Errant Spark (Elemental Trials Book 1) Page 10

  The question was the same one Torina Kylan had asked that first night, but this time a thrill went through him and not an entirely pleasant one.

  His mouth curved up in a mocking little smile, “Believe me, even if I were prone to boasting, this isn’t an encounter I’d brag about.” He regretted the words immediately.

  Her eyes bulged and her face flushed scarlet.

  “What did you say?” she hissed, nails biting into the tender skin on the inside of his wrist. He could tell from the initial sting that he’d bear a nice set of puncture marks there.

  Jex stiffened and stepped back from her a pace, but refused to acknowledge any discomfort. “You have my word, my lady, that no one will ever know of this. Good day.” He removed her hand and turned on his heel,

  Just before he was out of sight, she fired off her parting shot. “You’ll pay for your insults, you smug son-of-a-whore!”

  * * *

  Aelani outlined the agreement she had made with Jex over a small and quiet dinner with her husband and brothers. The young mage had disappeared, presumably into the city, and the girls were dining in the garden, taking advantage of the cool evening air. Sarene had seemed out of sorts, but refused to tell anyone why and Aelani had somewhat reluctantly let the matter drop.

  “You are a very shrewd woman, Aelani my dear,” Brinon chortled, once she’d finished her tale. He wiped his mouth with a linen napkin. “You’ve secured yourself a blank-slate spy for the price of a tutor.”

  “So it would seem,” she agreed, “He consented readily enough and Kylan adores him. I think this will work out to the gain of all concerned. What do you think, Eryk? He was your apprentice, after all, and you know him best.”

  The High Mage set aside his fork and took a small sip of wine before answering, “I think Jex will make an excellent tutor for Kylan and he should take to your lessons quite well. He’s an incredibly quick study and has always enjoyed a challenge. He has some additional skills that are well suited to the position you have in mind.”

  “What sort of skills?” Jordin inquired, “Other than his knowledge of Atromorese? Although I think that is skill enough to make him invaluable. Where did he learn, by the way? I daresay no one in Turris Arcana taught him.”

  “His mother is a native and he learned from her before he came to the Tower,” Eryk explained, “They lived here in the city, in the slums, which is where he learned the ‘other skills’ I mentioned.”

  A moment of dead silence fell.

  Aelani at last voiced her disbelief, “The Brotherhood?”

  Eryk failed to mention that when he’d come to her twenty years ago. She’d been under the impression that Jex had simply been a common cutpurse.

  “Yes. He’s a runner for their Lady, has been since he was five or six.”

  “Well. That is useful indeed. I think you’ve come out the better in this little arrangement, sister,” reflected Jordin as he idly swirled his goblet before drinking deeply.

  “I believe I have.” This was certainly an unexpected turn, but a welcome surprise. Some of the best spies in Egalion’s history had ties to the Obscuri Brotherhood, to the Shadow Court and its Lady.

  “You may need to postpone this plan of yours for a bit, however,” Eryk informed her.

  “Oh?” Aelani asked, leaning back in her seat. “And why is that?”

  “I spoke with Anya this afternoon and she’s informed me that we’re expecting a kvinna.”

  “Word certainly travels quickly in this family.”

  “I’m sorry, my darling,” Brinon offered.

  “It’s quite alright. I’ve resigned myself to the idea. What does this have to do with Jex?”

  “I’m… acquainted with the sister in question and she is very capable, but her party will have to pass through a great deal of open country and with all the recent unrest, I would feel better if one of my mages escorted them. Jex leaves on the morrow.”

  “I see.” She shrugged. “No matter. The lessons can just as easily start when he returns, but I think Sarene and Kylan will be disappointed to see him go.”

  Brinon snorted. “I think a great many ladies will be disappointed to see him go. The lad has a perpetual shadow of females. I wonder where he gets that from.” He shot a devious look at his brother-in-law, who only smiled and raised his goblet to his lips.

