The Academy Journals Volume One_A Book of Underrealm

by Garrett Robinson

  “Ah. Very well, then. Another time.”

  There came the sound of another, much smaller door, and the cart rolled forwards again. The second door shut, and they found themselves in utter darkness.

  “This must be the closet,” whispered Kalem.

  “I think so.” Ebon risked peeling back one of the blankets and peeking out. Slowly his eyes adjusted to the scant light from under the door. They were indeed in a closet, filled with more carts like the one upon which they sat. He slid out and onto the floor as silent as a mouse, and Kalem quickly followed. Together they stole over to the door, where candlelight illuminated them from below and cast Kalem’s eyes in shadow.

  There was nothing to hear, other than the thin scribbling of quills on parchment from Theren and Egil, and Egil’s persistent cough. But Ebon knew there was another person in the room—a palace guard standing at the vault’s main door. He wondered suddenly if they should stay in the cart. What if the guard thought to investigate the closet?

  He was just about to reach for Kalem’s shoulder and say as much, but then in the room beyond, Egil dissolved into a fit of hacking coughs. They went on and on, until Ebon could fairly hear the phlegm splashing out of the old man and onto the table. He cringed.

  “Egil, are you all right?” Ebon heard swift footsteps as Theren went to his side. “Quick, run and get him some water.”

  “You get it,” came the voice of the guard.

  “I cannot—I am in the middle of my forms, and if I stop now I shall have to start over. Run to the kitchens. It will not take you a moment.”

  There was silence as the guard hesitated. But then they heard hasty footsteps as she left, and then a few sharp slaps as Theren pounded Egil on the back. Soon the coughing died away, and with effort he spoke in a rasp.

  “I am all right. I am all right. Thank you, Theren. Drat these fits. They are coming more and more often. Not long now.”

  “Do not be so morbid, old man.”

  He chuckled. “You are a good child, Theren. Thank you. You should get back to your forms.”

  “They can wait a moment. And besides, you should be going to bed. It is late, after all.”

  “Mayhap you are right. But I have not finished this page—”

  “The page can wait. You need your rest. Come on, off you go.”

  Another croaking chuckle. “Very well. You will make a fine mother one day, if you wish it—or you can simply continue to baby me.”

  “As long as you will let me. Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  Slow, shuffling footsteps receded. Then Theren ran to the closet and threw it open.

  “We must hurry. That took far longer than I thought, and we have little time.”

  Ebon and Kalem leapt up and followed her to a wide, iron door on their left. Theren threw the latch and flung it open, ushering them inside before closing it once more. Immediately she set off at a run down the hall, torches flickering to either side at the wind of her passing.

  They had no time to gather their bearings, but as they ran, Ebon noted their surroundings: thick wooden doors in rows to either side, each set in a stone arch with a pointed peak. Torches lit the place well, but left every corner flickering in shadow. The ceiling was oppressively low compared to the Academy’s usual spaciousness, and he found himself ducking with every other step. And something else was odd. His skin had begun to crawl from the moment he set foot in the vaults, hair rising on the back of his neck as though some danger pursued him.

  “This place gives me an ill feeling,” he said as they ran.

  “It is the enchantments,” said Theren. “They are worked into every door, but only wizards can sense them. They are the artifacts’ greatest protection.”

  “Not very good protection if we strode in so boldly,” Kalem pointed out.

  “They are for the rooms, not the halls themselves,” said Theren. “The rooms are where the darkest secrets are kept.”

  They turned a corner, and then another. The itching under Ebon’s skin increased until he wished to stop and claw at himself. Then Theren skidded to a stop, so quickly that Kalem and Ebon slammed into her from behind. There before them was a door—or rather, a frame, for the door was gone.

  “Here it is,” said Theren. “This is the room from which the artifact was taken.”

  “Well then, search for Lilith’s spell-sight,” said Kalem.

  “I will,” said Theren, glaring at him. “You go to the corner and keep a lookout.”

  Kalem ran off, grumbling. Ebon lingered as Theren fell to one knee and ran her hands along the edges of the doorframe, eyes glowing.

