Small Magics (46 page)

Thomas kissed Eileen one more time and led her inside. They found George fleecing Henry and Benjamin at cards. George’s expression when he saw them wasn’t much different from the one he’d used earlier that day. It worried Thomas, who thought, quite rightly, that they had enough problems already. Still, Eileen ignored it, and Thomas followed her example. The card game broke up in favour of left-over chicken and ale. No one said much, except the occasional request for a jug or plate.

The food vanished quickly, and Benjamin and Henry left as soon as it did, to get into the Academy before the gates closed for the night. Neither took any weapons. Thomas wished they could, but any arms inside the Academy would draw questions, and if they were caught in the Theology building, Thomas knew that neither of them would draw against the professors. He watched them go and then settled in to wait.

Time crawled uncomfortably by. George was still looking grumpy, but wasn’t saying anything. He paced about the apartment a while, until he noticed the broken hinges on one of the cupboards. He immediately started mending them, becoming absorbed in the task and pointedly ignoring Thomas. Eileen retreated to Thomas’s room to read, taking several candles with her to light the dark little room. Thomas, his nerves going on edge as the time grew closer, wandered back and forth in the apartment and on the balconies outside.

The first bell of the night rang out. Eileen changed back into boy’s clothes and Thomas put on his sword belt. George slung the bag of tools on his back and took up his stick. Both he and Eileen wore the knives they’d picked out from the smithy two rather long weeks ago. The three slipped the student robes over their clothes and headed out the back door and slowly down the pitch black stairs to the street below.

“All right,” Thomas said when they reached the street. “Anyone you run into this time of night is either looking for a good time, offering a good time, or looking for someone to rob. So keep an eye out, and don’t let anyone touch you.”

“Right,” agreed George, looking around. “Darker than the forest at night around here.”

“It gets better ahead,” Thomas pointed to a faint glow of light in front of them. “The major streets usually have some lighting. Mostly torches in front of the taverns.”

“Better that than this,” Eileen said, moving up beside him. “How long will it take us to get there?”

“It’s a short walk if we take the straight road,” said Thomas. “Tonight, though…”

They wandered through the city, passing occasional open inns and taverns with light and music and laughter coming from within. For the most part, though, the streets were dark, their residents having retired with the sun. Thomas had not brought a lantern for fear of drawing unwanted attention on them from others on the street or any of the bishop’s guards who might be walking the bounds of the Academy. This left them in near-total darkness on the side streets. Several times they passed groups of revellers carrying torches or lanterns and laughing their way down the street. A group of students, drunk and noisy, went by in a rush of black robes and boisterous conversation. Off one street, four men lurked in the darkness of a short alleyway, stepping out when they saw the three friends. Thomas, guessing that they were being sized up for a robbery, drew his sword. The hiss of Thomas’s blade being drawn from its scabbard stopped them cold, and when George stepped up beside Thomas, his stick at the ready, the men faded back into their alley. The three moved on, with Thomas keeping an eye out behind until they were well away.

At last, they reached the street that ran along the Academy wall. The windows of the houses on the other side of the road, mostly occupied by students and tradesmen, were dark. The street itself was empty, and unlike the other thoroughfares, there were no inns or taverns to provide light. Thomas led them down the street at an easy, casual walk until they were opposite where he judged the cemetery to be. He took a careful look to make sure no one else was around and quickly led his friends across the street to the wall.

George put himself against the wall, facing out, and tossed Thomas the rope. Thomas took it and passed Eileen his sword. Stepping first into George’s cupped hands, then high up to his shoulder, Thomas easily scaled to the top of the wall. He kept low, as much out of nervousness as in the hope it would make him harder to spot. He dropped as quietly as he could to the ground and then secured the rope to a tree with a pair of quick knots, before tossing the other end back over the wall.

