Tessili Academy

by Robin Stephen

Jey watched the incoming knife stroke with consternation, but Elle twisted to one side, danced past the incoming knife, and landed a kick on Nylan’s knee. There was an audible crunch. Nylan stumbled, releasing a hoarse cry of pain.

  The archers were getting organized now. Arrows fell in sheets. Jey could feel her fatigue, heavier and heavier as she wove her magic on the air. It was only a matter of time before one of the deadly shafts got through. Up at the main gate, there was the rattle of a chain. The hounds raised their voices in a chorus of excited baying as they surged out into the night. “Elle,” she screamed. “Leave him. There’s no time.”

  At last, her words penetrated. Elle looked up, taking in the flying arrows, the approaching dogs. As she turned her back on Nylan, she delivered one final kick, straight into his jaw. The Handler’s head snapped back. He collapsed onto the grass next to Kae’s body.

  As Elle ran towards Jey, her face was smeared with tracks of tears. Jey felt her own eyes were hot. It felt wrong, leaving Kae lying in the grass. It felt like a betrayal. But they had no choice. Kae would have wanted them to go.

  “We have to get into a deployment block,” Jey said. She gestured at her skimpy dress. “We need some gear.”

  ◈

  Liam had found the tunnel in his eighth year at Tessili Academy.

  He’d come upon it by accident. Unlike many of the professors he lived alongside, Liam was actually an academic. It was his studies, his work with magical text and theory, his curiosity about the history of the people who had once been able to wield magic, the Tessilari, that had gotten him noticed by the wrong people. Liam, young and curious and unafraid, had probed into places he should never have probed. He’d searched out information that had been systematically suppressed for centuries.

  It wasn’t until too late he realized he was playing with fire. He’d thought the histories he sought had merely faded, as histories will – falling out of collective memory with the passage of time. Never, in those days before his capture, had he so much as dreamed a place like Tessili Academy existed.

  By the time he’d realized what he was risking, it had been too late.

  Professor Liam had not left this island in the middle of the river in over two decades. In all likelihood, he would not escape this place through any means other than death. He’d spent a few angry years resisting, complaining, fighting. Then he’d gotten over it. He’d realized there was a library in the faculty compound, full of the exact kinds of texts he had used to seek out. He would have given his fortune to access such a place a few years before.

  So, he’d given in. He’d rekindled his devotion to learning about magic. For fifteen years, he’d taught the Passive Magic course to the girls. He’d taught them to create the holdstones that allowed their lessons to penetrate their drug-fogged minds. He’d led them on maintenance walks, instructing them to replenish and strengthen the magic that held them prisoner. He’d taught them to create the brutal wands the orderlies carried to stun the students into submission as a last resort.

  He’d done it all, year after year. He’d watched the girls grow up, grow distant and vague, and disappear.

  Three times, he’d tried to wake one up. Each time, it had led to her premature death.

  Now, Professor Liam stood at the window in his private chamber. The wall of the academy was alight with torches. He could hear the barking and baying of the hounds. He could see arrows glinting in the light of the torches as they fell. He’d come back to the faculty campus, running as fast as he could, dodging around frantic orderlies until he’d reached the store room that led to the strange slit in the wall that led to another slit and another slit that led at last to a tunnel that went below the wall and ended behind a bookshelf in the faculty library. He didn’t know how long Jey’s magic had stayed with him, but if anyone had seen him they hadn’t let on.

  Liam didn’t know who’d made the tunnel. He didn’t know if anyone other than him knew of its existence. He himself had never used it since the day he’d noticed a draft seeping out from below a section of shelves and gone exploring.

  If other faculty were awake, they were keeping to their chambers. Like Liam, each person here was a prisoner. When Liam had been offered the choice between the loss of his freedom and the loss of his life, he’d seen no alternative. The other men here were all the same. Though they never spoke of their past lives, though they never discussed the errors they’d made that had landed them here, Liam suspected he was not the only one who dreamed of seeing the academy fall.

