The blue of its eyes flashed with sudden interest. Not even a noble? But you must have some noble blood if you can see the dome. Half-breed then? But you hate that term. I’ll just call you by your name then. Kol, right?
Kol took a step back. “Can you . . . read people’s thoughts?”
Not exactly. I communicate with thought, so it is only natural that I receive something back. It isn’t as fluid as verbal communication with creatures not meant to use it, but it can be helpful. Mostly, it’s just a general feeling. For example, you are rather annoyed right now.
Kol rolled his eyes, turning away. “I wonder why.”
It’s the thought thing, isn’t it? It always is. Why you humans are so touchy about it is beyond me. It’s not like you ever think of anything all that interesting, and when half the castle would skin me alive for King Dathan’s gold, it certainly helps to know who I’m dealing with.
“King Dathan? King Garrad is dead?” Kol had no love for the former king, or any of the other Garrads who came before him, but he didn’t like what he heard about his son one bit.
Where have you been? It happened days ago, and it’s big news around here.
“Mostly unconscious in Sorren’s manor. Why does the king want you dead?”
The dragonet paused. He has a bit of a temper. I guess I called him a spoiled, incompetent brat one too many times. Not that he didn’t deserve it. You see, Dathan was very keen on inheriting me from his father, but I wouldn’t allow it. He would’ve continued to dismiss my advice. He only wants my magic to help him with his foolish wars, but I’ve had more than enough of that kind of nonsense. So the night the king died, I left the castle.
The dragonet leaned forward, its tail unspiraling from the tree. Now enough about me. What about you? I know you hate wizards, which is why you avoided them for so long, but you came in contact with a large source of magic that made your powers grow more erratic. What source was that?
“Why don’t you tell me?” Kol was used to keeping secrets. It was unnerving to have someone know so much in a glance, even a weird-looking lizard.
Especially a weird-looking lizard.
Weird-looking? The dragonet flinched as if wounded. Vergos give me strength. Keep this up, and I might reconsider my decision to take you as my new companion.
Kol blinked. “Wot?”
Dragonets always have companions, and it seems to me we both want the same thing—to leave this place far behind. It would be much easier if we helped each other.
“Do you know a way around the magic wall?” Given the choice between the robes and the lizard, he’d take the lizard in a heartbeat.
I haven’t finalized a plan on how to do it, but you’ll find I know quite a bit if you are willing to listen. The dome is a magical shield that goes over the Tower and the castle. It’s very old and very effective in keeping everything on one side or another. The wizards today would have no idea how to cast another like it, even if they found a large enough power source to use. Lucky for them, parts of it were made weak enough for trigger words to temporarily disable, like where the main road is.
“You don’t know the trigger words by any chance? Haven’t read a wizard’s mind lately?”
No. The guards get bored and change the words every few minutes. And even if I knew them, they require some human magic behind them and my magic is vastly different.
Kol nodded and turned toward the main road.
Where are you going?
“To stab a gatekeeper. See if that works.” He doubted it would, but if the robes were going to find him and beat him back into submission anyway, he might as well do something to deserve it. “You can come if you want.”
The dragonet flew to a tree ahead of him. As much as I admire your spirit, your strategy is all wrong. I know you aren’t really that stupid. Don’t let your anger toward the wizards blind you to the opportunity you have here.
Kol stopped, his arms folded. “I’m listenin’.” And it better be good. The wizards in the Tower could get wise and come after him at any moment.
Just because you don’t have the magic to get through the wall now doesn’t mean you can’t learn it. And yes, they will train you. Despite what you’ve heard, they care a lot more about magical power than pedigree, and you have plenty of that. They might even be pleasant about it if they think you are civilized. If not, they’ll hand you over to someone like Sorren. You might still learn magic from him, but you might not enjoy it so much.
They would train him? Could they really be that stupid? He would kill them all if he had enough power. “They wanted to give me to someone named Arius.”
