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The Mindmage's Wrath: A Book of Underrealm (The Academy Journals 2) Page 5


  No one was there. The benches were empty.

  “Who was she talking to?” Kalem asked.

  “They must have slipped away,” muttered Theren.

  “Our eyes were upon the door the whole time,” said Ebon. “They could not have left without us seeing it.”

  Theren snorted. “This is the Academy, Ebon. A weremage could have turned to a snake and slithered away, a mindmage could leap over the hedge. A firemage—”

  A child’s piercing scream rang out from the citadel, cutting her words short.

  Shock froze them. Then Ebon cried “Lilith,” and ran, while the others hastened to follow. Together they burst through the white cedar door and flew through the halls, towards the screams that grew louder and more terrified the closer they drew.

  “We make for the vaults,” said Theren as they ran. “Something has happened. Lilith must—”

  They rounded the final corner and froze, struck dumb at the sight before them. In front of a great iron door lay Instructor Credell. His eyes were no longer anxious and shifting, but vacant and staring up at the ceiling, as blood spilled from his slit throat to pool around his body.

  six

  FOR A MOMENT EBON COULD see nothing but the body. Credell’s face was Elf-white, marked only by the dark blood that had spattered his skin as it spurted forth. That blood ran thick and slow now, soaking into his hair and robes. Ebon thought of the day the Seat was attacked, and that Credell had been bloodstained then, too, fighting to defend his students from the Shades in an uncommon display of courage.

  His students. Astrea. Darkness take me, thought Ebon. For there she was: little Astrea, cowering against the wall. She was screaming, still screaming, and he realized it had been her voice they had heard from the garden. Her feet scraped the floor and her hands dragged at the stone wall as though she wished to burrow into it and away, but she could not remove her eyes from Credell sprawled on the floor.

  Another student stood beside her, holding her in a tight embrace—Isra, the girl he had run into in the dining hall that morning. She held Astrea tight, her face held to the girl’s, whispering comfort into her ear. Some other students stood about as well, drawn by the commotion just as Ebon and his friends had been—but all, like Ebon, were frozen in fear.

  He forced himself to move, crossing the hallway towards Astrea. He knelt before her, placing his face in between her and Credell’s corpse.

  “Astrea. Astrea!”

  She stopped her screaming long enough for her wild eyes to find his. It took a moment for her to recognize him, but when she did she flung herself forwards, wrapping her arms around his neck. He turned so her face was pointed away from Credell. But then, to his surprise, Isra reached out to drag Astrea backwards. She knelt to hold the girl as Ebon had done. Her eyes were wide, her face even more gaunt and pinched than usual. Astrea gripped her hard, tears soaking the older girl’s robes.

  “What happened?” said Theren.

  For a moment Isra seemed unable to speak, only looking up and blinking. At last she shook her head and stuttered, “We—we were walking. Together—the two of us. We found him here, like this.”

  “Who else was here?” said Theren. “Was it Lilith? Did you see her?”

  Ebon frowned. “Theren.”

  Isra only blinked, still in shock, and her hands tightened on Astrea’s shoulders.

  “What is going on here? Stand aside, all of—oh, sky above. Back. Back!”

  They turned to find Jia. Her light skin had grown paler still, and she stood before the students, waving them back from the body. Instructor Dasko arrived a moment later. He stared at the body a bit longer than Jia had, but then he joined her in ushering the students away.

  “Sky above, Ebon, get that child out of sight of him!”

  Jia’s sharp rebuke jarred him from his thoughts. Crimson blush crept into his cheeks that he had not thought of it. Quickly he went to Astrea, guiding her down the hallway. Isra kept a tight grip on the girl’s shoulder, but she did not stop him. They stopped around the corner, where Astrea collapsed to the stone floor. Isra sat beside her, one arm still wrapped protectively about the girl’s shoulders.

  Heavy, thudding footsteps sounded down the hall, and Perrin came into view a moment later. She caught Ebon’s eye and tossed her head. “What is all this commotion for?”

  Ebon pointed down the hall. “It ... Instructor Credell, he is ... they found him ...”

