Tessili Academy
Page 10
But they did not know the drill. Tessili were famous for their intractability, but it seemed to Jey both Shai and Phril had been increasingly volatile lately.
She knew Phril was, in part, reacting to her own stress. The truth was, Jey hated these nights – the nights Elle crept off through the darkness to break into Tessili Academy.
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Lokim tracked the girl with relative ease. Though she moved through the night with the grace and silence of a hunting cat, Lokim had gotten used to her ways. He knew the way she walked, the places she stopped to watch for pursuit, even the signature of her magic. For the last six months, he’d followed her every time she left the cheesery.
For the last six months, time after time, he’d tried to gather the courage to approach her. But he never had.
The girl, Elle, she was called, paused before stepping into the shallow stream. She would now walk in it for a time, making it more difficult for the hounds to follow her scent. He winced as he watched her step into the cold water. The night was bitter. Shards of ice had formed along the edges of the stream. Elle waded along, her dark leathers soaking up the chill water. Lokim waited until she was all but lost in the darkness before hopping to the other side, keeping his own feet dry.
About a hundred yards down the stream an old, gnarled tree grew above the water. Elle paused and jumped, grabbing a long branch with her gloved hands. She dangled for a moment, then pulled herself up. She moved along the branch and down the trunk. Feet once more on the ground, she broke into a steady jog, heading towards the outskirts of Deramor and the cheesery where she now lived.
Lokim let out an admiring breath. He’d never seen anyone so graceful, so smooth, so slender and yet so strong. This was one of several spots Elle and Jey used the stream to confuse the dogs and throw them off the trail. So far, it had always worked.
Lokim waited until Elle was almost out of sight. He was about to move again, to follow, when he saw something. It was a faint blur, a shifting in the shadows at the corner of his eye.
He froze, listening. The flowing of the cold stream was a silver chuckle in the still night. He waited.
Another girl emerged from the darkness. She, too, moved with the intent grace of a predator. But unlike Elle, she was not familiar to him. Although Lokim had never seen her before, she wore the same dark leathers as Elle, the same twin knives strapped to her hips. She did not wet her feet, but hopped the stream and paused for a moment, listening.
Lokim’s hand flew to the knife on his belt, but the girl was intent on one thing. She continued, tracking Elle as surely as Lokim was.
As the girl disappeared into the dark woods, Bliz swept in a sudden, agitated loop around Lokim’s head. Lokim held out a hand and the orange tessila alighted. He ran a finger along the sharp edge of her chin. “Shush, brilliant one. It’s ok.” He said these words in the barest of whispers as he began to move, tracking the girl who tracked Elle.
What did it mean? Lokim had developed some theories in the last months, but he had no answers. He didn’t know why Jey and Elle returned to a place they appeared to loath, time after time, but he had his guesses. Now, it appeared, their visits had been noticed.
Around him, the woodland that stretched between the walled island and the outlying settlements of the country’s capital was empty and silent. For six months, Lokim had told himself he would make contact, he would talk to them. Tomorrow.
But now it seemed tomorrow might be too late.
As Lokim walked, tracking the ghost of the movement that was the second girl, he seemed to hear High Mage Agina’s voice, speaking in his head. Do not trust your ally. He will betray you. Allies are more dangerous than enemies, for they wear a false face. The only true bond is blood.
These words had held him immobile for six months. They’d held him back, kept him cowering in the shadows, waiting, watching, hoping for some way to know if it was safe to reveal himself. He didn’t know if these girls would turn out to be allies or enemies, or a little bit of both.
Now, he realized with a sudden sense of clarity, revealing himself would never be safe. Nothing he’d done since he’d left the Valley of the Mist was safe. But that did not mean it wasn’t worth doing.
In the darkness, Lokim drew his knife.
About the Author
Robin has always been enamored with magic.
When she was a child, that meant reading books. When she was a slightly older child, it meant trying to write her own. She produced her first attempt at a fantasy story at the age of 10. It was an unintentionally blatant (and considerably less well executed) rip-off of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.
Fortunately for everyone, Robin's stories have gotten a little more original over the years. She currently lives in Iowa City, where she hangs out with her husband, trains horses, and writes.
learn more at robinstephen.com
Robin also writes contemporary western romance
If you like horses, love stories, and the desert, explore Robin’s work under the pen name Stefani Wilder. Her book, A Man Who Rides is available now.
see stefaniwilder.com for details