Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2) (28 page)

BOOK: Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2)
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“I knew she was a sorceress of
some renown, but the details? No.” Gisella patted Moonsilver’s neck as the mare
tossed her head and snorted. “Our mother confirmed what Aurora told me. Alysha
and I consulted with seers, sages, and as many priests as we could find, and we
formulated a plan: I would come north and seek out rumors and signs of our
grandmother’s intentions while she stayed safe in the south. She was the one
with arcane talents. We felt it would be best if she stayed far away from
anywhere the Lich Queen was likely to appear.”

“She always stayed north of the
Celtan Forest, if I recall my histories.” It had been years since Pancras read
those histories, and the exploits of a dead conqueror didn’t interest him much
in those days.

“Yes, her armies made it into
Cardoba, almost to the Wizard’s Rift, but only as far south as the lake.
Anyway, Aurora seemed like she would help us, and since I love the company of
men, I figured there were certainly worse gods to whom to devote myself.”
Gisella laughed. “Aurora doesn’t demand sacrifices of blood. Tithes are low,
and worship…” She chuckled again. “Well, you can imagine what holy days
require.”

Pancras felt his face grow warm.
Familiar with the sort of ceremonies in which the priests of Aurora engaged
during holy days, he couldn’t imagine a fierce warrior like the Golden Slayer
indulging in that sort of debauchery.

“We make quite a pair, you and I.
A minotaur-would-be-Bonelord of Aita and an Aurora-worshipping slayer of the
Arcane University, on a gods-given quest to destroy the Lich Queen. Or at
least, stop her from returning to this world.” He chuckled. “It sounds
ludicrous, does it not? I only left Drak-Anor to pay the delinquent dues of my
guild membership!”

“We should hire a minstrel to
follow us and chronicle our quest.” Gisella grinned. “If we’ve gone mad, their
songs will bring laughter to people for generations. If not, then we’ll be
legends!”

 

* * *

 

Delilah spent her days in lessons
with various masters. As a result, her repertoire expanded. She studied with
Katka most of the time, though after destroying her third cauldron, Katka was
expelled from Alchemy. Fortunately for Delilah, Conner was a suitable
replacement and helped the drak retrieve objects from upper shelves in Master Agata’s
laboratory.

In the evenings, Delilah spent
half of her time carousing with Katka and Conner and the other half visiting
with Kale and Kali when she found time to leave the campus. She carried the
grimoire of Gil-Li with her wherever she went as a reminder to study it. It
seemed like ages since Delilah had so few responsibilities, though, and the
drak sorceress made the most of it. She enjoyed the attention she received
whenever she visited the undercity, as well, and bestowed blessings. Regardless
of whether or not they produced an effect, they seemed to cheer the draks she
encountered there.

Each time she visited Kale and
Kali, their progress in cleaning up and fixing the old storefront they had
purchased surprised her. Because her time there was limited, she was unable to
examine in depth the runed circle and the library.

“I hope I’ll have more time to
visit my brother after my Novice Trials.” Delilah pulled a chair up to the
table where Katka and Conner were eating. The drak heaped food on her plate and
dug in with relish.

Conner was quick to disabuse that
notion. “After the trial, you’ll be apprenticed to one of the masters. Everyone
seems to think you’re the archmage’s pet, so it’ll probably be him. I’d be
shocked if he lets you go off and do research for days at a time.”

Delilah shrugged and poked at a
sausage on her plate. “Maybe a giant will eat him, and I won’t have to worry
about it.”

Katka swallowed a mouthful of
roasted potatoes. “What happened with him and the archduke? Didn’t he have a
job for you or something?”

“I think he forgot about it. I
hope he forgot about it.” Delilah stabbed the sausage, squirting hot grease
across the table.

“Don’t count on it.” Conner
refilled their mugs with ale.

“He’s got something funny going
on with the archduke.” Delilah took a long drink of her ale. She hated
politics. “Have you heard anything?”

