Journey To The Rift (Coimirceoirí: Guardians of the Marked Ones)

by Cathi Shaw

  Ignoring the stab of guilt that assaulted her for taking what was not hers, Brijit stuffed the map into her bag and then looked around Raspella’s desk to see if there were any other clues. Everything else appeared to be things the potions instruction would normally be working on.

  Sighing, Brijit searched the bookshelves but saw nothing related to either the Prophecy the letter mentioned or the rune she’d seen on the dead child’s shoulder. Admitting defeat, she straightened and looked around the room once more, making sure everything was as she had found it. Then she blew out her candle and slipped out the door. She may not have found the answers she was hoping for, but she certainly had more information than when she’d arrived. The only problem was the things she had discovered left her with more questions than answers.

  #

  Brijit returned to her rooms with barely enough time to change into her formal Academy graduation robes. She was surprised when she saw that neither Elsa nor Serena were there yet. She had expected her friends to be in the midst of primping for the ceremony. She took advantage of their absence to tuck the map into her traveling bags which she had already started to prepare for her trip. Although she hadn’t known that she would be the Academy apprentice this year, all the Coimirceoirí graduates would be leaving the school within the next week so most of the girls had started to pack up their things.

  She straightened and looked over to Serena’s and Elsa’s beds, where their robes were neatly laid out. It didn’t make sense that they weren’t here. All the graduates were required to wear their graduation dress robes, but she expected most of the girls would be taking extra time with their hair and accessories in an attempt to impress the male students. Judging by how excited her friends had been this morning, she had assumed they would be especially diligent with their appearance.

  Brijit frowned as she ran a brush through her short hair. They clearly hadn’t returned from their earlier adventures. She wondered if they had met up with a couple of the male Coimirceoirí and lost track of time. She wouldn’t put it past them.

  But, no, it didn’t make sense that Serena would miss the banquet. As much as everyone focused on her looks, Brijit knew her friend was keen to discover if she would be stationed in Bermgarten as she hoped. It was one of the largest cities in Five Corners, and Serena had announced her plans to be placed there midway through their second year together.

  “I come from one of the tiniest villages in the country, Brijit. Can you imagine what an honor it would be to be stationed in the largest eastern city?”

  And Brijit believed that her friend had a very good chance of being so placed. She was the most promising healer of their year. And everyone knew that Bermgarten valued apprentices who were healers beyond all else.

  Serena would be back in time for the ceremony; Brijit was sure of it. And so would Elsa, even if it was only to see where everyone ended up. Elsa was the one girl in their year who liked to know what was going on with everyone. She wouldn’t miss hearing each girl’s station announced.

  No, it was very odd that they were cutting it so close to the ceremony time. Brijit frowned. A shiver of fear ran down her spine. She hoped nothing had happened to the girls.

  Shaking her head, she put her brush down and bent to lace up her shoes. She was letting what she’d discovered in Raspella’s office taint her thoughts. Regardless of what the letter and the map might suggest, it didn’t mean that all of the Academy was corrupt. And there was no reason to think her friends might be in danger. More likely they were still flirting with the boys.

  No, Serena and Elsa had nothing to worry about. In fact, Brijit was the one who seemed to have less than loyal instructors at the Academy. Anger began to bubble in her stomach as she remembered what she had read in the letter. Even after what had happened in Merryville, she had thought Raspella was her ally. Clearly, however, she had not wanted Brijit to be chosen as the Academy’s apprentice.

  Before Brijit could completely tamp down her anger, the door banged open. Serena and Elsa burst into the room, immediately ripping her thoughts away from her deceitful mentor. Her friends were clearly upset. Serena’s blond curls were escaping from her neat braid, and Elsa’s cheeks were flushed.

  Brijit stood up in alarm when she saw the raw fear on Elsa’s face.

  “Elsa? What happened?”

  Serena closed the door and turned to Brijit, her turquoise eyes shining with tears.