  Curious, he leaned over to look past her and into the room. It was a plain space, no more than four paces to a side, made of the same black granite as the rest of the Academy. But the floor was polished white marble, and in the center of the room sat a table of silver that stood on a single leg. The table lay bare. Looking still closer, he could see all sorts of designs traced into it. They looked familiar, but he could not place them—until he remembered the same sort of designs worked into the Academy’s front door.

  Theren looked up for a moment, following his gaze. “They are sigils of enchantment,” she said. She turned back to the door, but kept speaking. The soft glow of her eyes lit the iron framing under her fingers. “Meant to protect Kekhit’s amulet from thieves, but in some cases they protect anyone present from the power of the artifact.”

  “I should like to learn enchantment, if I can,” said Ebon.

  “I wish you good fortune,” said Theren. “There are few who teach it. Fewer still among alchemists.” Then her hands fell, and the glow faded from her eyes as she hung her head. “Damn it. Darkness damn it all.”

  “What?” said Ebon, stepping forwards quickly. “Is it her?”

  “No. I was certain it would be, but it is not.” Theren looked up in regret. “I am sorry.”

  Ebon muttered a curse. “And you do not recognize it as anyone else?”

  “No one that I know of. It is partially obscured, though done in haste. I only know that it is not Lilith, and that I know for certain.”

  Just then, Kalem came running down the hall towards them. “Someone is coming! We must flee!”

  “Who is it?” said Ebon.

  Theren gripped them both by the arm. “Never mind that—run!”

  She took her own advice, and they were quick to follow. Turn after turn she led them down, until Ebon was lost. Every hallway looked the same. Once he was sure they passed the same open door where they had started, but that was impossible. At last they found a place with a sort of alcove, in which rested a small iron bench.

  “Here,” she said. “Under the bench. It is the most likely place to be overlooked. And they will no doubt have lost us by now.”

  Kalem fell to his knees, and the hallway flashed white with the glow in his eyes. Stone melted away beneath his fingertips. Ebon knelt beside him and did his best to help. “Who was it?” he said through panting breaths.

  “I could not see,” said Kalem. “As soon as I heard their footsteps, I ran as quickly as I could.”

  SNAP!

  The air crackled with power. The stone, which only a moment before had been flowing like water, snapped back into place. In an instant, the wall was just as it had always been. Ebon and Kalem looked at each other in confusion—but then Ebon felt Theren’s hand tugging him up by the shoulder, and he rose to stand beside her. Before them stood Xain, eyes dark with fury, and Jia, with a white glow fading from her eyes.

  JIA MARCHED THEM THROUGH THE halls towards the dean’s office, one hand on Theren’s shoulder and the other on Ebon’s. Kalem followed meekly to the side like a beaten dog. Xain was just beside them, his footsteps silent.

  When they reached the door, Jia released Ebon’s shoulder to open it. Ebon began to step in, but she jerked him back. Xain hesitated half a moment before entering first, as though he had not expected such deference. He swept over to his desk and sat in the
wide, plush chair. Jia nudged them forwards before taking her place at Xain’s side. Ebon approached the desk meekly, eyes on his feet, and Kalem beside him; but Theren carelessly threw herself in one of the chairs.

  “Stand, Theren,” snapped Jia. “This is not some casual visit.”

  Theren obeyed without question, her expression calm. Standing beside Ebon, hands clasped behind her back, she spoke first. “You should let the two of them go. All of this was my idea.”

  Jia scoffed. “Even if that were true—and I have my doubts—they would be guilty for following you. We do not teach our pupils to blindly follow every mad suggestion that comes their way.”

  “I forced them to do it,” said Theren. “I said I would spread their darkest secrets through the school if they did not do as I asked.” Ebon risked a glance in her direction, but she kept her eyes on Jia.

  “Oh?” Jia arched an eyebrow. “And what dark secrets are those?”

  Theren spread her hands. “They did as I asked.”

