The Mindmage's Wrath: A Book of Underrealm (The Academy Journals 2) Page 4

  “To expose her,” said Ebon, leaning forwards. “Think of it. If we can prove the Yerrins had something to do with the attack—and the theft within the vaults—they would face the High King’s justice. Dulmun would lose a powerful ally, and be forced to surrender before this war has truly begun. Does your loyalty towards the High King not demand this of you?”

  He thought he might have convinced Kalem, for the boy paused with a frown. But when he finally answered, he was angrier still. “No. This is a mad scheme. Where do you even get such thoughts, Ebon? And do not tell me they came from that letter.”

  “I have been thinking on this, as I said,” Ebon muttered.

  “I can see the lie in your eyes, Ebon. I have seen it there before. Can you not even trust me with the truth?”

  Now even Theren was looking at Ebon askance. So he sighed and looked away uneasily. “Very well. When I went to fetch a book just now, I was visited by Mako, my family’s bodyguard who I have spoken of before.”

  “Here?” said Kalem, his voice shrill. “In the library? In the Academy? How did he enter?”

  “I do not know. He seems to come and go as he wishes.”

  “He has been here before?” said Kalem, nearly shouting.

  Now Ebon was growing angry. “Yes, and somewhat often. What of it? Mayhap Cyrus permitted it, and he has heard no different from Xain. Or mayhap he knows a way in and out of these walls that no one else is privy to. What matters is not how he came to tell me, but what he said.”

  Theren seized Ebon’s knee, gripping it tight enough to make him wince. “Did he tell you Lilith had something to do with the attack upon the Seat?”

  Ebon looked away uncomfortably. “He ... not exactly. It is rarely so plain with him. But he did say that, if he were to investigate the attack, and the theft in the vaults, he would begin his search with the family Yerrin.”

  She released his knee, but only to slap his leg. Ebon grunted and rubbed at the spot. “I knew it!” Theren hissed, her voice shaking. “She must have used her time in the vaults to scour the records for the artifact her family wanted. In exchange for helping Dulmun in their assault, they would have access to any artifact they desired within the vaults. Her family must be putting her up to it.”

  “Understand that Mako did not say any of this,” said Ebon. “It is only a theory, for now, and we must carefully consider our steps before taking them.”

  “Only a theory, you say? But I am certain of it. It was a Yerrin plot, set in motion months ago.”

  “Yet what would they earn from this?” Ebon asked. “Do we believe they would risk the fall of an entire kingdom for a handful of magical trinkets?”

  “Some of those ‘trinkets’ hold power beyond reckoning,” said Theren. “And what does Yerrin care if the kingdom of Dulmun should stand or fall? They are not royalty. Their business will go on, and their wealth will accumulate, as it has for countless generations.”

  “Very well,” said Ebon. “If we consider ourselves correct, and that Lilith was the thief, what now? How can we prove it, and expose the Yerrins?”

  “We could follow her.”

  Ebon and Theren went still, staring at Kalem in amazement. He met their wondering looks with tight-pressed lips and eyes smoldering in anger.

  “I am surprised to hear that from you, Kalem,” Ebon said carefully.

  “Are you?” said Kalem. “If it is true—and if your family’s spy says it might be, mayhap we should listen—then Lilith must pay. All the Yerrins must. How many empty chairs are in the Academy? How many lecterns require new instructors? And if the invasion was a tragedy, the coming war will be far, far worse. If blame for that may be laid at Yerrin’s feet, then let it be laid, and let them pay the price.”

  Theren snorted, but Ebon could see admiration in her eyes. “You sound like one of the kings you scorned earlier, eager for war.”

  Kalem balked. “I have no wish to fight,” he said, more quietly now. “I only want proof. Then we can take that to the Academy’s faculty, or perhaps to the constables. Let them deal with the criminals. If we can do that ... well, then mayhap my parents will no longer wish to bring me home.”

  They all fell silent. Then Ebon rested a comforting hand on Kalem’s shoulder. “No doubt you are right. If we are all of us resolved, we should start immediately. We shall follow Lilith’s steps outside of class, as close as her shadow. If Yerrin should plot against the Academy again, we three will be first to know.”