  Perrin’s face grew solemn, and she broke into a heavy jog. Though she vanished around the corner, Ebon could still hear the sharp hiss of her breath when she saw Credell. Then her booming commands rang forth, ordering students to draw away from the body so the instructors could do their work.

  “Are you all right?” Ebon winced at once, hearing how foolish the question sounded. “Would you like some water? Or anything else from the kitchens? I could fetch something ...” But Astrea only shook her head, eyes fixed sightlessly upon her feet.

  Theren drew close, and pulled Kalem in as well. “It was Lilith,” she murmured. “It must have been. She slipped away from us so she could do this. I knew we should have followed her.”

  “Murdering an instructor?” said Kalem. “That is madness. She could not. And besides, why would she?”

  “The vaults, of course,” said Theren, frowning. “Did you not see the door where Credell lay? That is the entrance.”

  Kalem balked, sharing an uncertain look with Ebon. But sharp, clipped footsteps down the hallway distracted them, and they all turned to see Jia approaching. She swept her gaze across them, lips pursed.

  “Did anyone see what happened?”

  “No, Instructor,” said Ebon. Astrea shook her head.

  “Who arrived first?”

  “Them—Astrea and Isra, I mean, or at least they came before we did,” said Theren. “But Instructor, in the garden we saw—”

  Jia silenced her with a raised finger, and then went to kneel before Astrea and Isra. She took the younger girl’s hands in her own, pressing them gently together. “Astrea,” she said softly. “It pains me greatly that you saw that. I am sorry to ask, but it may help us—did you see anything? Anything at all that might help?”

  Astrea shook her head, eyes still saucer wide. Isra gripped her tighter. “We were together, Instructor, walking through the hall. We found him just as you saw him.”

  “Is that true, Astrea?” The girl nodded. Jia sighed and stood. “Thank you both. Isra, please see Astrea to her dormitory, and wait with her in the common room until I can visit you. Do you understand?”

  Isra nodded and stood. But before she could leave, Theren sprang forwards to take Jia’s sleeve. “Instructor,” she said quickly. “We may have seen something that could help. Moments before we heard Astrea scream, we were following Lilith in the gardens. She spoke with someone out there, though we could not see who. Then she eluded us, vanishing from sight. It was only moments later that they found Credell’s body.”

  Jia frowned. “Why were you following her? What do you mean, she eluded you?”

  “She snuck away. She stepped out of sight so that we could not follow her.”

  Ebon had grown more uncomfortable with Theren’s every word, and now he took her by the arm. “Theren, that is not exactly what happened. Instructor, we were following Lilith, but she did not know it, and she did not try to evade us. She went into the Academy while we stayed behind.”

  Theren’s eyes upon him were full of fury and hurt. “But it was before Credell was killed,” she insisted.

  Jia glared, folding her arms across her chest. “Theren, I know something of the feud between you and Lilith, but accusing her of murder is far beyond reason, even for you. Unless you have something more substantial than this—”

  “I have not accused her!” cried Theren. “I have only told you what I saw. Is it not at least worth questioning her?”

  “Little more than any other soul at the Academy,” said Jia. “Many were surely alone when—”

  Abru
ptly she stopped talking and drew up straight, folding her hands together before her. Ebon felt a presence behind him and turned, along with Kalem and Theren. There stood Dean Xain, imposing in his robes of office, his dark eyes fixed on Ebon.

  “Son of Drayden,” he said, his voice dripping with scorn. “I am not surprised to find you present in such a commotion.”

  “Dean,” said Jia gravely. “Instructor Credell has been found dead. I will show you the body. Dasko and Perrin have cleared the students out of the hall.”

  That gave him pause, but only for the space of a breath. “Did any witness what happened?” said Xain, never taking his gaze from Ebon. “Were you there, son of Drayden?”

  Fear mixed with anger in Ebon’s breast—fear of Xain’s reckless malice, and anger at the injustice of it. “No, Dean. I was in the garden with Theren and Kalem.”

  Xain looked to Ebon’s friends. Theren nodded, and Kalem said, “It is true, Dean.”

