Read A College of Magics Online
Authors: Caroline Stevermer
A College of Magics (14 page)
“We're to wait here,” Jane said quietly.
Faris looked around at the vast lacework of the windows, the polychrome ceiling, and the complicated tile floor. “That makes sense, I suppose. This is where I started.”
“The Dean questioned me as though I'd witnessed a murder. This is no mere inquiry into a row between students. It's a full scale court-martial. What have you done?”
Faris sighed. “You were there. You saw it. I lost my temper. Do you think we might go look for a chair somewhere?”
“We're to stay here.”
“Why?”
“Because you'll get me into trouble.” Jane tried to laugh. The attempt failed, and she looked troubled.
“Oh, come now. I've been up all night. I've missed so many meals I may never catch up. I've been questioned by the Dean and I'm going to be questioned again. At least let me sit down. I'm going to need all my strength for this.”
“I'm serious, Faris. We're to stay right here. I'm sorry there's nowhere to sit but it can't be helped.”
“Graduation was the ruin of you, Jane Brailsford.” Faris sat down on the floor.
“Get up. You can't be court-martialed sitting on the floor.”
“I'll get up when the Dean comes, I promise.” Faris stretched out on the floor, and yawned enormously. “Wake me up when it's time.”
The outer door opened and Menary entered, Dame Cassilda at her side. In her severely cut gray frock, with the neat turban of white linen bandaging her head, Menary resembled a novice rather than a penitent. Her eyes were thoughtful, her expression serene. She seemed troubled neither by the events that had passed nor by the interview to come. She regarded Faris with amusement.
“Abase yourself before the Dean, by all means, but it's usually done lying on one's stomach, not on one's back.”
“I yield to your greater experience in such matters.” Faris rose. Menary smiled at her. It was a small, yet extremely nasty smile.
Jane stepped between the two. “Greenlaw's quarrel with you takes precedence over the quarrel between you. Wait your turn.”
“A pleasure deferred,” said Menary.
Faris sneered.
“Get your servant to explain the concept to you,” Menary added.
“That's enough,” said Jane grimly, as Faris bristled.
Menary laughed. “Be still, Dame Brailsford.” She made the title a mockery. “You know nothing of this. This is a matter between the sailor's brat and me.”
Belatedly, Dame Cassilda put a restraining hand on Menary's sleeve. Menary shook it off disdainfully.
From an inner door no one had noticed as it opened, the Dean said, “This meeting will now come to order.”
As those in the room turned, the Dean swept forward among them. At the spot she deemed satisfactory, she halted. “Here, I think, Tyrian.”
From the inner room, Tyrian emerged, bearing a lyre-backed chair which he set for the Dean. He bowed her into it with grave courtesy. At her gesture of dismissal he stepped backward to join the ring the others made before her. From her place in the ring, Faris regarded Tyrian closely. Whatever had passed in his interview with the Dean, his customary expression of calm indifference was back. Inwardly Faris rejoiced at the sight.
Through the outer door Dame Villette entered, Drayton Reed in tow. They joined the circle between Faris and Jane.
“I thought I left you waiting in the tumbrel,” Faris whispered to Reed.
“You said you wouldn't be long,” Reed replied.
Faris kept her eyes on the Dean and replied out of the corner of her mouth. “I tried to hurry. See where it's brought me. Court-martialed.”
“Wouldn't a simple notice that you won't attend any more classes have done the trick? Who's the dragon lady?”
“That's the Dean of Greenlaw College. She's in charge here.”
“It figures. Trust Tyrian to ingratiate himself with the ruling class.”
“Dame Villette, Dame Cassilda, Dame Brailsford, we are here today to deal with the transgressions of these two students.” The Dean nodded at Faris and Menary as she named them in full. “The inquiry I have conducted has satisfied me that they were party to acts of magic as undergraduates. What they have done before, they may do again. If they attempt any action, physical or metaphysical, you are to do your duty and restrain them by any means in your power. Do you understand?”
Dame Villette looked mildly pleased, Dame Cassilda mildly wary, and Dame Brailsford mildly distressed. All nodded.
“Very good.” The Dean turned from Menary to Faris. “Do either of you have a defense to offer for your extraordinary behavior? Do you?” There was perfect silence in the room. The Dean looked from Faris to Menary, her eyes blazing. “Speak up if you do.”
Faris looked at Menary. Menary was staring with polite resignation at a point in the air over the Dean's head. She looked as if she were listening to distant music she did not much care for.
Faris met the Dean's steely gaze. “Very well. I do.”
“Speak.”
“I didn't try to do any magic. I tried to kill Menary, that's all. She harmed someone in my service. Send me away if you must, but know that I did what I did for a good reason.”
“Do I understand you correctly? You admit you attempted to kill your classmate.”
Faris nodded.
“You consider
that
a defense?”
that
a defense?”
Faris nodded again.
The Dean turned to Menary. “And you? Do you offer any explanation of your actions?”
Menary brought her gaze down to meet the Dean's. “No.”
The Dean held Menary's gaze for a long moment, then Menary looked at the floor. The Dean said, “You are expelled from this college. You will both be gone by sundown today. Never return.”
Menary bowed her head and withdrew from the circle with a gliding graceful step.
Faint impatience troubled the Dean's gaze. “Where are you going?”
Menary halted, gray eyes wide. “I was about to leave the college, never to return. I obey orders.”
“Not invariably,” said the Dean dryly. “Don't be so hasty. I have not quite finished speaking to you.”
Menary returned to her place in the circle.