  They spent the rest of their afternoon in studious silence. Theren even stopped trying to speak to Ebon and Kalem while they read. But when the day’s final bell tolled, they stacked their books upon the table and made quickly for the halls. Ebon tried to spot Lilith on their way out, but either she left as soon as the bell rang, or she was lost somewhere in the crowd.

  Only moments passed, however, before Theren summoned them with a sharp whistle. There was Lilith, heading towards the dormitories. Her lackeys, Oren and Nella, had joined her from their classes, and the three of them walked in step. Ebon and Kalem moved to close the gap between them, but Theren gripped their arms.

  “Not too close,” she said, bringing her mouth to their ears to be heard above the crowd. “We do not want them to think we are following.”

  Once Lilith reached the stairs, she led the others up. The older students’ dormitories were nearest the bottom, so they left the staircase almost at once to enter the common room. While Lilith went into her dormitory, Oren and Nella remained behind to keep watch.

  “What do you suppose she is doing in there?” whispered Theren.

  “Nothing good, I feel,” said Ebon. “If she does not emerge in a moment or two, one of us should sneak—”

  But then Lilith reappeared in the doorway, and the words died on his tongue. She had changed from her plain black student’s cloak to a finer one trimmed in dark green brocade. She swept past Nella and Oren, who hastened to fall into step behind her. Ebon and his friends followed her all the way back to the library, where she swept in through the wide doors.

  “I have never thought that Lilith was the studious type,” said Ebon. “And if she is studying, why should she go to change her cloak?”

  “Do you wish to wait here and wonder? Only one thing will reveal the truth.” And so saying, Theren pushed through the library doors. Ebon and Kalem traded a final worried look before running behind her.

  Inside it was silent. Only a handful of students were in view, puttering about the shelves with candles or lanterns now that the sun was fading from the skylight above.

  “There.” Kalem pointed, and Ebon’s gaze followed. He saw a number of students sitting near the library’s rear, and Lilith was among them.

  “Let us get closer,” said Theren.

  They stole off to the right, so they could wend their way through the shelves towards the gathering without being seen. As they drew near, they slowed their pace until they were moving little faster than a crawl. At last they stopped behind a thick shelf and leaned around the corner to watch.

  About a dozen students had gathered to meet with Lilith. They had arranged armchairs into a circle with some tables set about for refreshments—cheese and bread, and many flagons of wine. They spoke lightly and laughed often, drinking freely; Ebon noted that some already had ruddy cheeks and noses. He could catch snatches of conversation, of lessons learned and spells mastered, of which instructors were kind and which cruel. But Lilith was silent and cold, positioned as if at the head of an invisible table, and her eyes were grave as they stared into nothing.

  “What is she brooding on?” wondered Ebon.

  “More to the point, what is this gathering all about?” said Kalem. “Why would they meet in the library if not to study?”

  “Not everyone enjoys books as much as you and Ebon, Kalem,” said Theren.

  Ebon looked about the room with a frown. “No, he is right. If they do not wish to study, they could meet in the city. There are inns and taverns aplenty with better refreshments
than they have here. So why the library?”

  Theren’s brow furrowed. But after a moment, Kalem snapped his fingers. “What else might they find in a tavern?”

  Ebon blinked. “I know not what you mean. Noise? Distraction?”

  “Near enough to the point. Other people. Whatever they are discussing, they do not wish to be overheard.”

  “But that is silly,” said Theren. “There are other students here, in the library. Sky above, we are here, and can hear them.”

  “We came looking for them, and can only hear their words because we are eavesdropping. Who else would be here now except students who enjoy learning more than an evening spent with friends. Bookish children, as you might call us, Theren. And look: none of those will draw within a stone’s throw of this gathering of merchant children and nobles who bully them.”

  Ebon looked about and saw that Kalem was right. Some students there were indeed, pulling tomes from the shelves to study by candlelight. But they all steered well clear of Lilith’s party. If he had happened to be here for other, more innocent purposes, he would have done the same.