  The room was quiet for a time before Eryk spoke again.

  “There is something else you need to know about Jex, something that he himself doesn’t know. His mother swore me to secrecy when she allowed me to take him to Turris Arcana, and I’ve never breathed a word of it before this night. I need your sworn word that the knowledge will never leave this room.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The room at the top of the ancient, rickety stairs is dark, hot, and close, the air redolent of things that make the skin crawl and the hair stand on end. This is not a place one enters with good and honest intentions and its tenant is spoken of only in fearful whispers. They are both avoided by all but the desperate and the desperately greedy.

  The splintered door creaks as it opens, but only a little, and light from the alleyway briefly skitters over the dusty threshold. It illuminates nothing, as if too horrified by what lies within to reveal it.

  “I’ve become rather popular all of a sudden.”

  The voice is as aged as the blackened wood of the door, and quiet as the brush of a cobweb in the dark.

  “You have a reputation, Old Mother.”

  “Of course I do. What do you wish of me?”

  “Knowledge. And power of course. The usual things people seek of you, I suppose.” There is a touch of bored contempt in the speaker’s voice, though not enough to completely hide the underlying wariness.

  “I don’t work for free.”

  “No one does.”

  “Then you’ve brought payment?”

  “Of course.” A bag rustles and several metallic objects clink against one another as they scatter across a tabletop. There is a short silence before the old crone begins to wheeze in laughter.

  “You’re in over your head, child. What need have I of coin at my age?”

  Another bag drops amidst the coins, but this one falls with barely a sound. Bent and knobby fingers pull the drawstring and there is a sigh of satisfaction.

  “Not the best quality, but it’ll do. State your purpose.”

  “I seek the Guardian, Old Mother. I have a request, and you will tell me how to summon Him.”

  A short bark of disbelief cuts the air. “You would send for a Consort as if he were a mortal page, to do your bidding? Ignorant fool!”

  “Keep your opinions to yourself, crone. I’ve paid you for your services, not your judgment. Now tell me what I want to know!”

  “Fine,” she said sullenly, “but your fate be on your own head. Only the stupid shun the advice of the old ones. For what reason do you summon Him?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Oh yes, it matters. Your purpose determines which incantation you are to use, and what preparations you must make. Have you a copy of The Book?”

  “Which book? I have many.”

  “You truly are an ignorant, but it’s no concern of mine. The Seventh Door is needed for your task. The ritual you seek is contained within.”

  “I haven’t the time nor the inclination to travel all the way to Turris Arcana for a copy. Try again.”

  “But you needn’t. There’s a copy hidden away in the Imperial Library, if you can get it. Be wary, though, for the priests guard it well and I hear tell there are two new mages in the palace. One of them the High Mage himself.”

  “Noted. What else?”

  “Listen carefully. You risk your soul in this and it’ll be no one’s fault but your own if you make a mistake...”

  Enari sat bolt upright in her bedroll, cold sweat trickling down her face and a cry of warning lodged in her throat. The night beyond her tent was still, save for the occasional pop of a log in the campfire and the shift o
f a man in his blankets. Her eyes darted back and forth, searching the shadows for any hint of the crone or the Other, but she was alone.

  Lying back down, she closed her eyes and tried to banish the images, but it was no use. Sleep did not come for her again that night and it was with a troubled heart that she finally rose at dawn.

  CHAPTER NINE

  It was their thirteenth day of riding since leaving Cyril and Enari was bored to death with the grasslands. They’d crossed from the dim, humid jungle of Zyr into the arid and open plains of Tesriel early three or four mornings past and she already hated the seemingly endless expanse of green and gold. It had been fascinating at first, and their party made much better time, but now…

  Small brown birds twittered and flitted overhead, diving into the meadow to disappear for a time before leaping back into the cloudless sky. Enari assumed they must have mates or nests full of hungry young hidden in the tall grass.