  Outside, the night was bright with silver moonlight. Liam stared at the short bridge where the cobbled road passed over the river. He stared at that place because it was the last choke point, the final spot the girls might be caught. The academy was built on an island in the heart of the widest river in the land. A single fortified bridge connected this place to the mainland. He stared, even though he knew it would take a small miracle for the girls to reach the bridge at all.

  The challenges the girls were up against seemed insurmountable. The escape from the cloister, dodging hounds and orderlies, making it through and over the massive wall and past the guards on top. Although the seniors were strong in comparison to the other students, Liam alone, perhaps, understood how stunted these girls were. They could cast only a small number of spells. They were easily run to the end of their strength. If they made it over the wall at all, they would be too exhausted to conceal themselves any longer.

  Liam heard a scream. It was a girl’s scream, full of rage and despair. His heart sank at the sound. He could see activity around the gatehouse, could see the great gates swinging open. He clenched his fists on the windowsill as a pack of hounds poured out into the night.

  The sighthounds came first, graceful and fast on their long legs. They raced away into the darkness. The scenthounds came next. They were blocky things with swaying jowls. They ran with their noses to the ground, weaving back and forth, trying to catch a scent.

  Orderlies came behind, clutching stunrods.

  Once the dogs and men were through, the gates swung shut again.

  For a while, then, all was quiet. The voices of the hounds grew distant. The activity on the wall stilled. Liam stared out into the night, returning his attention to the bridge.

  It seemed an age passed. Liam strained and stared, his heart pounding, his mouth dry.

  Then, at last, he saw them – two girls, clad all in black. They moved from behind the deployment blocks and made for the bridge. There was a guardhouse there, the final barrier.

  The girls moved with more grace than even the hounds, long legs moving in an efficient rhythm as they gained the stone path. Liam glanced back, hoping to see a third. But there were only two.

  One of them scaled the wall, moving with a liquid grace that took Liam’s breath away. Although he’d seen them in class, they’d been hampered then, inhibited by their inefficient access to their own memories. Now his breath caught as the girl, dark hair flying, moved along the wall, mowing down the surprised guards like a scythe cuts wheat.

  The other waited, standing guard at the foot of the bridge. Her long hair was pale in the moonlight. She stood there, on the threshold of freedom, and her head turned in Liam’s direction.

  In the distance, a hound bayed. The first girl finished her work atop the wall and dropped out of sight. A moment later, the gatehouse portcullis lifted open.

  The light-haired girl stood a moment longer. Although she was too far away for him to be sure, she seemed to be looking directly at Liam. It was as if she could see him in his window, watching.

  Then, Jey raised one hand in farewell. She turned and pulled up her hood, becoming nothing but another shadow in the night. She crossed the bridge and disappeared.

  ◈

  Elle and Jey ran side by side. They’d found one of the deployment blocks open and moved through it in quick efficiency. They’d donned the dark leathers and cloaks they wore on their opportunities. The leathers were both flexible and sturdy, reinfo
rced with a magical weave. The cloaks had pockets. Jey and Elle divided the brillbane husks, strapped on a weapons belt each, and fled into the night.

  No longer half naked, no longer unarmed, the girls were unstoppable. Elle neutralized the guards at the gatehouse before they knew they were under attack.

  As Jey stood at the base of the bridge, waiting to make sure they weren’t attacked from the grounds, she noticed the hulking shape of the faculty campus. Many of the windows were ablaze with light. Figures stood in the windows. Most of the profiles seemed to be straining towards the academy.

  But one man was looking straight at the gate. Jey’s heart lurched when she realized she’d been seen, but then her anxiety vanished when she recognized the familiar outline. It was Liam, leaning against his windowsill. Jey felt a flare of relief. He’d made it back, somehow.

  That knowledge tucked itself in opposite the weight in Jey’s soul left by Kae’s death, a buoying shard of hope in this dark night.

  Behind her, the portcullis rattled open. Jey found herself grinning. There had been no need for Elle to open the gate. Jey could have climbed over quite easily. Her friend had done this as a final insult, a goad, a comment on how thoroughly the girls had overcome the barriers their captors had used to contain them.

