by Cathi Shaw
Chapter Three
Despite his commanding manner, Beriadan was wrong about them leaving immediately, much to Brijit’s relief. Mistress Cowan had quickly shown why she was in charge of all Coimirceoirí students. Brijit fought a smile as the tiny woman had stormed after the Elder knights and stopped them just outside the convocation hall.
She gave them a talking down loud enough for everyone in the vicinity to hear. Brijit had never heard anyone speak to Elders like that. And despite her anger with the Academy and what she had discovered, Brijit felt a wave of newfound respect for Mistress Cowan. With what she knew about Elders and the way they treated Coimirceoirí, Brijit was surprised when the headmistress’s tongue lashing worked. In the end, Beriadan conceded to give them the night to prepare for the journey.
Brijit was redirected to her rooms and instructed to pack quickly. She hoped to get Serena and Elsa alone there, but her friends were detained in the convocation hall. Apparently the rest of the graduates were still being given their assignments. Frustration bubbled up inside her, but she forced herself to focus on the task at hand, knowing her friends would return to their rooms eventually.
Brijit had just finished sorting what little clothing she could take on the trip when Raspella arrived in her rooms under the pretense of helping her pack. After what she had discovered in her mentor’s office, and her reluctance to speak about the dead child, Brijit didn’t trust her one bit. She wondered what her real motives were for coming to her room, and Brijit was tempted to question the older woman but she held her tongue. Brijit didn’t want to give away what she had discovered, and she was worried that if she got into an argument with Raspella, she might forget herself and mention what she had found. She knew Raspella would not approve of Brijit reading her personal correspondence and there was no possible reason Brijit could give for having searched her desk. So Brijit kept her mouth shut.
To her surprise, she found she didn’t have to talk. Raspella was so livid about the change in plans and the way the Elders had taken over the ceremony that she bubbled over with complaints. For years, the superior attitude the Elders held with respect to the Coimirceoirí had been a sore topic for her mentor.
While Raspella had not been a chosen apprentice, her older brother had been. Or he had been until his early death. The Elders had not even returned his body to the family, a common practice, according to Raspella. She said they didn’t respect the Coimirceoirí enough to even return their dead. It was just one of many faults her instructor had listed when it came to the Elders. This was why her seeming obedience to the Elders had bothered Brijit so much after their return from Merryville. She thought Raspella would have been eager to share what she knew with her star student, but that had not been the case. At the time, Brijit had wondered if her mentor’s distaste for the Elders was just a show that she put on for the students. But if it was an act, she never seemed to fall out of character – except that one time.
Raspella continued to fume that the Elders were grandstanding to show their control over the students. She told Brijit that the other instructors were similarly outraged, but Brijit doubted any were as angry as Raspella.
While the Elders had agreed not to leave immediately, they had insisted that the chosen apprentices be ready to leave at dawn. Then they had disappeared to find their own shelter for the night.
After Raspella vented enough to regain her usual composure, she smiled at Brijit.
“Are you excited, my dear?” she asked.
Brijit swallowed and looked at her mentor. The quick change in her mood was a bit disconcerting. She automatically shielded herself from Raspella, not caring if her mentor noticed. Brijit didn’t trust herself to keep her emotions hidden when the older woman was so clearly putting on an act. Brijit remembered the letter she had read, remembering that Raspella had spoken against her being sent to Séreméla. Brijit wondered if she would ever uncover the potion instructor’s real motives. The fact that her mentor would argue against Brijit being chosen was more than just insulting. It was surprising.
It was a great honor to have one of your own students picked as the Academy apprentice. In fact, Raspella had never had one of her own make the cut before. A potions instructor rarely had a student as gifted as Brijit or, if they were, they were not typically seen as useful to the Elders.
Brijit looked at Raspella, who was watching her closely. For five years she had been like a mother to her. Her red hair, streaked with silver, hung in luscious curls midway down her back. Her brown eyes seemed to be full of love. Her unlined face looked like it always did: innocent and kind. Part of Brijit wanted to believe that Raspella had her best interests at heart, but she couldn’t help remembering how her mentor had behaved in the last few months.
Brijit’s distrust deepened. How long had Raspella argued against her being selected to go to Séreméla? Had she been against her from the start? How many lies had Raspella told her over the years?
Anger filled Brijit again, but she swallowed it back. Deceit was deep in the Academy. She had known that for years now. She had foolishly believed that Raspella was innocent and unaware of it all. This was her own fault for being naïve.
It was in her best interest now to push her emotions down and play along with whatever game Raspella was orchestrating. She only had a limited amount of time left to get information from her instructor. And the best way to do that was by playing dumb. She couldn’t let them know that she was onto the illusion they so desperately wanted her to take as the truth. She could attempt to unravel how deep that illusion went later. For now, she had to try to get as much information as she could.
She focused on Raspella’s earlier question. “Am I excited? I’m not sure if excited is quite the right word,” she said carefully. “I am pleased.”