“No.” Conner looked at Katka and
then at Delilah. “Why would we?”

Delilah forgot people in large,
human cities like Muncifer didn’t have a direct access to the leaders like she
did in Drak-Anor. She tried a different tack. “Doesn’t matter. What’s the deal
with the giants in the mountains? I heard the city has some sort of agreement
with them?”

Katka laughed. “You think we hear
anything about that? My parents have a livery outside of town. We don’t hear
any news that doesn’t come from a traveler buying a horse.”

The drak sorceress stared at
Conner.

“Don’t look at me. My parents
might have heard something before they died, but no one tells me anything.”

Delilah groaned in frustration.
“You guys are useless!” It was obvious her friends were not of the same social
status as she enjoyed back home.
Are the draks and minotaurs in Drak-Anor
just as ignorant about Sarvesh and the council as these two humans are about
their leaders?

Conner choked and coughed as he
wolfed down a sausage, bread, and ale one after the other. Katka pounded him on
the back, and he waved his hand, signaling for her to stop.

“What’s the hurry?” Delilah wiped
up some ale he spewed onto the table.

“I just remembered I’m supposed
to meet Marta tonight.” He waggled his eyebrows. “She wants to practice with
me.” He grabbed another hunk of bread and then dashed away from the table.

Katka rolled her eyes. “Marta,
Marta, Marta… she’s all he talks about ever since he met in her Master Renata’s
conjuration class.”

Delilah heard echoes of her
feelings toward Kali. “That reminds me, there’s a test in Master Renata’s class
tomorrow. Are you ready?”

“No. I’m never ready.” Katka grabbed
another piece of bread.

“You’ll do all right. You just
need to believe in your own abilities.” The girl memorized the words, but she
always doubted herself.

“Easy for you to say.” Katka
leaned close to Delilah and lowered her voice. “People are saying you’re a
prodigy.”

“I am not. I just have decades
more experience than all the other students.” Over the last several weeks,
Delilah took Master Galina’s advice to heart and stopped showing off so much.
The students were all just beginners, and she was an experienced sorceress. It
really wasn’t fair to them for her to be placed in the same classes with them.
It wasn’t Delilah’s choice, nor was it the masters’ choice. It was a decree by
the archmage, and no one felt it was worth fighting him on this matter.

“Most of them don’t understand
that, though.”

“Then they’re idiots.” Delilah
felt a twinge of guilt as soon as the words left her mouth and glanced around
the room to see if anyone had overheard her. It seemed as though no one else in
the Arcane University’s tavern paid her and Katka any mind.

Delilah shook her head. “Let’s
go, Katka. I’ll help you practice for tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Kale and Kali
planned to take Taavi and Blackclaw on a ride around Muncifer. They decided to
also bring Fang along for some exercise even though Delilah couldn’t join them.
A trip through the fields and meadows surrounding the city would take most of
the morning. The sun shone in a sky dotted with scattered, puffy clouds. As he
locked the front door on their way out, Kale noticed a hooded drak standing in
the shadows of an alley across the way.

He nudged Kali. “Do you know
him?”

“No.” Kali drew one of her
daggers. She strode over to the alley. “Don’t you have someplace more important
to be?”

The drak shook his head as a grin
spread across his face. “I’m right where I want to be. You and the winged
striper are mates, yeah?”

Already, Kale didn’t like where
this conversation was headed. He drew one of his daggers and stood beside Kali.
“I’m Kale, and Kali is my mate. What do you want?”

“Boss Steelhand sent me. He
thought you might not know about the rules we have around here.” The drak
pulled back his cloak and fingered the hilt of a sword. His dark blue scales
seemed black in the shadows of the alley.

Kale spread his wings and widened
his stance. “What rules? We bought that old shop fair and square.”

