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Authors: Erik Buchanan

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BOOK: True Magics
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Thomas suspected Henry had raided the Duke’s treasury before they had left Frostmire.

The apartment had come furnished, with a pair of chairs and footstools and a padded couch in the main room, and comfortable beds and desks in each of the two bedrooms. They even had a stove in the kitchen to cook their own food. They rarely did, since neither had any skill at it, but it was handy for heating tea and soup, and gave them a warm room to sit in during the worst parts of the winter.

Thomas went straight to the dark fireplace when they stepped inside.

“Well,” said Henry as he closed the door behind them, leaving them in the dark. “That was exhilarating.”

“It was stupid,” said Thomas, making a ball of light just bright enough to see the kindling box. He piled a layer into the fireplace. “And useless. We didn’t find a single hint of magic anywhere.”

“We did keep a man from getting beaten senseless,” Henry said, hanging up his coat and cloak on the neat little pegs by the door.

“By idiots who thought he had magic when he didn’t.” Thomas stared at the kindling pile until small flickers of flame rose up from it.

“Of all your tricks,” said Henry. “I think I like that one the best.”

“It is the most useful,” said Thomas. “Aside from the one keeping out vermin.”

Thomas hung up his own coat and cloak, took off his weapons and sat down in his chair. The weariness that he’d been ignoring until then wrapped itself around him like a big, heavy blanket. Henry put a log on top of the kindling and the flames licked and danced around it.

Henry sat in his own chair. “So, now what?”

“I don’t know,” said Thomas. He rubbed his eyes. “We’ve been up since when?”

“First bell of yesterday morning.”

Thomas yawned. “We should probably get some sleep before class tomorrow.”

“Assuming we get to go to class,” said Henry.

“Aye, there is that.” The heat from the fire began seeping into Thomas’s cold limbs. “How much trouble do you think we’re in?”

“Oh, lots,” said Henry. “Doesn’t seem quite so important now, though, does it?”

Thomas shook his head. “It will in the morning, though.”

“What’s the worst they can do?” asked Henry. “Aside from flogging and expulsion, I mean.”

“I was thinking that,” said Thomas. “My father would kill me.”

“We’re star pupils and war heroes,” said Henry. “Plus the king likes us. We’ll be fine.”

“Says you,” Thomas grumped. He held out his hands to the fire. “I don’t think I’ve been warm since the beach.” A memory from the night before leapt into his mind. “The merchant.”

Henry blinked. “Which merchant?”

“At the beach. Malcolm Bright. Invited me to his party to meet others with ‘similar interests.’”

“I’d forgotten about him. I take it you’re going now?”

“I am,” said Thomas. “We are, in fact.” He managed a smile. “All of us. Eileen won’t forgive me if I don’t bring her this time.”

6

George was already at the forge when they arrived at the smithy the next morning. The grey clouds had opened in the night, sending a slow, miserable drizzle to fall on the city. The heat from the forge was a welcome respite, and soon their cloaks were steaming from it. George didn’t look any happier than he had the day before. He grunted a greeting, but his eyes were on the hot metal in front of him.

Eileen came down the stairs with her robe on, but with a skirt underneath instead of the breeches she usually wore. She was looking wide-eyed and nervous, but managed a smile and a “Hello.”

“Good morning,” said Thomas, kissing her cheek. “How was studying?”

“Oh, bad,” said Eileen. “Between being exhausted and worrying about you and thinking about this morning, I got absolutely nothing done. I don’t even remember what books I was looking at.”

“Astronomy,” said Henry. “And Trigonometry.”

Eileen rolled her eyes. “Knowing doesn’t help if it won’t stay in my head.”

“Maybe you can audit a trigonometry class,” said Thomas. “Talk to the Master of Mathematics today.”

“Thomas, I don’t even know if they’re going to let me in the gate, today,” said Eileen. “Can we worry about that first?”

“I’m sure you’ll be allowed in,” said Henry. “At the very least to get yelled at.”