The dragonet nodded. One of the Der’helder twins? A reasonably better alternative.
“You mean I should play nice, learn the magic, and then bust out?”
See? I knew you weren’t stupid.
Kol glared, but the only other plan he had would lead to his own death if he failed, and the same if he succeeded—only he would be taking a few more wizards with him. Not really a victory.
Kol swallowed the flames in his chest and turned his glare to the stupid, sad wall. He kicked it before turning around, but it didn’t make him feel any better about the situation.
It just hurt his foot. “Fine. We’ll try it your way.”
When Kol reached Xavian’s room, the door was open between the two wizard boys. “Peter, you idiot. Do I look like a half-breed to you?” asked the boy Kol had thrown into the room.
Peter’s head tilted, completely befuddled. “Jakkin? What were you doing in there?”
“Came looking for you, and he put me in here.” Jakkin pointed down the hall.
Kol shrugged as both boys stared him down with equal fear and malice. “Yeah, my mistake,” he said. “First day ’ere. A guy can get all turned around.” He strode past the staring wizards into the room, handing the robe off to Jakkin. “Can you tell Arius I’ll see ’im whenever he’s ready? Thanks.” He closed the door.
The red dragonet escaped from Kol’s vest, twittering. Probably its imitation of a laugh and the only audible sound it had made so far. Kol felt too tense to join him.
Lizard better be right about this, or it wouldn’t be laughing much longer.
CHAPTER 24
KOL PACED THE wizard’s sitting room, his frustration building, flames in his head rapidly returning. Why did they even bother to bring him here if they were just going to ignore him?
The wind stirred, and Kol did nothing to stop it. The windstorms had already trashed the sitting room, not to mention the abuse Kol rendered on the door. If he pushed things farther out of place, it was no more than the wizards deserved.
The dragonet sat on top of a bookcase, shaking its head. If you are bored, perhaps you could find something a bit more useful to do.
“Like wot?”
Like reading, for example. More than one way to learn something around here.
Kol picked one of the books off the floor by the spine, holding it as gingerly as a boy pilfering it. Last time he had tried to read a book, it had been snatched away from him. Few of the boys in his group could read more than a handful of words at a time. Just enough to get through fragmented, coded messages. To do anything else was asking for trouble.
But then, he was already in trouble. What was a bit more?
Though it wouldn’t do for the lizard to think he liked the idea. “Do you plan on orderin’ me about the whole time we’re together?”
The dragonet rolled its eyes right back at him. That’s gratitude for you. All right, what would you like me to do while you’re studying?
“Don’t know. Get me some food or somethin’. I’m starvin’ and can’t really trust anythin’ they might give me.”
Fine. Care to open a window for me?
Kol threw one of his daggers. It pierced through the window with a satisfying crack.
After the dragonet was gone, Kol went through one of the smaller doors to a bedroom and sat on the wizard’s bed. The book had a black co
ver with a gold-inked title: The Nature of Magic. Millions of tiny words crowded the single page.
He was over his head, but Kol pressed forward anyway. He had always wanted to read. He hid old posters and pamphlets from his band all the time, building on the lessons his mother had started so long ago. She had said he was gifted—so gifted the robes couldn’t help but burn her in their home to get to him.
Kol found the narrator long-winded and dull. He skimmed ahead whenever this noble or that and some far-off land was brought up, but he did learn, or, at least, had confirmed, something of the nature of magic. It was an energy source that every part of the earth possessed. Some things—the author had provided him with a rather long and tedious list—contained more than others, and humans only had the smallest bit. Even the wizards. They just saw it in other sources and drew it out.
Here the wizard digressed that the magic contained in a human was small, but essential to life. If the spark or inner fire were ever drawn out, the human would die. This was not a very common occurrence. The magic the wizard would receive from drawing out another’s spark would be less than if he just called to the wind. It would be much easier to use a physical weapon if it was a matter of wanting someone dead.
Then he listed several examples where such an occurrence had taken place. For all their fancy talk, wizards were cruder than drunken brawlers.