“Sure you did. From the humans,
right? The thing is…” The drak licked his lips. “Down here, we all answer to
Boss Steelhand. You want to have a shop, you have to give the boss his due.”

Kali waved her dagger under the
drak’s chin. “Oh no. We’re not paying protection to anyone. We’re not even
selling anything!”

“Is that so?” He prodded the tip
of Kali’s dagger with his finger until he drew blood. He licked the bead of red
off his finger. “Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe the boss wants his due from
you, no matter what. Your sister comes down here, raising a big stink about how
she’s going to save all these worthless cretins from their oppression. The boss
doesn’t like that. You might say he gets nervous when others start moving in on
his territory.”

“My sister is all talk. She
doesn’t want his territory. She just wants the crowds out of her way.” Kale did
not believe this was all about Delilah’s little displays.

“Maybe so, maybe no.” The drak
shrugged. “The boss gets his due, or the boss gets angry. When the boss gets
angry, things get ugly. Understand?”

Kale understood the cloaked
drak’s message. He spat a glob of flame at the drak’s feet. Steam hissed where
the fire licked a muddy puddle. “We’re not giving you anything. The boss wants
something, the boss comes to see us himself.”

The drak chuckled and pressed his
foot into the flame, extinguishing it. “Suit yourself. I’ll give him the
message.”

He turned and disappeared into
the shadows of the alley. Kali sheathed her dagger. “That must be one of the
thieves the magistrate warned us about.”

“I’m not paying them a damned
thing.” Kale turned his back to the alley, taking his mate’s hand. “We’re not
selling anything. They don’t have any reason to come after us.”

Kali hooked her arm into her
mate’s. “They think they do. That’s all the reason they need. We should
probably be sure we’re ready to deal with them when they come knocking.”

For years, Kale spent his days
and nights building traps and weapons to hold back armies. Securing his own
home would be child’s play compared to that. When they came, he would be ready.

 

* * *

 

Master Renata’s classroom was
packed full. Delilah was surprised to see so many students in attendance. Most
of them, she recognized from other classes and from wandering the university.
Only a fraction was actually in the class she attended with Katka. The room was
an indoor amphitheater, with rows of seats descending toward a center stage.
Upon the stage stood a variety of cages with arcane markings on their floors;
cages for summoned creatures.

“Quiet down!” Master Renata
entered, her blue robes swishing about her legs like a frothy sea, her silver
hair tied into a tight bun at the back of her head. As she studied the room,
her face became drawn and angry.

The room was hot and stuffy with
as many bodies piled into the room in close proximity. Delilah considered
giving up her chance at the test would be worth the comfort of the relatively
cool breeze outside.

Master Renata scanned the
assembled students. “Where is Novice Delilah? Come down here.”

A murmur circulated the room. For
a moment, Delilah remained still. The last thing she expected was to be called
first. The instructors never called on her first. Katka pushed on her arm.

Delilah stood and worked her way
through the seats to the aisle and then descended to the stage. “Yes, Master
Renata?”

The conjuration master waited
until Delilah joined her on the stage. “Now then, I have heard rumors aplenty
that you are a prodigy. A student so gifted you put all these others”—Master
Renata gestured to the room above them—“to shame. What say you?”

Delilah felt her mouth become
dry, like she’d eaten a dozen cotton balls. “I am not a prodigy. I have decades
of experience.”

“Exactly!” Master Renata spoke
more to the room than to Delilah. “Experience! This student”—she gestured to
Delilah—“is here because of the capricious whims of the archmage, not because
she’s innately superior to you. As an experienced wizard, she could probably
teach this class.”

Another murmur raced through the
room. Delilah felt a knot form in her stomach. She licked her lips with a
tongue so dry it felt like sand.

“So”—Master Renata faced
Delilah—“you are excused from this test and from further instruction in the
basics of conjuration.”

Delilah fought to keep from
staggering backward. It was almost an open defiance of the archmage’s
instructions. She bowed to Master Renata.

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