  Brijit’s heart began to pound. “What’s going on?”

  Serena pushed Elsa toward her bed. “We need to act as if all is fine, Elsa. Get dressed for the banquet.” Serena was pulling her day clothes off as she spoke. She paused to wipe the tears from her eyes.

  “Serena, what happened?” Brijit said more sternly.

  She looked at Brijit and shook her head. “You were right to be suspicious, Brijit. Something is going on, and it’s worse than any of us imagined.”

  Chapter Two

  As they dressed, the girls explained what had happened. They had gone looking for the boys from Stone Mountain as they said they were going to do. But they had been sidetracked after only seeing a few of them in the distance on the training field.

  Elsa had come up with the idea of taking a shortcut through the northern dorms in an effort to get a better look at the boys down on the field, and that’s when they had almost stumbled upon a secret meeting.

  “We didn’t think anything of it,” Serena said shakily. “We just dove into the nearest wardrobe and took cover, waiting for whoever it was to move along.”

  Only they hadn’t moved on. Instead they’d had a lengthy meeting in what was supposed to an empty dormitory. The second years who normally resided there were on the week-long field trip. It didn’t take long before Serena and Elsa realized that it was a meeting that they shouldn’t have been an audience to.

  “Who was it?” Brijit asked.

  “Mistress Cowan, the headmaster of Stone Mountain Academy, one of their senior instructors and…” Elsa paused and looked at Serena before adding, “Raspella.”

  “Did they discover you?”

  Elsa shook her head. “No, but it was close.”

  “Too close,” Serena let out a shaky breath. “If they knew we were there I don’t know if we would have ever been allowed to leave given what we overheard.”

  Brijit was surprised. What could the girls have overheard that put them in such danger?

  “Brijit, you are the female chosen to serve as Séreméla apprentice this year.”

  “I know,” Brijit admitted with a frown.

  Elsa looked at her sharply.

  “I found some correspondence in Raspella’s room that outlined the details of my assignment. Although it didn’t really make much sense.”

  “That’s because you’re not going to Séreméla,” Serena told her seriously. “Brijit, I fear you’re in grave danger.”

  “What exactly did you overhear, Serena?”

  Her friend looked at the clock on the wall and shook her head. “We can’t be late. Not tonight. It would draw unwanted attention our way. We’ll talk after the ceremony, I promise. Then, maybe, between the three of us we can make some sense of all of this.”

  Brijit didn’t like to leave it but when she looked at the clock and saw how late it already was, she knew Serena was right. They would have to discuss what they’d discovered after the graduation ceremony.

  #

  Weylon surveyed the convocation hall, letting his senses attune to the different emotions running through the novices and teachers filling the space. He wrinkled his nose. There were far too many giddy girls present for his liking. He wondered if any of the females in the room took the role of Coimirceoirí seriously. From what he could tell, it certainly didn’t appear so.

  Regardless, he would be stuck with one of them when he went to Séreméla. The thought did nothing to lighten his mood. He wasn’t interested in supervising some silly female novice. Oh, technically he knew he wouldn’t be supervising her, but what he�
�d seen since they’d arrived at the school the previous evening made him think that he’d have a lot of work on his hands at the palace. The male students were constantly running into groups of girls staring at them. It was pathetic.

  “Wipe that grimace off your face or you’ll have all of them running the other way!”

  Weylon looked up from his dark musings to see his old friend, Finn, laughing at him.

  “Well, come on, Weylon, look at all the lovelies! And to think we will each be assigned one of them.” Finn grinned with appreciation.

  “Coimirceoirí aren’t to become involved with –”

  Before he could finish his sentence, Finn interrupted. “Ah, now, technically I believe the rules states that Coimirceoirí aren’t to marry anyone. Doesn’t mean we can’t have a bit of fun, now, does it?”