Kol tossed the book aside, grabbing some of the food the dragonet had found. Either the dragonet had raided a garden or thought humans only ate plants. He stretched his legs, exploring the wizard’s apartment. He found a few smaller rooms meant for children and a washroom with basins that filled themselves.
After he was done playing with that, he slicked back his wet hair and returned to the wizard’s bed and the rest of his food.
Incoming, the dragonet sent the thought from its unknown hiding place.
Kol whirled around, then instantly settled back down. He ignored the approaching footsteps and only glanced from his book when the wizard stood at the foot of the bed. He might have to play nice, but he had no intention of jumping for this man’s pleasure. Crumbs all over the sheets might be the best revenge he had left.
The newcomer looked like a half-starved caricature of Xavian, long-limbed and skinny with wild straw-colored hair of a scarecrow. Instead of the well-trimmed beards of other wizards, whiskers poked erratically from his chin as if he hadn’t bothered to shave in a few days. His red robe, though clean, was wrinkled and his eyes were wide with intense interest.
Kol knew Sorren wouldn’t let him go completely without forming some new plot. His planned revenge seemed to include passing Kol to the most pathetic excuse for a wizard Sorren knew. “Welcome,” Kol said. “You Arius? I’m Kol. Feel free to sit down anywhere.” Kol turned his eyes back to his book.
The wizard blinked. “Huh?” Then he shrugged and found a chair as directed. “This is not what Xavian and Sorren described at all.”
“Wot, did they tell you I wouldn’t eat my vegetables or wash behind my ears?”
“Something like that.” Arius peered at the books spread out on the bed. “You read?”
Kol scrunched his face together in an exaggerated fashion. He took another bite of his carrot and chewed with his mouth open. “’Course not. Where would someone like me learn ’ow to read? I’ve got a very simple mind and lookin’ at these funny squiggles amuses me.” So maybe that wasn’t playing nice, but it was the only response that kind of question deserved. Besides, if he played it too nice, no one would ever buy it.
He tensed, waiting for the wizard to strike him with air.
Arius laughed. “One thing is for certain—you would’ve driven Sorren mad.”
“Is that wot ’appened? Here I was thinkin’ he was just cranky, but I’d hate to ’ave ’im feelin’ poorly on my account. Be sure to send ’im my apologies next time you see ’im.” Maybe he could mop up all the blood he so rudely left behind. Stains like that never got out of the carpets.
Arius flinched, turning away. “Fortunately for us all, Sorren went back to the front. After my brother and I assured him we could handle you.”
So the wizards weren’t friends. Interesting.
Kol tossed his book away, sitting cross-legged on the bed. His ribs complained again, but he wouldn’t wince. Not here. “Well, you got me. Wot’s next? Bein’ thrown against the wall was fun and all, but I’m hopin’ you’ll be a bit more creative. Flames, lightnin’, that kind of thing.” He pulled out one of his blades to fiddle with.
“You think I’m going to torture you? Why?”
“You’re a robe. Comes with the territory, don’t it? Love killin’ half-breeds or anyone who challenges your power. I can be quiet if you want, or would you prefer it if I yell?”
“I guess I should’ve expected this. You grew up in Sorren’s holding, right?”
Kol scowled. Throwing him against the wall hadn’t worked, neither would this clumsy attempt at the softer approach. The Lord had practically invented all such tactics, and Kol had no intention of having them used against him.
Calm yourself, Kol. You need a wizard to teach you and he may be your best option.
Fine. Kol would answer the wizard’s stupid questions. He might even be truthful. As The Lord said, sometimes the truth was just as good as a lie. “Grew up all over.”
Arius nodded, leaning in. “Really? And your parents?”
“Mom died a long time ago. If you figure out who my dad is, tell ’im I said hi.” Kol stabbed an apple on his plate. He had only seen his wrinkled father once and never learned his name, but if he saw him again, he would kill him. He would burn the old man like Kol’s home was burned.