“You’re not helping at all.”

“If I really wanted to not help,” said Henry, after Eileen said good-bye to her brother and they’d stepped back out into the rain, “I’d ask if you’re ready for your first glorious day as the only girl in the Academy.”

“Me? Aye. Sure,” said Eileen, her tone saying the opposite. They walked out of the Street of Smiths and onto the thoroughfare, dodging people and trying not to slip on the cobbles. “Do you think it’s going to be bad?”

“Probably,” said Henry, “But not like the young lords in Frostmire. The students have a code of conduct, and flogging is no one’s friend.”

“Good to know,” said Eileen, not looking at all convinced.

“You’ll be fine,” said Thomas, taking her hand and squeezing it.

“I hope so,” said Eileen. She left her hand in Thomas’s. “What happened last night?”

Thomas told her as they walked. Despite the drizzle, people were thick in the streets. Men were going to their jobs. Merchants with baskets or boxes hawked their wares. Housewives and old women held their cloaks over their heads and gossiped with the neighbours as they walked to the bustling market square.

The square halfway between the Street of Smiths and the Academy and was one of the largest in the city. It had room for a hundred or more stalls and vendors who were selling everything from winter vegetables, to baskets, to wine. The three wended their way through, moving with the crowds and stopping to buy some pastries for breakfast.

“Don’t be fooled!” a man shouted. “Don’t be fooled by those who say that there is no such thing! For I tell you they walk among us now!”

The man was standing on a crate near the street that led toward the Academy. He was ragged and dirty as if he only had the one set of clothes and hadn’t bothered washing them—or himself—since he’d put them on a year or two ago.

“The witches are everywhere!” The man waved his arms as if they would encompass the entire city. He seemed oblivious to the fact that the merchants and their customers were almost completely ignoring him. “They have attacked our northern realm! They have attacked our neighbours to the south! And they will soon be attacking here! They will try to destroy the Church of the High Father! And what will you do about it?”

“Nice timing,” muttered Thomas.

“Perfect timing, in fact,” said Henry.

“He doesn’t look like a churchman,” said Eileen.

“Itinerant preacher,” said Henry. “Looking for money and preaching the many words of the gods as delivered to their brain by the Four themselves.”

“Except they usually preach opposite what the Church does,” said Thomas. “Unlike him.”

Eileen looked the preacher over. “You think he’s with the High Father’s Church?”

“It’s possible,” said Henry. “Though his appearance isn’t up to their usual standards.”

“What do we do about it?”

“Nothing,” growled Thomas. “There’s no law against preaching in public. Especially if you’re on the side of the High Father.”

“Watch your neighbours,” the man ranted. “Watch your family! Beware the witches! Beware the marks of the Banished!”

“Come on,” said Thomas. “We’ve more important things to do.”

“We do indeed,” said Henry. “Can’t miss our scolding, after all.”

The rain was starting to seep through their cloaks by the time they reached the Academy gates. Students were hurrying in from all directions, more eager to be out of the rain then to get to class on time.

“Here, now!” called Michael from a side street. “Wait for us!”

The three turned and saw the Student Company bearing down on them. Several looked rather the worse for wear, but most were smiling.

“I see everyone had a good evening,” said Henry. “How was the Quill?”

“Much calmer without you lot in it,” said Marcus. “No fights, no arguments, just a great deal of food and alcohol.”

“Of which you looked to have partaken a great deal.”

“I wasn’t alone in that.”

“Who cares?” Jonathan pushed to the front of the group. “What happened yesterday?”

“If you’re losing days you should cut back on the drinking,” said Henry.

“This from you.” Jonathan turned to Thomas. “Seriously. What happened?”

“The king was annoyed at us,” said Thomas. “Especially at Henry.”

“And?” demanded Michael. “What happened?”

“We…” Thomas remembered the king’s words. “We had breakfast, he forgave us and sent us home.”

Michael gave Thomas a look of complete disbelief. “And that’s it?”