  Jey looked towards Professor Liam for one more moment. There were so many things she did not know. She was seized by the sudden desire to go back, to break down the door to the faculty campus, to bring him with them.

  But there was no time. The hounds were baying again. They would have found Kae’s body by now. They were on the trail. Even once the girls crossed the bridge, the hounds would stay after them.

  But she was no longer worried. She and Elle, together, could hide their trail. Soon, they would recover from their fatigue. They had been trained to move undetected through the countryside. Jey and Elle had done it many times before.

  No, they could not take Professor Liam now. Jey knew that. As Elle, behind her, hissed, “Come on,” Jey raised an arm and held her hand aloft, a silent goodbye.

  But as she turned and fell into step beside Elle, she promised herself they would be back. She and Elle would return, someday, to Tessili Academy. And they would see this place never held another prisoner, ever again.

  For now, though, she had more prosaic concerns to face. The two girls trotted across the bridge, shoulder to shoulder, listening to the lazy ripple of the quiet river in the still night. They reached land, stepped off the bridge, and Jey spared one final glance at the island, distant now and ablaze with light.

  She felt the soft pressure of Elle’s hand in hers. As if her friend could read her thoughts, she whispered, “We’ll come back. We’ll come back when we’re stronger, when we know more. And we’ll free them all.”

  Jey nodded, thinking of Kae, who would never be free. She turned, dashing hot tears from her eyes. Then she took a deep breath. She and Elle, hand in hand, ran off the road and into the night.

  AVAILABLE NOW

  Tessili Rogue

  Chronicles of the Tessilari : Book II

  Robin Stephen

  ◈

  Ever since he’d been a boy, Lokim had wanted to leave the Valley of Mist.

  As a child, he’d tested the boundaries. He would make forays into the gray, swirling fog that encircled the valley. He’d keep going as his vision went soft, until the air grew muffled and chill. As the world faded from view his heart would begin to pound with fear. He would turn back when he was one step away from losing his memory of which direction led home.

  When he’d been older, he’d made a more serious attempt. One bright day he’d slipped into the fog and begun to walk. He’d moved ahead with determination, going further than he’d ever gone before. He’d walked and walked, certain with every step he’d make it, that the air would clear and he’d see … he’d see the world.

  Except, he hadn’t. After marching forward for an hour, he’d thought the fog seemed thinner. He’d hurried ahead, eyes, straining, only to find himself emerging from the mists in the precise spot he’d entered them. High Mage Agina had been waiting for him, eyes flinty, firm mouth set in a hard line.

  Lokim had known better than to try again.

  For a time, he’d given up. He’d contented himself with watching for rovers. Every time a group came in from their travels, he would ask for stories. Most of them developed a sort of annoyed fondness for the boy. They would answer questions if they had nothing better to do. But the rovers never stayed for long.

  When, years later, Lokim had his moment and succeeded in passing beyond the veil, he’d thought himself prepared. He’d mastered the skills the rovers said he would need to survive. He thought he understood the ways of the people he would find beyond the veil. Like all the Tessilari, he’d studied the histories. He knew about the Betrayal and all that had followed.

  He’d been prepared to find monsters. What he’d discovered was people.

  ◈

  Shai was not happy. Jey could feel his rage, boiling out of the tessila’s small body like dull heat, filling her with the desire to let him go.

  Jey was ignoring him. Or, at least, she was trying to. It wasn’t easy. The small creature lay within the grip of her left hand, delicate wings pinned to his small body, purple head protruding from between her index finger and thumb, tail lashing beyond her pinkie. Unlike Phril, Shai had a set of sharp spikes along the base of his skull. Jey’s hand now bled where he’d used these to stab her. It was tricky, holding him tight enough to prevent his escape, but not so tight as to do him any harm.

  Phril was also not happy. He did not like Jey to have contact with any tessila other than himself. He crouched on her wrist a few inches away from Shai. He was coiled into an angry knot, wings flared, hissing at the other tessila every time he stabbed Jey with the spikes.