That seemed to satisfy the older woman. Brijit continued to fold her clothes as Raspella continued to watch her closely. She doubled the energy she was using to shield herself from the older woman, ignoring the prodding sensation she always felt when someone with power tried to break through her shield. After a few more moments, however, the prodding stopped, and Raspella nodded in satisfaction.
Brijit was surprised. Her instructor seemed almost pleased that she had blocked her. Why? Raspella had to know that she was shielding herself. When one put up such a strong shield not only were one’s feelings inaccessible to anyone who prodded, but one became like a blank slate. Those trained in probing others (as all instructors at the Academy were) would sense when someone was shielding themselves. So Raspella’s next words surprised Brijit.
“I’m very proud of you, my dear.” Her mentor’s eyes glinted with some unreadable emotion. Before Brijit could decipher it, Raspella held out a small bag. “I’ve brought this for you.”
Brijit smiled uncertainly and reached for it. But as she took it, Raspella’s strong fingers closed around her upper arm in a grip like a vice. Brijit looked at her, startled.
The kind emotion was wiped from her instructor’s face, and for the first time Brijit saw the true Raspella beneath. It was as if her normally calm face was etched in stone, her eyes filled with hatred and anger. If she didn’t have such a strong hold on her, Brijit would have stepped back from the hag that appeared in front of her.
“I would have done the same as you, my dear. I have trained you well. Keep the information you discovered close to your heart and keep yourself safe.” Brijit didn’t have time to process her shock. Then Raspella emphasized, “It is imperative that you stay safe. You are an integral part of the Prophecy.”
And before Brijit could respond, Raspella released her and swept from the room without a single backward glance.
Brijit’s legs were shaking and threatened to give out. She sat on the edge of her bed, drawing in some deep breaths, gasping for composure. This is could only mean one thing: Raspella knew she had seen the letter and perhaps she knew that she had taken the map.
Brijit shook her head. Of course she knew. She cursed her own stupidit
y. Her mentor wouldn’t normally have left such an important piece of correspondence just sitting on her desk. Nor would she have been absent for an entire afternoon from her labs and left her office door unlocked. She had done all those things intentionally.
Brijit closed her eyes and shook her head. How could she have been so stupid? Raspella wanted her to find out about the change in plans, but why didn’t she just tell her? Brijit smiled bitterly. It was obvious, wasn’t it? Raspella would have been forbidden to tell her. She couldn’t stop Brijit from snooping around, though. She had always believed Raspella was one of her only allies at the Academy. Perhaps the potions instructor had truly been on her side all along.
But then why did the letter suggest that Raspella had objected to her being selected? What reason could Raspella have for speaking against her?
Unless she knew more about what was in store for her star student than Brijit imagined, and she had been attempting to keep her safe. A shiver of fear ran down her back.
She looked at the small bag that was still in her hand, the one Raspella had been offering her. Opening the drawstrings, she saw that her mentor had put together a kit filled with herbs and remedies Brijit might need on her travels. Another kindness that seemed to go against what Brijit had discovered that afternoon. Raspella’s motives were too muddied to see clearly.
Brijit reflected on the events of the evening. She frowned, thinking about how the Elders were so easily swayed by the headmasters of the two institutions. From their demeanor upon entering the ceremony it had appeared that they expected the Coimirceoirí to do as they instructed. But they had backed down quickly. It seemed that the headmasters had more sway with the Elders than they would have the students believe.
With a sigh, Brijit returned to her packing. Carefully she tucked the small bag Raspella had given her into her saddlebag. She had a feeling that she was going to be glad that she had that particular gift.
She reached into the side pocket of her saddlebag to make sure the map was still there. But before she could pull it out and study it, the door to the room swung open and Elsa and Serena entered.
“Brijit!” Elsa exclaimed.
Brijit left the map where it was and turned to hug her friends. “I was getting worried about you two. It’s so late.”
“We were told you were gone,” Serena told her.
“What?”
“All the students were told that you and Weylon had left with the Elders.”
Brijit shook her head. “Mistress Cowan told the Elders that they couldn’t have us until morning because we needed time to pack.”
Serena looked at her sharply. “Mistress Cowan argued with the Elders?”
Brijit nodded. “I was surprised, too. But she was adamant that we not leave until dawn. The Elders agreed, readily. They didn’t even question what she was asking.”
“Wow,” breathed Elsa. “I didn’t think any Coimirceoirí would challenge an order from the Elders.”
“Neither did I,” Brijit admitted. Then a thought occurred to her. “But perhaps that’s how they want students to interpret the dynamic. If we think Coimirceoirí have no power in our relationship with the Elders, then we will be more willing to accept what the Elders ask of us.” She paused and then shifted the topic back to what her friends had said. “Hold it, why were you told we were already gone?”
“That’s a good question,” Serena remarked drily. “Not only were we told you were gone but we were told to sleep in the West Dormitory tonight.”
Clearly the Academy instructors didn’t want her friends to see her. But why?
“We snuck out,” Elsa added unnecessarily. Brijit would expect nothing less from them.
“Of course you did,” she remarked with a grin, then she sobered up. “The question remains, why did they want to keep us apart?”
“I don’t know,” Serena mused, “perhaps it has something to do with what we overheard.”