  Weylon studied the table in front of him. Finn didn’t take his commitments seriously, which ironically meant he would be in no danger of breaking the Coimirceoirí code forbidding marriage.

  “Weylon, even the Elders don’t expect us to be all work all the time. You need to loosen up.” His friend shook his head. “I would think you’d be celebrating, after all tonight it will become official that you’ll be off to Séreméla.”

  Weylon grunted but said nothing. Finn was unperturbed. He was used to Weylon’s moods. The truth was, Weylon would rather have skipped this party and got on with his assignment. There was no question that he would be the male apprentice going to Séreméla. No one in his year was even close to matching him in combat, defense and strategy skills. In addition, his ability to sense power and deceit meant he was one of the top students in the last fifty years. That he had to be shackled to one of these girls was grating.

  He’d even argued with his mentor that the old tradition be dropped. But Gregor refused to discuss such an idea.

  “Do you have any idea what the Elders would say if they could hear you, Weylon?” his mentor had asked with a shake of his white head. “I admit you are talented, but you need to learn a bit of humility. In Séreméla they won’t take kindly to your attitude.”

  Weylon had not replied. He thought a lot of the old traditions were merely the Elders’ way of controlling the masses. And he resented their superiority. A fact that he’d not attempted to hide, even though his mentor told him it would get him in trouble.

  “You may be the most gifted Coimirceoirí student in the last half-century,” Gregor acknowledged, “but your attitude will be your downfall. Don’t discount the female who will accompany you to Séreméla. You aren’t invincible, and you do have your weaknesses.”

  Weylon conceded that he wasn’t perfect, but from the look of the girls in this room, he doubted there was anyone who was even close to his match in skill. He scanned his fellow students and noticed how the male Coimirceoirí students were readily flirting with the females. It was ridiculous. They weren’t here to become friends with the girls.

  As his gaze passed over the giggling masses of girls, he was drawn to one. At first he hadn’t even noticed her; she was so understated. She wore the same formal graduation robes as all the other females, but she had done nothing to make herself stand out from the crowd. While the others had primped, putting their hair in elaborate styles and painting their faces, her face was clean and her brown hair hung in soft waves to just below her ears. The short style highlighted her large eyes, which were clearly grey even from this distance. She was watching the room with an expression of nerves and concern. He wondered if she was one of the candidates to be chosen from the Academy this year. He had to admit she was very pretty, although she did nothing to enhance her natural beauty. Not that she should, he reminded himself. As a Coimirceoirí student, her focus should be on other things. But looking at the abundant use of face paint and hair dressings on the other girls in the room, it was clear that most of the girls were focused on their male counterparts rather than their duties.

  “I wonder what she’s like,” Finn’s words interrupted Weylon’s musings. He looked at his friend and was surprised to find him also watching the understated female Coimirceoirí he had noticed. She wasn’t the type Finn usually went for. But then his friend went on, “Look at that hair!” and Weylon saw the tall, and indisputably beautiful girl with piles of blond waves standing at the elbow of the one who had attracted his own attention. On the other side of her was a very pretty dark-haired girl who seemed to be watching everyone at once with a look just short of terror on her face. He wondered why all three girls looked so distressed. Clearly, they weren’t in the same mood as their classmates, who continued to whisper excitedly in the background.

  Before he could reflect further on the girl in the corner, or her friends, the teachers were gathering on the dais and calling for the attention of the room.

  Almost against his will, he looked back to where the brown-haired girl and her friends had been standing, but they had vanished.

  #

  “Stop looking so worried, Elsa!” Serena hissed under her breath. “We don’t want to draw any unwanted attention.”

  “Too late for that,” Elsa moaned.

  Brijit looked at her in surprise and then glanced suspiciously around the ballroom to see if the instructors were watching them. But on the dais, Raspella, her red-haired instructor, was laughing with an instructor from Stone Mountain, a tall steely haired man. She didn’t even glance in Brijit’s direction.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Weylon Forborrow has already noticed us,” Elsa whispered.