“For reasons of your own, concerned perhaps with vanity and spite,” the Dean told Menary, “you have misbehaved almost from the moment of your arrival at Greenlaw. You brought with you not merely an insolent notion that because you had the inclination to question rules, the rules did not apply to you, a notion which a few of your classmates shareâ” Here she glanced pointedly at Faris for an instant. “âbut a vicious habit of mind as well. You have done those things which you ought not to have done. It matters not at all how you did them. I grant that you did not use
the magic of Greenlaw. Still, no matter how you contrived it, you have done those things.”
the magic of Greenlaw. Still, no matter how you contrived it, you have done those things.”
Impassive, Menary returned the Dean's gaze.
“At first you showed great promise. Despite complaints, I allowed you to go your own way. I erred. I was loath to break your spirit merely in the name of manners.”
“Fear not,” said Menary softly. “I have resisted sterner efforts at discipline than yours.”
The Dean looked sad. “I know it. It seems you are determined that your promise will go unfulfilled. But I must not allow you to leave just yet. You are half trained and wholly unreliable. Before you go, you must tell me what you saw on your vigil.”
Menary's eyes widened, then narrowed. She said nothing.
“You understand. Tell me, or I will ask you again and you will have no choice about answering.”
“I sawâ” Menary hesitated. Her eyes slid from the Dean to Dame Villette and back to the Dean.
The Dean held up her hand. “Don't trouble to lie.” She pointed at Menary and Menary seemed unable to take her eyes from the Dean's index finger. “For the third time, and the last time, and the time you must answer.
Tell me
.”
Tell me
.”
Menary paled until her eyes seemed nearly black in her white face. “Tyrian,” she said softly, unwillingly.
Faris glanced at Tyrian. Unmoved, he was watching the Dean closely.
The Dean lowered her hand. “The damage your whim did him has been undone. He is free of the bond you laid
upon him. Now, with your word, you are free of him. You are free of the power your vigil lent you. Go now. Never return.”
upon him. Now, with your word, you are free of him. You are free of the power your vigil lent you. Go now. Never return.”
Menary's color rushed back, a tide of scarlet that overwhelmed her pallor. She blushed but still her gaze did not fall. After a moment the high color subsided until it burned only in her cheeks. “I have nowhere to go. I must send for a ship from home.”
“There are rooms to be rented in St. Malo. I do not want you within the gates of Greenlaw, not even down in the village. Dame Cassilda, attend her while she packs. See that you escort her to St. Malo.”
Chalk pale, her bearing stiff but still proud, Menary withdrew, Dame Cassilda with her. When the door was closed behind them, the Dean spoke again. “Now for you, Faris Nallaneen. You are lucky to have such observant testimony in your defense. It is plain to me that you brought no magic to the encounter. Indeed, your primitive defense states the matter fully. You lost your temper and tried to kill Menary. Let me remind you that wrath is a deadly sin.”
For the first time since she had left Dame Brachet's deportment class, Faris dropped her gaze and examined the toe of her shoe with minute interest.
The Dean continued. “You cannot remain at Greenlaw. Your uncle and I agree on that, if on nothing else. Yet I have no mind to set a half-trained witch of Greenlaw at liberty in an unsuspecting world. Tell me what you saw on your vigil.”
Faris frowned. “I told you all that.”
The Dean lifted her hand. “Tell me again.”
“Very well. It was dark. It was cloudy. Just before dawn it cleared and I saw the stars.”
“Come here.” At the crispness in the Dean's tone, Faris came forward without demur. When she was an arm's length from the lyre-backed chair, the Dean halted her. “Kneel. Look at me.”
Faris knelt and found she could look nowhere else. The Dean's dark eyes held her motionless and silent. She was only remotely aware of the floor beneath her knees, of the ache in her neck, of the stillness in the great hall. All she could see were the Dean's eyes. It seemed to her that their darkness took fire from the angled sunlight until they glowed golden.
“Now tell me.”
“I saw the stars.” Faris's voice sounded distant and sleepy.
“Name them.”
From some distant lesson in natural history, the names came back. “Arcturus,” Faris said. “Vega, Spica, the Northern Crownâ”
“That will do.” The Dean folded her hands.
Faris rose stiffly.
“You may go. You may not return. You have come too far to tread the student's path any longer.” She sounded tired. Her eyes were merely brown.
Faris steadied herself. “I'm not ready to go yet. I have some questions and I want some answers.”
“Inquire in the rue du Sommerard. It is Hilarion's business you wish to know. He would not thank me if I tried to enlighten you. Go to Paris.”
For a moment, fatigue and impatience stirred the embers of Faris's temper. “Very well. Since I have been expelled, contrary to your word, and since I have been sent for by my uncle, and since it is on my way home to Galazon, I
will
go to Paris.”
will
go to Paris.”
“You are very obliging.” The Dean closed her eyes wearily.
“But I will not leave until you have refunded the balance of my school fees for the termânot to mention the balance of the funds held in escrow since my admission.”
The Dean opened her eyes and fixed Faris with a glance of deep displeasure. Faris returned it. “Dame Villette, kindly inform the bursar she is to draw up a letter of credit for this young extortionist. Dame Brailsford, go and pack your things. I am not sending Faris Nallaneen away from here with a full purse unless I can be quite certain that she is properly supervised in Paris. She seems to listen to you. You will escort her. See she pays the call I require in the rue du Sommerard. It is of the first importance. Go.”
Jane's eyes widened. “Go now, ma'am?”
“Now. Have Faris's things packed, too. Be certain she behaves herself. Paris is full of distractions, particularly for the well-to-do.”
“Yes, ma'am.” Jane departed.
The Dean rose, shook out her robes carefully, and regarded Faris, Reed, and Tyrian. “Stay here until Dame Brailsford fetches you. There should be no difficulty in reaching Pontorson in time for the Paris train. Be very certain
you are on it.” The door in the paneling was open. She walked through it and it was gone.
you are on it.” The door in the paneling was open. She walked through it and it was gone.
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