“Do you think they knew you were there?” Brijit asked in concern, hoping this wasn’t the case. She didn’t want to think that her friends might be in danger.
“I didn’t think so, but now I'm starting to wonder –” Serena trailed off.
Tired of waiting for her friends to explain, Brijit blurted out, “What did you discover?”
Elsa flopped on her bed and began to tug her boots off. Serena started to pull pins from her golden hair. “Some of it you already know. Obviously that you’re the Academy apprentice this year and that you’re not going to Séreméla.”
Brijit nodded.
“But they spoke of a Prophecy and a mark and a lot of other stuff we didn’t understand,” Elsa piped in.
Brijit stomach dropped and she thought about the body of the small child in Merryville. Bile rose in the throat. “What did they say about the mark?” she asked.
“Not much. They said, ‘It has begun,” whatever that means, and then Raspella told them that the mark was beginning to appear. It made little sense to us but it definitely meant something to them.”
Brijit frowned.
“Does that mean something to you, Brij?” Serena asked with concern.
Brijit nodded then shook her head. “Maybe…I don’t know.” She looked up at her friends and saw the worry on their faces. She hadn’t told them about what had happened in Merryville. Even though she was angry with Raspella for not discussing it with her, she had still kept her promise not to tell the others. Now she didn’t know why she had kept that confidence.
“I need to tell you something, but promise you won’t get mad at me for keeping it a secret.”
Elsa sat up, her pretty face creased with concern. “What is it?”
“Remember when I went on my last healing test with Raspella few months ago?” Her friends nodded. “Well, something happened that Raspella made me promise to keep to myself. But I think I need to tell you.”
Her friends were silent as Brijit outlined what had happened in the village. When she finished, her friends had identical expressions of horror on their faces.
“The villagers actually killed the child?” Serena asked.
Brijit nodded. “That’s what Raspella led me to believe.”
“And she said it was a good thing? What kind of person says it’s good to kill a small child?” Elsa’s voice echoed with the horror Brijit had felt when she first discovered the little girl’s body in the town hall.
“She said they were acting on Elders’ orders.”
“But why?” Serena asked, her voice filled with disgust. “What possible reason could they have for hurting an innocent?”
“The child had a distinctive mark, like a tattoo, on her shoulder,” Brijit told them.
“Who would tattoo a child?” Elsa asked, her eyes widening in shock.
Brijit shook her head. “I have no idea. I just know that the reason they killed her seemed to be related to the mark on her shoulder. Raspella insisted that they show it to her before she confirmed that the killing was carried out according to Elders’ orders.”
“What did it look like?”
Brijit looked at her friends and then closed her eyes. She had to trust someone, and judging by their response to what she’d told them, she felt that she could trust Elsa and Serena. Brijit reached inside her robe and pulled out the pendant Grandmamma had given her. “It looked exactly like this.”
Elsa let out a hiss and jumped off her bed, her eyes filled with horror. “Where did you get that, Brijit?” her voice shook.
Brijit looked at Serena, surprised by Elsa’s reaction. Serena looked equally confused by the dramatic response.
“My grandmother gave it to me. I thought it was just a family heirloom.” She saw the horror growing on Elsa’s face. “What do you know about it, Elsa?”
“That’s a triquetra, Brijit. It is used by magik wielders. Is your grandmother a Kurunii?”
Serena was staring at Brijit with an expression of horror on her face now as well.
“No!” Brijit said, surprised. “Gr
andmamma is the village wise woman. She is not a witch.”
“She doesn’t wield magik?” Elsa asked doubtfully.
“No!” Brijit exclaimed again even as doubt began to filter through her. A memory of her grandmother in her herb- and potion-filled kitchen with a pot simmering on the stove surfaced. Not unlike Raspella’s potion room, except Grandmamma was known to sometimes chant over her recipes. Brijit hadn’t thought anything of it. She assumed all wise women did the same.
She tried to remember what she knew of the Kurunii. They were a dying breed. The Elders had outlawed witchcraft in Five Corners. Her grandmother had been very vocally opposed to the law that had come down about a decade ago, insisting that it was discriminatory to women in general and wise women in particular.
Brijit remembered her grandmother’s angry words when the law had been imposed. “The Elders have always thought that they are the only ones who have the right to wield magik but they waste it, causing more harm than good. They don’t treat it with the respect it deserves,” she’d fumed.
Brijit had always assumed that Grandmamma was so outspoken against the Elders because they were privileged in Five Corners and paid little mind to the small villages and poor residents that her grandmother helped. But now she thought about it, she couldn’t help wondering if Grandmamma had a more vested interested in protesting the Elders’ ban on magikal use outside of Séreméla. What if her grandmother’s very livelihood depended on the use of magik?
Brijit looked at her friends in shock. She shook her head even as the pieces came together. How the Elders had started trying to recruit her and take her away from her grandmother as early as her sixth birthday. How her grandmother had steadfastly refused to let her train with the Elders at the Academy until Brijit was old enough to insist that she be given a chance. How absolutely against her leaving Grandmamma had been.