Eileen came next, boosted by her brother. She straddled the wall, passing the sword and the bag of tools to Thomas, then slid off the wall into his waiting arms. A moment later George heaved himself up the rope, grunting as he pulled his bulk over the top of the wall and landed with surprising gentleness on the sod below. Thomas gathered the rope up, untied it, and put it back in the bag. George took the bag, and Thomas led them slowly and cautiously towards the gate. George attempted to move faster, but stubbed his toe on a gravestone for his efforts. He cursed long and with passion, but kept his voice to a whisper. Thomas waited until he was done, then led them forward again. Eventually they reached the gate, and pulled it open. It squeaked—not loudly, but enough to make all three of them jump. Thomas and Eileen immediately crouched down, but George slipped through the gate before doing the same.

“Are you all right?” Thomas whispered.

“Fine,” snapped George. He stopped, took a deep breath. “I don’t like graveyards.”

“It’s all right,” said Thomas.

“And I’m not happy about you and Eileen, either.”

Of all the times.
Thomas managed to keep his voice to a whisper. “I noticed.”

“Everyone noticed,” whispered Eileen. “Just leave it be.”

“Quiet you,” growled George. “What were you two thinking?”

“George,” Thomas began, but was cut off.

“Could your timing be any worse?”

“Could
yours
?” hissed Thomas. “This isn’t the time or place to be talking about this!”

“I just want to say—”

“You’ve said it! Now come on.”

George fell silent and the three moved quickly around the church. Thomas stopped them to scan the grounds. The Academy was dark; no lights shone from any of the buildings. The paths were empty and there was no movement but the occasional stirring of leaves as the night breezes slipped through the grounds. Thomas led his friends at a dead run across the open ground between the church and the dormitory.

Benjamin was lounging at the door to the baths and saw them coming. He opened the door and stood aside, his eyes scanning the grounds the whole time. The three slipped in and stopped, panting heavily in the dark. Benjamin quickly and quietly closed the door behind them and waited for them to recover.

“So far, so good,” whispered Thomas, when he’d caught his breath. “Any troubles on your end?”

“Not a one,” assured Benjamin. “How was the graveyard?”

“Dead quiet,” said Thomas, earning a hard punch on his arm from Eileen.

Benjamin laughed, quick and whispered, then touched Thomas’s arm. “Follow me.”

Benjamin led them slowly through the baths, keeping everyone well away from the pools. Instead of going up into the dormitory proper, he led them through a thick oak door and down a steep, slippery set of stone stairs. At the bottom he paused, and a moment later the first of a pair of lanterns he’d obviously placed there flared into life. He handed one to Thomas and lit the second. “This is the heating room,” he explained to George and Eileen. “It’s connected to the storage rooms.”

“Which are connected to the root cellar and the kitchen,” Thomas added.

“And the kitchen entrance is closest to Theology,” finished Benjamin. “Henry said he’d meet us there.”

“Why don’t we just go through the main floor?” asked Eileen.

“Door warden,” said Benjamin. “Keeps the juniors from sneaking out. The hall to the kitchen goes right by him.”

“This way,” Thomas started across the room, “and keep the noise down. The furnaces down here carry sound all through the building.”

Benjamin chuckled. “Remember when Graham had his tryst with that woman here, Thomas, three summers back? The entire building heard what he was doing.”

“The entire building will hear us, if we’re not quiet,” warned Thomas. “Let’s go.”

Thomas led them forward, with Benjamin taking up the rear. The large room was filled with huge stone furnaces, black and squat and smelling of burnt wood and over-heated rock. The bath furnaces, with their tubs of water and pumps, were banked for the night, to be heated again in the morning. The other furnaces, with their great vents leading up into the ceiling, were for heating the air, and would not be brought to life again until the nights grew cold.

Thomas led the small troop across the room and through a large wooden door. The room beyond was filled with boxes and furniture of all kinds, most covered with a thick layer of dust. The narrow path left clear among the boxes and furniture wound its way through the room in a series of turns. Eventually they reached the next door. Thomas led them straight through the door to the kitchen cellars. Bins, casks, and shelves filled every available space, and lengths of cured meat and bags of vegetables hung from the ceiling. Squeaks and rustles at the first touch of the light let them know that they weren’t the only nocturnal visitors, though none of them actually saw the mice that were certainly the culprits.