  As if in answer to Kalem’s words, Lilith stood abruptly from her chair. The other students went silent after a moment, looking up at her expectantly.

  “We must invite more to this gathering,” she said. “The goldbag society must grow. We will reach out to every merchant’s child. Every royal son and daughter.”

  “Hear hear,” said one of the students, raising her goblet with a prim smile. “Though I am nearly scandalized to hear you use that uncouth term. Goldbag. Honestly. Such a weak word, if truly they mean it as an insult.”

  “Surely you do not mean everyone, Lilith,” said Oren with a nasty grin. “Not that Drayden whelp, at least.” He gave a nasty laugh and looked around. The other students tittered in approval. But Lilith fixed him with a steely gaze.

  “Every merchant’s child. Every royal son and daughter.”

  Oren’s face fell. “Even Ebon?”

  “Every merchant’s child. The goldbag society must grow. We must invite more students to this gathering.”

  “All right, Lilith, we have heard you,” said Nella. She shook her head with a weak smile. “Sit, and drink. You are drawn tight as a Calentin bow.”

  Lilith shuddered, shaking her head as she placed a hand to her brow. “Yes. Yes, very well. Only do not forget.”

  She took her seat again, and gratefully accepted the wine that Nella pressed to her before leaning back into her cushions.

  Ebon turned to the others. Kalem’s face was scrunched up as he peered at the gathering. But Theren had gone stony, her hands balled into white-knuckled fists.

  “Every child of merchants and royalty, is it?” said Theren. “Such petty, small-minded revenge. How very like her.”

  “What do you mean?” said Ebon.

  Theren tossed her head. “Do you not see, Ebon? She is forming this little gathering of children with wealth and power. Sky above, she is even willing to mend her bridges with you. And why?”

  “I know not,” said Ebon, frowning. “I myself have no wish for such a mending.”

  “Of course not. Yet she aims to beguile you. Because one day you will rule over your family and its deep reserves of coin, as Lilith will rule hers. What an alliance that could be. And if she sat at the head of your group of Academy friends ... well, think how amenable you might be to any favor she might ask.”

  “I would never do her any favors, nor would I join this little cabal,” Ebon insisted.

  “As I have said already, I know you would not,” said Theren. “I am angry at Lilith, not you. Think. She knows we three dislike her. We have confronted her in the past. And what does she think of to solve this problem? Division. Seducing the two of you while she leaves me out in the cold.”

  “You may overestimate our importance,” mumbled Kalem, eyes at his feet. “I would be surprised to know that Lilith thinks much of us at all, let alone enough to concoct such a scheme as that.”

  “Neither of you has known her as long as I,” said Theren darkly.

  “Look!” said Ebon, pointing. “Where is she going?”

  Lilith had stood and begun to move away, but when Oren and Nella made to rise with her, she waved them down. “I must use the privy,” she said, and swept off, drawing her black cloak tight. Her steps were brisk and clipped, and she stopped only once, to look back over her shoulder when she reached the library doors.

  Ebon shared a look with his friends. “The privy, she says?”

  “I doubt it,” said Theren. “Let us go.”

  “But do you not think—oh, never mind,” grumbled Kalem, for they had started off without him.

  By the time they reached the hallway, Lilith had almost vanished, but they spied her just before she turned a corner. They hastened to follow down another two halls—but when Lilith reached the turn to the privies, she passed it by. Again Ebon, Kalem, and Theren shared a silent look before running behind her. She reached one of the white cedar doors that led out, and then again glanced down the hallway in both directions. Ebon and his friends were only saved because Lilith looked the other way first, for they dove into an alcove before she could turn back to see them. Once they heard the door swing shut, they ran after her again.

  The night air outside was wonderfully cold upon their cheeks, for inside the citadel Ebon had begun to sweat beneath his cloak. Snow had yet to fall, and so they could keep their steps silent upon the soft grass as they followed Lilith deep into the Academy’s training grounds. She took an odd path, weaving through bushes and hedges first one way, and then another.