“And your magic? When did that start?”
“Always had it. Never wanted it. Tried not to use it. Anythin’ else?”
Arius stood, glancing behind his shoulder. “I’m supposed to show you to the council—”
“So they can hit me with lightnin’?”
“Of course not. They just want to meet you. But I was hoping, since you don’t have your own wizard house, that I could tell them that you agreed to adopt mine. As my apprentice.”
“You’re gonna teach me spells and stuff?”
“Would you like that?”
“Honestly? I’d rather go.” Only fair to give the wizard the option, since Kol still planned to blast anyone who got in his way once he had the power to bust out.
Arius’s face drooped like a beaten dog. “Unfortunately, until you are trained, it isn’t in the council’s best interest to let you leave. I can’t afford to fight them on this.”
Kol shrugged and put his blades away. No one could say he didn’t try the civilized approach. “Then fine. I’ll be a robe. Not like I’m doin’ anything else.”
Arius grinned, wide and eager like the elf. “Great. Is Kol your full name?”
“Only name I got.” Lots of people in Kol’s crew went through names as quickly as most people did clothing, but even The Lord had agreed that Kol’s name was common enough to keep. It wasn’t like he was old enough to have a reputation.
“Well, like I said, as my apprentice it will be more than appropriate for you to take my house, but you might want to adopt a different first name, too. You would stand out less.”
“Change it then. I don’t care.” But he did. A lot.
His name was the only thing he had been allowed to keep when he first joined with The Lord. His hair, his clothes, his speech, and everything else called too much attention. His mother was dead, but a stupid, childish part of him had worried if he didn’t know himself, she wouldn’t either. His final connection to her would be gone. So he had screamed bloody murder the first time his hair was dyed, not realizing what a favor The Lord was doing for him, hiding him and letting him join the band when he was really too young to be much use.
Everyone else in the band had to do something to prove themselves, but not Kol.
But he wasn’t a child anymore. If he had to be a robe, he would
rather not recognize himself.
“We’ll keep it simple,” Arius said. “Nikolas. I know at least one who goes by Kol. It might be helpful if I taught you better diction as well.”
“Oh, I am so sorry. I did not realize that my colloquial use of the language would offend your delicate ears. I will strive to improve myself. Maybe I should be writing all this down, or is that something else I would have no way of knowing?” He smiled, certain he would be hit this time.
Arius laughed. “Then let me be the first to welcome you to the Tower, Nikolas, Wind Mage of the house of Der’helder. Believe it or not, you may fit in here better than you realize.” He held out his hand.
Kol stood, taking the hand briefly by the tips, wary of prolonged contact. “Wind mage?”
“All apprentices start out as wind mages, though word is that you already mastered it.”
“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear, but yeah. I know a few tricks.”
The paper on the floor rippled, caught in a sudden whirlwind.
Arius nodded. “Though perhaps while you’re here, we might convince you to try something a bit more useful.” The books flew to the bookcase and the papers formed a tidy stack. “Right then. I was going to offer you some food and the chance to wash up, but you already took care of that yourself. So I guess we’ll go straight to giving my brother back his room, and getting you one of your own. We can see the council in the morning.” Arius walked into the sitting room.
“Perfect. Wouldn’t miss it. Just one sec.” Kol scanned the bedroom. The red dragonet flew to the bed from wherever it had been hiding.
Really don’t do subtle, do you?
Kol shrugged. “Considerin’ how much I’d like to torch ’em, I did great. So much for robes readin’ minds.”
Oh, they never could. Just the kings using yours truly.
“Figures. Well, you comin’?”
The dragonet nodded and crawled under his vest.
Kol strolled into the sitting room. Arius opened the door for Xavian, who circled back from pacing the hallway. Xavian scanned the room, as if he expected to come in on a typhoon among the armchairs. “Are you all right?”
The Queen's Opal: A Stone Bearers Novel (Book One) Page 24