  Brijit watched as the teachers finished organizing the scrolls on the table to the side of the dais. But Serena’s words captured her full attention. She looked at her friend. “Who?”

  “Weylon Forborrow is the most talented Coimirceoirí student in the last hundred years, or so some say.”

  Brijit was surprised. This was the first she’d heard of such a talented male student. Was it a coincidence that such a Coimirceoirí might exist this year?

  “Last fifty years, Serena, quit exaggerating everything,” Elsa scolded, then she tilted her head sideways. “The brooding one leaning on the pillar. Don’t look now; he’ll notice.”

  Ignoring her, Brijit looked across the room and saw a handsome, powerfully build young man watching the commotion at the front of the room with an expression of boredom and a hint of something else. She studied him for a few moments, trying to identify what it was. Suspicion, that’s was it. His eyes were flitting about the hall too quickly, as if he were looking for something. Or someone. Instinctively she pulled her friends to the side behind a pillar.

  “He’s already been told he’s going to Séreméla,” Serena confided. “He’s just waiting to see who will go with him.”

  Brijit raised her eyebrows in surprise. Novices were rarely told ahead of time of their assignments. For the others to know that he had been assigned to Séreméla early was telling. The instructors could have only one motive in revealing such information to the students: they wanted the rest of them to know they had an exceptional student in their class. But why would they want to spread such knowledge? It was out of character for them to share something like this with the students. Suspicion tickled her mind.

  Brijit looked at Weylon Forborrow again, trying to see what she was missing, but he looked like any other male Coimirceoirí, granted a very handsome student, but not so very special.

  “He’s that talented?” she mused, disbelief coloring her words.

  “I wonder if he’s as cranky as he appears. No one will envy you if he is, Brijit!” Elsa said.

  Brijit had to agree. He had what should have been a friendly face except it was marred with a scowl that made him wholly unapproachable.

  Before they could speculate further, a tinkling bell rang, announcing the start of the formalities. The hall, buzzing with excitement only seconds earlier, became completely silent almost instantly.

  The diminutive Mistress Cowan stepped forward and smiled at the students assembled. Brijit studied her, remem
bering that she had been part of the meeting her friends had inadvertently stumbled upon. Brijit wondered how much the headmistress knew about her assignment. She couldn’t help wondering if Mistress Cowan had argued in her favor or not. And was it possible that she knew about the dead child in the village, too? It seemed likely. Brijit didn’t think Raspella would be acting without Mistress Cowan’s knowledge.

  Mistress Cowan opened her mouth to speak but before she could utter a word, the doors to the convocation hall suddenly crashed open. Startled, Brijit and everyone in the hall turned. In the doorway three Elder knights were silhouetted. Her stomach dropped. As one, they stepped inside. All three were dressed in full armor. She had never seen Elders in full armor before. The sight was daunting. She saw that one had a huge broadsword strapped to his back while another had an Elder crossbow. They were dressed for battle. Fear began to creep up her spine.

  Mistress Cowan spoke from the dais, “Beriadan, what is the meaning of this?”

  “Our apologies for the interruption,” the tallest Elder said in a tone that was anything but apologetic. “We are here for our new Coimirceoirí.”

  The instructors on the dais rose in unison, their voices raised in protest.

  “We have not officially announced the Coimirceoirí assigned to Séreméla yet,” a wizened instructor from Stone Mountain said with disapproval.

  “We have no time for that,” Beriadan responded coolly, as his two companions began fanning through the crowded hall. One was striding right for her. The next words out of Beriadan’s mouth were no surprise to her. “Brijit Carnesîr and Weylon Forborrow. Come.”

  And without a moment to say goodbye, Brijit found herself being led from the great hall, confusion warring with disbelief. She needed to speak to her friends. They couldn’t just take her. But before she could digest what had just happened, Beriadan looked at her and spoke, confirming her fears. “We leave now.”