  Jey was trying to read. Holdam had loaned her a text on the methods of preparing soft cheeses. It was an old book, well worn, with many of Holdam’s own notes written in the margins.

  After her long day working in the cheesery, Jey was exhausted. It was well past midnight. She glanced with longing at the two tidy beds that stood on the other side of the small room. They were both neatly made, plain woolen blankets tucked in, down pillows fluffed. I could lie down for just a moment.

  Jey squashed the thought. She knew better than to give in to fatigue. Her duty was to hold Shai. Shai did not want to be held. It would take only a moment of carelessness for him to escape her grasp. And that would be a disaster.

  Jey rubbed her forehead with her free hand. She moved her small dish of oil with its wick and flame closer to the book. The spidery handwriting on the page seemed to swim before her eyes.

  There was a tap on the chamber door.

  Jey jerked in her seat, resisting the impulse to fling Shai from her hand, launch herself across the room, and draw the two long knives from where they lay hidden beneath her mattress. She spat out a quiet curse, cast two quick passive echo spells—one on Phril, one on Shai—instructed Phril to hold still so the spell would actually work, and said in a mild tone, “Come in.”

  Jey turned in her chair. Her heart was pounding. Her desire to arm herself grew intolerably intense as the latch clicked and the door swung inward, spilling a little more light into the dim room.

  Biala poked her head around the door. Her long braid, shot with gray, hung down before one shoulder. Her expression, lit by the candle she held, was friendly. She looked into the room. “I saw your light. I admire your thirst for knowledge, Jey, but you young people should not neglect your rest.”

  Jey blinked in what she hoped looked like abstracted bemusement, gazing at the inky night outside the window. “I didn’t realize it had grown so late.”

  But Biala’s brow had furrowed as she took in the rest of the room. Her mouth compressed into a small frown. “But where is Elle?”

  Jey felt fatigue bloom through her as Shai increased his squirming in a sudden renewed bid for freedom. She was so
tired. If she couldn’t talk her way out of this, she’d have to cast a passive persuasion spell on Biala. Passive persuasions were Elle’s specialty, not hers. It was the last thing she needed.

  Jey stood, easing out of her chair and moving a few steps closer to the woman and her candle. She tried to do so in a way that suggested nothing more than a desire to stretch her legs. “She couldn’t sleep, so she went for a walk.” She made her tone mild and lazy, as if it was the most normal thing in the world for an 18 year old girl to wander outside, alone, at night, in the dead of winter.

  Biala’s eyes narrowed further. “A walk?” she said. “At midnight?”

  Jey was about the answer, but a sudden stab of pain in her hand caused her to almost cry out. Shai had flung his head against her hand with the greatest force he’d managed yet. The spikes on the back of his head bit into the base of her index finger. Phril, stirred to anger, leapt forward. He would have attacked the other tessila had Jey not cupped her free hand over Shai to protect him. Shai proceeded to pull his spikes free and drive them in again.

  Something of her pain and distraction must have shown on Jey’s face, because Biala’s eyes softened. She let out a small chuckle, looking again at Jey, the oil light, the book, the two empty beds. She winked and turned, leaving the astonished Jey to stare at her back. “Delari knows, there’s nothing like a full moon to inspire a late night rendezvous. I wonder who the lucky young man is.”

  Jey didn’t answer, and Biala withdrew behind the door. “See you both tomorrow,” the woman said. “But warn Elle there will be no lessening of duties for those who choose romance over sleep.”

  Jey, heart pounding, stood still until the latch clicked. Then she dropped the passive echo spells and glared down at Phril, who was trying to claw his way past her protective hand to get at Shai. “Stop it,” she hissed. “Phril. That is enough.” She made no attempt to shield him from the frustration and annoyance she was feeling.

  Phril, suddenly sulky, flew across the room to alight on the windowsill, seething with resentment. Jey removed her protective hand and looked down at Shai, who was glaring up at her, his sharp face smeared with her blood. Jey sank back into her chair. “Both of you need to calm down. You should know the drill by now.”