  Xain had stayed silent and moved not a muscle. His hands gripped the arms of his chair, and Ebon might have thought the dean was not even listening to the exchange—and mayhap that was true, for his eyes never left Ebon’s face.

  But Theren’s casual indifference had struck a nerve in Jia, and she slapped her hand on the desk. “This is not some jest, Theren. You know the vaults are forbidden to students except in performance of their servitude, and you know why, better than most who study here. And as an aside, you have utterly disregarded the entire point of your services, and from this point on, you will help clean the privies instead.”

  Theren did not even blink. “That seems fair, Instructor.”

  Jia’s nostrils flared. “There will be more punishment than that, I can assure you.” She turned to Ebon and Kalem. “And the two of you. What were you thinking? Theren has some history of getting into trouble, but both of you are from proud families. I had hoped you might have some positive influence on her, not the other way around.”

  “I have told you it was my idea,” said Theren, speaking before Ebon could reply. “I have learned to read the signs of other wizards. I noticed while filling out my logs that something had been taken from the vaults, and I thought I might be able to discover who.”

  “Spell-sight,” Jia said with a snort. But then her eyes sharpened. “You did not sense anything, did you?”

  Ebon thought he saw the corner of Theren’s mouth twitch. “No, Instructor.”

  “And the two of you? What was your role in this foolery?” Theren opened her mouth again, but Jia raised a single finger and silenced her. “I have heard quite enough from you. I have directed my question at Ebon and Kalem.”

  Kalem looked uncertainly at Ebon. Ebon squared his shoulders. “Theren said she could use our help after she had searched for the … the signs of the other wizard’s power, or what have you. We were meant to use our transmutation to leave the vaults.”

  “So that you would not be detected. How fortunate for us, then, that someone had already warned us you might be trying to sneak inside. Students always seem to think that rumors only fly into their ears and not into ours.”

  At first Ebon was confused, but then he realized: Lilith. In anger at their argument, Theren had said she would prove that Lilith was the thief. Lilith must have guessed at their intent to sneak into the vaults and gone running to Xain or Jia. That explained how they had been found so quickly. Theren’s cheeks flushed red, and she ducked her head to hide the fury in her eyes.

  Xain moved for the first time, pushing back his chair and then standing to lean over his desk. Still his gaze was fixed on Ebon, who looked at the floor again.

  “I do not believe you,” said Xain softly. “I think this was a plot by the Drayden boy.”

  Ebon felt the blood drain from his face.

  Theren opened her mouth again, but Xain spoke first, and sharply. “Be silent. I speak not to you, but to him. What say you, Drayden? Do you deny it?”

  He could not raise his eyes. He did not know what to say. If he denied it, he condemned Theren. If he admitted it, though it was false, he would take the blame upon himself.

  But then Theren scraped her shoe upon the floor and cleared her throat. She had taken the blame from the first. Hopefully she had some sort of plan. So Ebon raised his head and met Xain’s eye. “The truth is as Theren told you.”

  “You lie. It is plain to read in your voice, as well as your eyes. Gather your possessions. You are banished from the Academy.”

  The world spun beneath his feet. A high whine sounded at the edge of Ebon’s hearing. His hand shot out to grip Theren’s arm, a desperate attempt to steady himself. But then Jia cleared her throat.

  “Dean,” she said quietly. “The Academy’s rules do not provide for such a punishment. Not unless you believe their intent was to use the vault’s artifacts to wreak havoc upon their fellow students—and then you would have to expel all three of them.”

  At that, Xain hesitated. He straightened slightly, sweeping his gaze to Theren, and then to Kalem. His jaw worked, muscles spasming under the skin. But at last he sat, leaning back in his chair and propping his chin upon his fist. “I have half a mind to,” he said, but the fire was gone from his tone.

  “Consider yourselves lucky we did not flood the hallways with flame, as is our right,” said Jia. “And consider yourselves on notice, as well. You will all receive punishments for this, and if you should do anything so idiotic ever again, I shall banish you myself. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Instructor,” they mumbled in unison.

  “Very well. Come.”

