The Alchemist's Touch (26 page)

A black-robed figure stopped opposite the table. Ebon looked up to find Lilith looking down at him, smirking. Oren and Nella stood beside her like always. He barely managed to stifle a groan.

“Well met, jester.” Lilith looked to Kalem, ignoring Theren. “And jester’s monkey.”
 

“What is it, Lilith? I have little patience for jibes today.”

“I had heard you went and watched the High King’s armies march forth. Did any of your kin march with them? Three wizards of Yerrin are within her ranks.”

“I do not know,” said Ebon. “If any of my family are soldiers, I have not heard of it.”

“Of course you would not have. Not all families are as proud of their members as Yerrin. Not all families have cause to be.”

Ebon scowled, and was surprised at himself for doing it. He had little love for his family—so why did Lilith make him feel the need to defend them?

“And are your family taking you on holiday as well?”

He blinked. The question seemed to come from nowhere. “What? Holiday? No. Why?”

“Winter approaches. My family is traveling to Feldemar to welcome it, and they are taking me with them. Mayhap your family is too poor for such a journey? Or perhaps they
are
taking it, and have simply forgotten you.”

Ebon’s hand clenched to a fist on the table.
 

Theren shifted on her bench. “Leave off, Lilith.”

Lilith’s eyes flicked to Theren, and then back to Ebon. “Well, I must away to prepare for the voyage. Enjoy your time trapped here in the Academy, jester. When I return, I shall be sure to regale you with tales of my travels.”

She sauntered off, out of the dining hall and into the Academy halls. Her cousin Oren went with her, while Nella remained, finding a corner table for herself.

“That one is simply insufferable,” muttered Kalem.

“Her boasting does grow tiresome,” said Ebon. “Though in truth, with all we have seen and done in the past weeks, her torment seems somehow less urgent.”

“At least she has given us one piece of the puzzle,” said Kalem brightly. “I would wager that that is why your household staff were making to leave. Your family must be taking a journey for winter, as is hers.”

Ebon was taken aback. “You think she is right?”

“Why else would they have been loading themselves upon that ship?”

Ebon felt troubled. Halab removing the manor staff home without telling him was one thing. But the entire clan taking a journey to Feldemar was something else entirely. Would they all journey north, and not bring him? In his eyes, that seemed a far greater insult.

Theren’s sharp eyes were roving the dining hall, her short bob of hair swinging into her eyes as she looked back and forth.

“Theren?” said Ebon. “What is it?”

“There are no Yerrins in the dining hall. There were two missing from my class this morning, which I thought curious.” She stopped looking about and leaned forwards. “Are there other Draydens enrolled in the Academy just now? Are they still in their classes?”

Ebon shrugged. “Not so far as I know. Only me, and the Dean.”

Her eyes darkened, and she looked away. Ebon knew she was thinking: about the attack in the training grounds, just as he was.
 

The friends finished their lunch in silence.

A hand slapped over Ebon’s mouth, jarring him awake.

His eyes widened, and he struggled to rise from his bed. The barest grey glow drifted through the window, and he could not see his assailant. A powerful arm dragged him from bed, still wrapped in his blanket, and through the dormitory’s rear door. Ebon fought and tried to scream, but his injuries kept his movements weak, and the hand clamped down over his nose and mouth until he could hardly breathe.

Once they reached the hallway, he was pressed firmly—but not too roughly—against the stone wall. There in the torchlight, Ebon at last caught sight of his attacker’s face.

“Good morrow, little goldbag.” Mako’s voice was a silk wrapped dagger. “My apologies for your rough awakening, but a matter most urgent presses upon us, and I could not wait for library time.”

Ebon stared at him, his eyes wide with fear and heartbeat like a giant’s marching.

“If I remove my hand, will you promise not to scream? For if you do, I cannot bring you the message I came to deliver, and that would be terrible for us both.”

Ebon nodded. Mako peered into his eyes, and must have seen what he wanted, for at last he removed his hand.

“What do you want?” Fear and the last groggy remnants of sleep turned Ebon’s voice hoarse and raw.

“I might ask you the same, goldbag. You must want something—or else you would not have returned to the inn with your friends after I warned you against it. And you certainly would not have gone to the docks the night before last. That was foolish indeed.”

Ebon’s knees went weak. He would have fallen to the floor if Mako’s strong arms were not still pressing him to the wall. All his misdeeds were known. Surely Mako would bring this to his father, and see Ebon sent home. Or, worse, Mako might tell the Dean. Then Cyrus might seek to finish what he had started in the training grounds, and leave Ebon’s cooling corpse in some dark gutter.

“Do not look so frightened.” Mako laughed. “Whether you choose to believe it or not, I am somewhat fond of you. I warn you that I know these things, not because I mean to tell our family, but to warn you of your carelessness. And now you must show more caution than ever.”

“You speak in riddles,” said Ebon, trying to sound brave. “Say what you have come to say, and then leave me be.”

“Spoken like a true little lord. As, indeed, I hope you shall one day be. But that will never happen unless you heed these words: leave the Academy, and the High King’s Seat. At once. And forever.”

“What?” Ebon balked. “Why?”

“You must trust me. I have learned things, things I should have known long since. Waste no time. Bring your friends if you must. But make for the nearest boat, or crawl upon the ice like you did at the docks. But leave this island behind you, or face your death.”

“Without knowing why? I am not your puppet, Mako.”

“I could issue it as a command, if you wish.”

Ebon remembered Halab’s words. “And would that command come from Father, or you?”

Mako grinned, his teeth flashing red in the torchlight, as though drenched in blood. Ebon quailed, but forced himself to stay steady.

Ebon gave him a grim smile. “You say nothing because there is no strength behind your words. I may be forced to play into my father’s schemes, but not yours.”