“Hey,” called George, his voice low. “How come you know your way around under here?”

“Everyone does,” Benjamin whispered. “It’s practically a rite of passage to go creeping around down here in your first year.”

“Here we are,” said Thomas. “Come on.”

A set of stairs took them a long way up, and the door at the top opened to the kitchens. Thomas blew out his lantern, and Benjamin did the same a moment later. The group was plunged into pitch darkness until Thomas pulled open the door, letting a thin crack of pale light seep in. He looked, found the room empty, and pulled the door wide. With a quick stride, Thomas led the group across the dark room filled with large tables for preparing food and equally large fireplaces for the cooking of it.

Halfway across, Benjamin hit his head on one of the pots that hung from the ceiling.

He doubled over, holding his head as the noise rang through the room. Everyone froze. Thomas listened, sure the door warden would appear at any moment demanding to know what they were doing. No sound or sign of movement came to him. At last, Thomas whispered, “Ben, are you all right?”

“Aye.” Benjamin’s tone voice was filled with more chagrin than pain. “Just stupid.”

Thomas left that one alone. “Come on.”

He led them across the rest of the kitchen through the pantry, to the outside door and slipped it open. There was no sign of anyone around, including Henry.

“Where is he?” muttered Benjamin. “He said he’d be here.”

“Maybe something slowed him down,” suggested Eileen.

“Aye, like getting caught,” said Benjamin.

“We don’t know that,” Thomas snapped back, worry making the words harsher than he intended them. “We’ll wait here until the third bell.”

“And what if some junior sneaks in for a midnight snack?”

“Then we hide.” Thomas felt his nerves riding higher again, and forced himself to calm down. “In fact, we should go outside so we don’t have to worry about it.”

“What about the Master of Keys?” Eileen asked.

“He carries a lantern,” said Thomas. “We’ll see him a mile off.”

“Unlike me,” Henry said from behind them.

The entire group spun in place, gasping.

“Why do you do that?” hissed Benjamin.

“It’s fun.”

“Well, stop it.”

Thomas interrupted before Henry could reply. “Did you get the keys?”

“Yes, I did.” He held up a large key-ring. There were at least twenty keys on it.

Thomas whistled quietly. “Any idea which is which?”

“Not in the slightest,” Henry put the keys back under his robe.

“Wonderful. Come on.”

The little group followed Thomas out into the night. He led them as fast as he could, trying to make as little sound as possible. There was no one about, and most of the ground they had to cover was grassy lawns. Still, the twenty yards or so to the College of Theology were some of the most nerve-wracking Thomas had ever traveled. By the time the five of them were pressed tightly against the wall of the Theology building, Thomas’s heart was pounding loud enough, he was sure, to be heard at the main gates. Henry pulled the keys out of his cloak and started trying them on the door.

It took most of forever for Henry to find the right key, and Thomas could barely resist the urge to pull them out of Henry’s hands and start trying them himself. Instead, he forced himself to keep his eyes on the grounds, searching for anyone that might spot them. His friends were only dim outlines in the darkness, holding as still as they could while they waited.

Something clicked, loudly.

“Yes!” Henry hissed and pushed the door open with a squeak that made Thomas wince. “Well, don’t just sit there,” whispered Henry, “Get inside!”

They did, Thomas waving his friends past until the last of them slipped through, then following after. Henry closed the door, fumbled the key into the lock, and with another loud
click
, sealed them in.

The hallway was dark, the nearest window too far off to give much light. Only the dimmest of outlines showed Thomas where his friends were standing.

“Right,” said Henry “Now what?”

“Now we rely on Benjamin’s memory,” Thomas turned to the large shadow on his right and found an arm by feel. “Ready, Benjamin?”

“I am,” said Benjamin from the other side of the hall, while George snorted.

Thomas shook his head. “I can’t see a thing. Can we risk a light?”

“Not yet,” said Benjamin. “There’s windows at the ends of the hallways to let light in. Someone outside might see.”

“Fine. We’ll hold onto each other and follow you. Where are we going?”

“The basement, first, then there’s a door that takes us to the vaults.”