  “Has she seen us following her?” said Kalem.

  “I do not think so, for still she moves slowly,” said Theren. “She could be lost, but more likely she is taking precautions.”

  But even as she spoke, Lilith turned the corner of a great hedge and broke into a run, her steps fading towards silence.

  “Go!” said Ebon. They sprinted for the end of the hedge and came into the open. Lilith was nowhere to be seen.

  “Split up!” hissed Theren. She ran off.

  “Theren!” said Ebon. He could follow her, but it would be a waste. He ran straight, and Kalem scampered to stay at his heels.

  “How do you know she went this way?” said Kalem.

  “I do not,” growled Ebon. “I am hoping.”

  Hedges formed into a sort of maze in this part of the garden, but they could see a fair distance in every direction. Ebon thought he could hear running footsteps around every corner. Whenever he wondered if they were only in his mind, they came again, and Kalem would seize the sleeve of his robe. Then they would run pell-mell to catch up, only to hear the steps fade and vanish again.

  “Darkness take her,” said Ebon. “She must know we are here.”

  “Hold!” said Kalem, gripping his arm.

  They went deathly still. Footsteps on the other side of the hedge continued, then petered to nothing.

  Kalem met Ebon’s eyes in the moonslight. The boy’s were wide and frightened, but then, Ebon guessed that he must look much the same.

  They crept along. Ebon’s steps slow and soft as a field mouse. He heard one sharp step on the other side of the hedge. It sounded like a stumble. He met Kalem’s eyes and received a nod. Lilith was sneaking along beside them.

  Then they heard murmuring voices from the other direction.

  Ebon whirled. Kalem barely stifled a cry. And from the other side of the hedge came the sound of running. Lilith was trying to flee, taking advantage of the distraction.

  “Catch her!” Ebon whispered.

  “I think I can—” Kalem’s eyes began to glow. He stepped towards the hedge and held forth his hands. Where he touched the shrub, it hissed and vanished into steam. Leaping forwards, he cleared a tunnel through the plants—only for Ebon to hear him give a muffled cry from the other side.

  “Kalem!” Ebon barely kept his voice muted, and bounded forwards through the bush. On the other side we
re two dark figures. He flung himself at the taller one, tackling it to the ground.

  “Get off me, you idiot goldshitter!” hissed a familiar voice.

  “Theren?” said Ebon, for indeed it was her. He pushed up and away, holding out his hands. “I ... I am sorry, I did not know—”

  “Leave it,” she growled. “And help me up.”

  He hastened to take Theren’s hand and pull her to standing. “We heard you and thought it was Lilith.”

  “I heard you and thought you were Lilith. When I heard those voices, I thought she was trying to escape.”

  The voices. Ebon waved at his friends for silence. Together they crept towards the gap in the hedges that Kalem had cleared. The voices were still there. Two of them, both hushed.

  “That must be Lilith,” whispered Kalem.

  “Aye, and one other,” said Theren.

  “It is a good thing they did not hear us,” said Ebon. “Now, if we can see who—”

  But there came rustling steps on the grass, and the trio threw themselves behind a rosebush. Lilith emerged from the garden into the moonslight. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead, and her steps were steady. Had she glanced to her left she might have seen Ebon, but she did not waver on her way back to the citadel.

  “After her,” said Theren.

  “In a moment,” said Ebon. “First I would like to know who she spoke to.”

  “Her accomplice means nothing. We are following Lilith.”

  “It will be but a moment.” Ebon did not wait for an answer, but slipped around the rosebush and into the hedges. Here the plants formed a sort of fence around a small yard with two stone benches. Ebon had come here on occasion, when he wished to be alone with his thoughts. He reached a narrow gap in the hedge, pressing himself up against it to peer inside.

  He could see no one.

  Ebon turned to find Theren and Kalem eyeing him expectantly. He frowned, shaking his head. Theren pushed past him to see for herself.

  “Theren, wait!” Ebon grabbed for her sleeve, but she cast him off. Ebon flinched as she stepped into the open. But nothing happened. Slowly, he straightened and joined her.