“No strength, you say? I know what you have been up to in the dead of night, Ebon. I could reveal it all to your father, or to dear Halab. What would you do if she withdrew her support? Do you really think you could remain at the Academy if she did? Yet I have chosen to tell
you
. Why would that be, if not for affection?”

“I can think of many reasons.”

“Yet you do not voice them. Trust me in this. Leave the Seat.”

Ebon only glared. Mako met his gaze, and despite himself, Ebon thought he saw earnestness in the bodyguard’s eyes. But then his lips twisted in a familiar smirk. He drew back, and then vanished into the hallways.
 

Ebon watched him go, shaking where he stood.

twenty-eight

THE DAY BEFORE, EBON’S INJURIES had kept him from dressing fast enough to break his morning fast. Now he rushed to don his robes despite the pain, and hobbled downstairs as fast as his legs would carry him. Because Mako had startled him awake so early, he arrived at the dining hall before all but the very first students. There he waited, pacing until it hurt to stand, before leaning against a table until Kalem finally arrived.

“Kalem!” he said, gripping the boy by his robes. “We must find Theren. Something is happening.”

“What?” said Kalem, eyes wide.

“I do not know. But we must find her.”

“We should wait outside her dormitory.”

Ebon nodded, and they set off through the Academy. His body ached with every step, but he forced himself to move on. They climbed the stairs to Theren’s room, and waited outside her door. Students emerged, casting curious looks before brushing by them. Finally Theren appeared, still rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Theren, come quickly,” said Ebon. “I must tell you and Kalem something.”

Her brow furrowed. Ebon took her sleeve and dragged her down the hallway, until they found a secluded corner where they would not be disturbed.

“An agent of my family came to me this morning and warned me to leave the Seat at once.”

“What?” said Kalem. “Why?”

“He would not say. Only that it was a warning.”

Theren’s face went elf-white.

“I do not understand,” said Kalem. “Does some danger await you within the walls? Mayhap he knows of some plot by the Dean to assault you again.”

“He said I could bring you with me, if I wished. Why would he say that, unless—”

“I know why. The Seat is going to be attacked.”

Ebon and Kalem turned to Theren, both of them staring. The hallway fell into silence.

“What?” said Ebon at last.

“Think, Ebon. Lilith and the other Yerrins have fled. I spent the rest of yesterday searching around. Many children of other wealthy families have left as well. Perhaps they know what is coming, or mayhap they only heard some dark rumor of an approaching storm. But they have taken their children and fled. Your manor staff have been removed; you thought it was by your aunt, but it could just as easily have been your father. Something is coming, something powerful enough to endanger every soul upon the Seat.”

Ebon shook his head. “No. That would be treason of the highest order. My father may have concocted some dark scheme, but that is a step too far, even for him.”

“How else do you explain it? Why else would they be fleeing, like rats from a ship?”

“But my parents have not sent for me,” said Kalem, frowning.
 

“Forgive me,” said Theren. “But you have told us already that your family’s star has fallen. And they are from Hedgemond, an outland kingdom. I doubt they would have heard any rumor of whatever doom is coming.”

“Think, Theren,” said Ebon. “If what you say is true, then I am part of it. I did my father’s bidding, and if his scheme was to attack the Seat, then I played a role.”

“You did not know what you were doing.”

“I did
not
lend aid to an attack on the Seat,” Ebon snapped. His voice had grown too loud, and he continued in an urgent whisper. “Others may look upon my family with fear, but not even the rumors of our deeds are that black. Besides, if they were part of this plot, why would my father leave me here?”

Ebon knew the answer before the words had fully left his lips. Theren and Kalem looked at him with such sadness in their eyes that he felt tears welling in his own.

“No!”
he cried, no longer caring who might hear. He thought he might be sick. “No, you are wrong.”

“It is the only thing that makes sense,” Theren said quietly. “What better way to prove your father’s innocence in any scheme, than leaving his own son to die in the attack? It is a perfect deception.”

“If it were my family’s plot, Mako would have not have found out at the last moment—he would have known from the first.” Ebon felt desperate now.

“Unless he lied,” said Kalem. “Or unless it was kept from him, as well.”

Ebon turned and leaned his head against the wall. Autumn’s chill had seeped into the stone, and calmed him like ice to a fever. He took a deep breath. Still he would not believe it. His father did not—
could
not hate him this much. Ebon would not listen to the voice in the back of his mind, whispering,
Yes, yes, Ebon. He could. Of course he could.

“I will prove you wrong,” he snapped. “I will show you. We will search out the points on the map again, all of them. There will be nothing there, just as there was nothing on the docks that night. The map is some smaller mischief, played out already.”

Kalem looked at Theren uncomfortably, then back to him. “Ebon…”

“No. No more words. I will show you. We leave, now.”

Ebon marched off down the hallway. He tried telling himself that he did not care if they followed, though his heart flooded with relief at the sound of footsteps behind him. Together they stormed down into the entry hall. Mellie sat in a chair by the front door, head to her chest in slumber. Ebon broke into a run, threw open the door, and burst out into the streets beyond. Kalem and Theren followed behind him, all of them ignoring the old woman’s squawk as she was startled awake. Before Mellie could react, or even call for help, the three of them had vanished into the streets.

“Well, now we have earned ourselves trouble indeed,” groused Kalem.
 

“I do not care,” said Ebon. “This ends now. I am tired of skulking about in search of the answer to a mystery that has already played itself out.”

His bruises were now forgotten, and he found it easier to walk than he had for days. Indeed, Kalem had to scamper along to keep up, and even Theren’s long legs swung mightily to match his pace. They nearly flew through the streets, Ebon eschewing stealth to take the main road east. Soon they were forced to circle the High King’s palace, until only a short distance remained to the east gate.