  “Several other students reached the body before Ebon and his friends, Dean,” Jia added. “We had just begun to question the students when you arrived.”

  Xain looked to her, and then to Isra, who met his gaze with one of equal steel. He shrugged and pushed past Ebon, who was forced to step aside. Jia followed him around the corner. Ebon had almost decided to go with them when he heard many footsteps coming down the hall from the opposite direction. In a moment, Lilith appeared. Behind her were the students she had gathered in the library.

  “Lilith!” Theren’s voice rose to a furious shout. “What have you done?”

  The students stopped, and Lilith glared back. “What are you talking about, Theren? We heard a tumult and came to see what it was.”

  “You lie,” Theren snarled, stepping forwards. Ebon gripped her arm, and Kalem took the other. “We know what you did, Lilith.”

  “And what exactly is that?” Xain’s voice rolled through the hallway, freezing them like mindmagic. The Dean swept forwards, Jia at his side, and both came to a stop between the two groups.

  Jia spoke first. “Lilith, can you account for your whereabouts this evening?”

  Lilith blinked, brow furrowing with doubt. “I ... I was in the library with my friends.”

  “We saw you!” cried Theren. “We saw you in the garden, Lilith. And then you came back into the citadel, just before Credell was killed.”

  Beneath her dark skin, Lilith went grey as ash. “Killed? I ...” She swallowed, looking at the others beside her. “I only stepped out to get some air, and then I went straight back to the others. They were there, and know I am telling the truth.”

  “She is,” said Oren immediately. But on Lilith’s other side, Nella hesitated. It was only a moment before she nodded in assent, but Ebon noted it.

  “Very well,” said Jia. “Then we are done here. All of you, return to your rooms. Ebon, if you would, look in upon Astrea in her dormitory. I will be there as soon as I can, but I want to ensure she has friends about her. She is far too young to have witnessed something so wretched.”

  “I will, Instructor.” Ebon noted that Xain had fixed him with a dark look, and did not seem pleased to see them go. But again he turned without speaking, and Ebon hastened away before they could be recalled.

  The students with Lilith were silent. Theren gave them all dirty looks as they went, and once the hallway branched off, she dragged Ebon and Kalem in another direction. Out of earshot, she pressed them both into an alcove.

  “Lilith must have had something to do with this. I know it.”

  Kalem frowned and looked down at his feet. “I am not so certain.”

  Theren opened her mouth, but Ebon jumped in before she could speak. “He is right, Theren. We cannot know anything for certain. We only lost sight of her for a moment. How could she have killed him and then returned to the library so quickly?”

  “It was not such a long distance,” said Theren. “I think that, after she lost us, she made for the vaults. But she came upon Credell, killed him, and then ran for the library as quickly as she could before anyone could see what she had done.”

  “But why?” said Kalem. “For what purpose?”

  “For no purpose,” said Theren. “He must have surprised her. Do you remember this morning, when he asked for my key to the vaults? Credell never enters the vaults, but some business must have called him there. Lilith did not expect that, and so when he saw her, she panicked.”

  Ebon looked down the hall, towards where Lilith and the others had vanished. He gritted his teeth and shook his head. “I do not know, Theren. Lilith has been cruel to me since the day I arrived. But a murderer?”

  Theren scowled. “I do not think she is some vile killer who sits about plotting the slow, torturous deaths of others. But I know she is ruthless, and ambitious, and tied closely to the dark dealings of her family. The Yerrins may hold no candle to the family Drayden, yet it is known that they, too, will kill any who stand in their way.”

  “But Lilith is scarcely more than a girl,” said Kalem. “We all are.”

  “You mean you are,” said Theren. “She is on the cusp of her eighteenth year. More than old enough to act as an agent of her house—and indeed, I believe she may be. She might not have wished for Credell’s death, but she had a hand in it nonetheless, for Yerrin desires the treasures within the vaults.”

  “If what you say is true, I am more fearful than before,” said Kalem. “I want to prove the guilt of those who had a hand in the attack. But if Yerrin will kill to protect the secret, might we not die ourselves? And our new Dean is out for Ebon’s blood. If we try to investigate, we may land ourselves in even greater danger, or be expelled. And from outside the Academy, we can do nothing.”

