldn’t be so hasty, Chancellor,” Besis said. “It makes a lot of sense.”
“How so?”
“The baron wanted Jezreel protected. Osmund is his friend, and he’s enough of a battlemage to provide better protection than half a dozen guards. We can send a few with him to help, but a small party would travel quicker than a large one.”
Balud thought for a second before nodding. “Pack your things. We’ll send some of our guards with you along with a writ giving you access to our stables in Hiranta. You’ll have our fastest horses. You should be back in Randak in a matter of days.”
Osmund waited outside while Jez changed out of his student robes and into a sturdy shirt and pants better suited for travel. They were plain but still much finer than anything he’d had before moving in with Dusan. He packed a few things. At the last moment, he belted his sword and headed down. Their escort was waiting for them when Jez came out of the tower with his things. Going down the mountain took about half the time it took to go up it. It was still early afternoon when they reached the city. The guards with them wasted no time in retrieving their transportation and supplies for the journey. They left the city before the sun had set in the direction of home.
CHAPTER 22
The trip to Randak lacked the comfort of the trip to the Academy. The only requirement here was speed. The coach thundered across the plain, slowing only as it was necessary to rest the horses. Osmund rode in the coach with him, but they spoke little. Each day, they traveled long after the sun had set. Even from inside the coach, the trip was draining, and often, Jez had fallen asleep before they made camp, and more than once, he didn’t wake up until after they had left so the trip seemed like one long continuous journey. He wasn’t even sure if they took him out of the coach on those days. Judging from the way his muscled ached when he woke, he suspected not.
After a week, Jez caught the smell of the sea. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it. The scent revitalized him, and he kept poking his head out the window, hoping to catch sight of it. He squealed in delight when he first saw the sun reflecting off the water in the distance. Before long, every dip and rise on the plains seemed familiar. The tops of buildings poked over the horizon as his hometown came into sight. The sun had nearly vanished beneath the western horizon when they pulled into Randak. The coach headed for Dusan’s manor.
“Not that way,” he said to the driver through the sliding window at the front.
“We have our orders, sir,” he said. “We’re to take you directly to the baron.”
Jez rolled his eyes and tried to open the door, but it was locked. Osmund motioned for him to stand back. His eyes glowed red and Jez pressed himself against his seat. Osmund threw his hand forward, and a gust of wind as strong as a hurricane rushed past Jez and crashed into the door. The wood groaned in resistance for a few seconds. Then, there was a loud crack, and the door exploded outward in a shower of splinters. There were cries of surprise from the guards as the unexpected sound startled the horses. Osmund grabbed Jez, and they leapt out of the coach. They hadn’t been going very fast and Osmund was able to hit the ground running. People all around gasped and cried out as Osmund barreled through them. They turned down a series of streets before diving into a crowd.
“Did you really have to do that?” Jez asked as he struggled to catch his breath. His heart was racing.
“You said you wanted to see your father.”
“I didn’t mean to break out of the coach. Baron Dusan would’ve let me see him.”
“Are you so sure?”
“Yes. I don’t understand why you’re so suspicious of him.”
Osmund shrugged. “I don’t either. Maybe I’m having one of those limaph flashes of knowledge that you seem to get so often. Look, it won’t take them long to find us. Your father’s house is this way, right?”
Half an hour later, they’d seen no sign of the baron’s guards. They arrived at the house to find it empty. There were no wrapped bundles of fish, and the hearth was cold. Dust covered the floor, and the only footprints were Jez’s own. He walked out feeling dejected and having no idea what to do next.
“Jezreel?”
Jez looked up. Mistress Tuvon was coming out of the house next to Bartin’s. She was a tall woman whose raven black hair was sprinkled with a few strands of white. She looked tired and seemed much older than the last time Jez had seen her. He almost asked her how Kashur was, but he caught himself at the last moment. Kashur had caught the sleeping sickness just before Jez had left for the Academy. She seemed to know what he was thinking. She smiled, but it looked forced.
“You’re looking for your father.”
“Yes.”
“He’s with Master Clont.” Her eyes gleamed with unshed tears. “I used to hate that old man. He has a foul manner and an even fouler tongue, but he changed his inn into a sick house and cares for those poor souls who won’t wake up. Even Kashur...” she turned away.
Jez motioned for Osmund to remain. He walked over to her house and put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up and tears streamed down her cheek. She nodded once but didn’t say anything more. He squeezed her shoulder and returned to Osmund.
“I didn’t realize there were enough of the sick to fill an entire inn,” Jez said as they walked through the city.
“There weren’t when I was here last time. It’s gotten a lot worse.”
The common room of the inn was empty. Clont hustled over to them and gave Osmund an uneasy look. “I’m sorry, young masters, we’re closed.” His eyes wandered over Jez and stopped on his face. His nose wrinkled in surprise and his voice took on a kindly tone. “Oh, I see. I didn’t recognize you in those clothes, Jez. I suppose you want to see your father?”
Jez tried to speak, but a lump formed in his throat. He looked down at himself and felt like a traitor. He should’ve at least changed clothes before he came here. Of course he hadn’t really had an opportunity. He sighed and nodded. Master Clont motioned for him to follow, and the husky man led them up the stairs and down the hall.
“He was the first to get sick with no one to look after him.” Clont said it with no accusation in his voice, but it still made tears well in Jez’s eyes. “I couldn’t just let him die, so I brought him here. People didn’t want to sleep in the same building as someone who has the disease, so they left. Eventually, others started bringing the sick to me. I’m almost out of room.”
“It’s good of you to sacrifice your livelihood like this Master Clont,” Osmund said.
“People give me what coin th
ey can. Some of them may seem coarse, but no one really wants to see the people here abandoned. They’re not hard to care for, and it’s enough to let me get by.”
He opened a door at the end of the hall, and Jez asked Osmund to wait outside. He went in and, for a second, he couldn’t believe what he saw. His father was a mere shadow of what he had been. His face was gaunt, and his limbs looked like little more than bones wrapped in skin. His chest was moving with the regular rhythm of breath, but even that was barely detectable. This looked nothing like the irritable fisherman who had little patience for the foolishness of nobility. The room smelled musty, and Jez tried to open the window, but it was jammed. He gazed down at his father, and a wave of sorrow washed over him. Jez knelt down by the bed and wept.
“I’m sorry,” he said through tears. “I should’ve been here.”
Jez wasn’t sure how long he stayed there weeping. Eventually, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up. Osmund stood over him. He wore a somber expression. Jez looked out the window and saw stars twinkling in the sky. He must’ve been there for hours.
“We should go see the baron.”
“He knows where I am.”
“Probably,” Osmund said, “but I’d prefer not to have him more irritated than he already is.”
Jez stood up and followed his friend. At the doorway, he turned and took one last look at his father. He had been such a strong man. He shouldn’t be like this.
It wasn’t right.
The smell of sulfur flared in Jez’s nostrils. He didn’t remember moving across the room. He was just there, standing over his father. The past was screaming at him, drowning out everything else. He splayed his fingers and ran them from the top of Bartin’s head to the left side of his chest, where his heart beat all too weakly. Power rushed out of Jez and his father groaned. Behind him, Osmund gasped. Slowly, his father opened his eyes and tried to focus.
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