  They left the room on Jia’s heels. Once in the hall, they all turned their steps towards the dormitories—but Jia snapped her fingers and pointed. They paused, but when she did not move, they quickly followed her directions. She took them down the hall around the corner, where she stopped and glowered at them with arms folded.

  “What in the darkness below possessed you?” Her voice was now filled with a much greater fury than she had shown in Xain’s office. “That was by far the most foolish thing I have seen any student do in all my days here.”

  Ebon’s face burned. Xain’s hatred was easy to bear, for he knew it was rooted in a falsehood. But Jia’s fury was righteous, and he knew it. “We are sorry, Instructor. It will not happen—”

  “Again? It certainly will not. If it does, I promise that expulsion will be the least of your worries. How could you do this, Ebon, after we spoke in my office? And you, Theren.” She rounded on the girl. “Do not think I am unsympathetic to your situation. But also, do not think I would hesitate to throw you out of this place on your ear, no matter where you must go afterwards.”

  At last Theren showed her shame, cheeks darkening as she averted her eyes. Ebon stared at her in wonder. So Jia, too, knew the tale of Theren’s life outside the Academy, and the home to which she loathed the thought of returning. But he had little time to think on it, for Jia turned to him and Kalem.

  “I spoke no falsehood concerning your families. Your lineage has its share of stains, Ebon, but I thought you might wish to cleanse them. This is not how you go about it. And Kalem—you are royalty. Did you spare a single thought for how you would shame your king, if I were to send him word of his cousin behaving like a common thief?”

  To Ebon’s shock, Kalem burst out crying and hid his face in his hands. Jia stopped her tirade at once, and though she tried to keep her stern demeanor, her eyes softened. Tears spilled freely between Kalem’s fingers to drip on the stone floor, and he scrubbed at his nose with the back of his sleeve.

  “I did!” he sobbed. “I did think of it. But … it is only that I cannot stand it anymore. The sights we saw out on the streets. The instructors who were killed, and the students as well. And now Credell, who taught me only a few years ago. I see his face. I see all their faces, in my dreams, and sometimes with my waking eyes. I only … I only wanted to do something. Something to help. What if they come back for
us?”

  Jia’s face transformed to a vision of perfect shock, but no more so than Ebon. He realized his mouth was hanging open, and he closed it with a snap. Then he elbowed Theren so that she did the same. Jia turned to them.

  “Is this true? Is that why you embarked upon this mad scheme?”

  “Yes,” said Theren. “I told you I wanted to see if I could learn who had broken into the vaults. I suppose that was only half the truth. I thought … I thought that mayhap it might help defend the Academy. Somehow. It was a foolish thought, I know. If only there were something I could do … that we could do.” She raised her eyes to the sky, blinking hard as though fighting back tears. Ebon bit down on his tongue to keep from laughing, and kept his eyes on the floor to hide the smile.

  Kalem’s sobs redoubled, and he lurched towards Jia, wrapping his arms around her waist. She started, hands drawing back. But after a moment she lowered one to his hair and patted his shoulder awkwardly with the other.

  “Will Dulmun come back, Instructor?” said Kalem.

  “They will not,” she said softly. “They know that if they should try, the High King has now gathered much strength upon the Seat to repel them. And the instructors will keep you safe, besides. Now stop crying. It is unseemly for a son of royalty.”

  Kalem nodded and sniffed hard, stepping back and swiping at his nose again. Ebon reached out and draped his arm across the boy’s shoulders. He looked plaintively at Jia. “He has been inconsolable since the attack, Instructor. We have tried our best to comfort each other, but we all bear the same scars. We only thought that taking action—any action—might do us all some good.”

  Jia sighed. “I suppose I understand, at least in part. But you must never do anything like this again. If you find your thoughts so occupied, you may always come and talk to me, or whichever Instructor you prefer. We are here to help you, and to protect you. You must let us do both, or we shall indeed be in far greater danger.”

  Ebon nodded quickly. “Of course, Instructor. I understand. And we will not try anything of the sort again.”

  “Promise me.”