  “If we remain, but do nothing, then what does it matter if we are expelled or not?” said Theren. “Underrealm itself is in danger. Do you think we can attend our studies for the next few years, and hope the war will pass us by?”

  Kalem fixed her with a hard look. “I think it is easier for you to say that than for us. You have completed your studies, and everyone knows it. If you left now, you would be a full-fledged wizard, whether or not you had the Academy’s blessing to practice. Ebon and I have not that luxury. You ask us to risk all our learning, many years more of education, trying to prove guilt that may or may not exist.”

  Theren had no answer for that, and looked uneasily away from them both. “Do you feel the same, Ebon?”

  But Ebon scarcely heard her. His thoughts were far away, upon the southern cliffs of the Seat, where Cyrus’ flesh had turned to stone under his hand. He felt as though he stood upon those cliffs again. He could step forwards, plunging himself into the abyss with no hope of return. If he joined Theren in her hunt for Lilith, he could be expelled, or die—or be forced to kill again. But if he stayed his hand? If he shut his eyes and feigned ignorance of the dark clouds swirling about the Academy? Then others might perish, and if Ebon did not kill them, still he would bear the guilt of it.

  “Ebon?” said Theren.

  “I do not know. I do not know. I have no wish to be killed or expelled in a hunt for the truth. But neither do I wish to sit and do nothing, when it may lead to the deaths of others like Credell. I know not what to do.”

  “That is hardly helpful,” said Theren, snorting. “Choosing to do nothing is still a choice.”

  “I do not wish to do nothing,” said Ebon. “Yet I fear to do anything. I ... how can I explain it, when I do not understand it myself?”

  “Ebon, stop being a coward and—”

  “Leave off, Theren.” He pushed her away and strode off down the hallway without looking back, for he knew he would find her glaring at him in anger. Cyrus’ face flashed before his eyes again, and then again, and the former Dean’s dry, crusted lips whispered the word murderer.

  He shivered, hating himself for his indecision. Yet how could he ease his mind? To whom could he speak?

  The answer came in a flash. Only one person would understand. Only one soul could hear him f
reely.

  Adara.

  seven

  It was far too late to consider leaving the Academy to see her, and the instructors were all on high alert after Credell’s murder. So Ebon did as he had promised, and went to Astrea’s dormitory to visit her. But he found Isra sitting in the common room instead. She looked up as he entered. Her eyes were vacant.

  “Is Astrea here?” Ebon said, keeping his voice hushed. The common room was empty save for the two of them.

  “She has gone to bed,” said Isra.

  Ebon nodded. “I should do the same, then. As should you, I suppose. Do you ... do you wish me to walk you back to the dormitories?”

  Isra scowled.

  He raised his hands at once. “I only mean ... it must have been terrible. To find ... to find him.”

  She seemed to consider that for a moment. “I suppose it was terrible,” she murmured. Lifting a hand, she showed Ebon her fingers. He could see them twitching. “See? My hands are shaking.”

  “Who could blame you? I can only imagine what it has done to Astrea.”

  Isra lowered her hand and looked at the dormitory door mournfully. “I wish she had not seen him,” she said, voice scarcely above a whisper. “She has always been so fragile.”

  “You have known her long, then?” said Ebon.

  Her eyes flashed. “I am not here to swap tales with you, goldbag.”

  Ebon ducked his head. “I am sorry,” he muttered. “Good eve.”

  He returned to his dormitory and went to bed at once, hoping his thoughts would be clearer in the morning. Instead he lay awake for hours, wrestling with thoughts of Cyrus and Credell. Both had made his first few months at the Academy terrible, though for very different reasons. And now both were dead. He fell asleep seeing their faces, their lifeless eyes staring into his own.

  A dark mood had settled over the Academy the next morning, like a funeral pall thrown over all who dwelt within. The dining hall was somber, and no one dared speak above a whisper. Ebon found Kalem and sat with him, neither saying a word. Theren arrived soon after, and though she sat with them both, she did not meet Ebon’s eyes.