“That’s all I’m going to talk about standing in the street,” said Thomas. He pointed a thumb at Eileen. “Besides, we have more important things to worry about.”

“Which is why we’re all waiting for you,” said William. “We’ve come to escort Eileen to her first day as a girl at the Academy!”

“Cheers for Lieutenant Eileen!” shouted Mark.

The rest of them gave a cheer, though some held their heads as they did. Eileen blushed and beamed at the same time. “Oh, guys! Thanks!”

“Our pleasure,” said Mark. “We came early so we could greet you at the gate. Except Charles, the lazy dog.”

“Why not Charles?” asked Thomas. “Where is he?”

“No idea,” said William. “I saw last Charles at Terrence Miller’s place, three sheets to the wind and heading for four. He’s either on Terrence’s floor or waking up in some alley right now, wondering why he’s soaking wet and hoping it’s just water.”

“Can we get somewhere warm?” asked Marcus, who was one of the ones looking rather the worse for wear. “It’s going to be a long day, and I’d rather not spend it wet and shivering.”

“Good idea,” said Mark. “Escorts for Eileen, fall in!”

“I’m in your mathematics class,” said William, stepping forward. “And James is in history class. We’ll be your escorts for the first part of the morning.”

“Bill, Ronald and I are in with you for Professor Dodds’ class,” said Mark. “We’ll meet you there. And Thomas will meet us for fencing before lunch.”

“Assuming I’m allowed to stay,” said Eileen. She managed a smile. “Thank you all very, very much.”

“No need,” said James. “Now let’s get someplace warm!”

The troop marched together through the gates, to the amusement of the other students. The Warden at the gatehouse stepped out as they passed “Henry Antonius, Thomas Flarety and Eileen Gobhann are to report to the Headmaster’s house immediately upon arrival.” His mouth quirked up on one side. “Caught some trouble for that stunt at the debate, haven’t you?”

“More than you can imagine,” Thomas muttered. Eileen took a deep breath and kept walking. She was shaking slightly, but doing her best to hide it. Thomas took her hand again. She squeezed his but didn’t look at him.

The Headmaster lived in a very grand three-story brick house that looked down over the other masters’ houses and most of the campus. Thomas had been in it only twice before. Once when he convinced the Headmaster to let him take both philosophy and law at the same time, a second time when Thomas was released from the gaol beneath the Academy the previous summer. The Headmaster, he recalled, had been very pleasant on both occasions.
Which is far too much to hope for today.

The whole company insisted on going with them. Other students watched with curiosity, amusement, and—in a few cases—downright hostility. Thomas hoped more were friendly than hostile, or the next part of the plan was going to be difficult.

Thomas stopped in front of the Headmaster’s porch. “I think we need to go on our own from here,” he said. “We’ll let you know what happens.”

“We’re waiting until you come out,” said Mark.

“We’ll be a while,” warned Henry. “The last lecture I had here took the better part of an hour.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re early for class,” said Michael. “Now hurry up and get yelled at so we can be on our way.”

Thomas led Henry and Eileen up the stairs and knocked on the door. Matron Marshall, the Headmaster’s housekeeper, opened it and glared at the three of them. “Well, about time you lot got here,” she said. “The amount of trouble you’ve caused, I’m surprised you’re still students.”

“We’re surprised, too,” said Henry. “But since we are, would you be so kind as to tell the Headmaster we’ve arrived?”

“Oh, he knows,” said the Matron. “Scrape your boots off and get in here.”

She sent them into the parlour, which was set up for guests, much to their surprise. There was a steaming pot of tea with cups at the ready, a plate of scones and another of sticky-buns. The smell of it all combined together into something at once sweet and sharp that made their stomachs rumble despite the pastries they’d eaten in the square. It was all Thomas could do to resist reaching for a sticky-bun.

“Now you three stay right here until the Headmaster comes,” said the Matron. She waved a finger at them. “And don’t be eating anything, either. That’s for your betters.”

BOOK: True Magics
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