  She sighed as she scanned the open land for what felt like the thousandth time that morning. Even the birds here were drab and colorless and she had seen no other animals to speak of, even if vague rustlings and bending grass hinted there must be something out here besides birds.

  She missed the brightly varied life of Zyr with a desperation that gnawed at her. The Temple had felt confining at times and she’d spent hours staring out at the horizon, longing to travel beyond it. But now she wanted nothing so much as to return home, to the serene kvinnas and the safety of her high redoubts. This place was too open; she felt naked and vulnerable beneath the vast heavens.

  Hours before noon, it was already blisteringly hot and the air was dry as old bones. Enari used her sleeve to wipe the sweat from her forehead and licked her parched lips, wishing, not for the first time, that the brown tunic was at least sleeveless. She’d found several light tunics without sleeves when she dug through her pack that first night, but hadn’t thought she’d need them. Zyr was humid and warm, but it was shady under the trees and she had always been quite comfortable in the long, bell sleeved cotton garments worn by the novices. They were also well suited to keeping the bugs at bay.

  Thus the clothing that would be more appropriate for late summer in Tesriel were buried in the bottom of her pack and the pack was strapped behind her on the pony.

  Approaching hoof beats broke her gloomy train of thought and she lifted a hand to shade her eyes, impatiently pushing back hair the inconstant breeze kept blowing across her face. A horseman was riding towards them from the northwest at a quick canter, the tall grass swishing around the knees of his long-legged mount.

  Having caught sight of their party, he raised a hand to hail them. Vasi reined in her horse, and the small procession straggled to a halt. The guard captain and his men warily checked the draw of their swords and balance of their pikes, watching the approaching stranger with dark, suspicious eyes.

  To her annoyance, Enari’s fat little white pony immediately dropped her head to crop at the roadside verge. When she tugged the reins, the beast merely flicked its ears and rolled an eye back to glance at her in disinterest. Enari kicked her lightly in a fit of pique, but was ignored completely. She felt her patience unravel another notch. Goddess, were all horses so stubborn or was it simply this one in particular?

  Within moments, the rider had reached them, and he made straight for Vasi and Enari.

  He was quite handsome, Enari thought, studying him as he neared, although, she had to admit that she really had very few men with whom to compare him. Other than the occasional trader, men were not allowed on the Temple grounds and the nearest Zyrite village was miles away. This one appeared to be several years older than she and of average height, though his legs were long and he had a rangy build. His black hair was pulled into a tail and several strands framed his face, ruffled by the wind. He was also well armed, with a sword on his hip and a black, curiously carved staff slung diagonally across his back.

  He must be a mage.

  The prospect of meeting a real mage made her nervous. The older novices had told both terrible and beautiful stories of the sorcerers who dwelt in the fortress of stone in the far lonely north.

  When he drew near enough for her to clearly see his face, the first thing she noticed were his eyes. They were the most vibrant emerald she’d ever seen and fringed in thick lashes that many a woman would envy. He had a slightly angular nose, and full lips that seemed ever on the verge of a smile. His skin was lightly tanned, but that could have been from the dust of riding. His clothes, while fine, were certainly covered in it.

  Pulling his mount to a halt, the young man bowed from the waist, which looked a little uncomfortable astride a horse. When he spoke, it was in a smooth baritone that made Enari shiver for reasons she didn’t quite understand.

  “Jex Xander, at your service, my ladies. Well, Jex to my friends and Battlemage Xander to everyone else, if they know what’s good for them at least. Might either of you gorgeous visions be Vasi de’Curande?”

  His eyes met Enari’s and a little frisson of energy passed between them. They each sucked in a startled breath and their mounts shifted nervously.

  “Well, well, Nani. What have we here?” he asked in surprise.

  Enari stiffened slightly at the bold informality. From the little Ibirani she had picked up, ‘Nani’ meant ‘my little butterfly’. She narrowed her eyes at him. Little she may be, but certainly no butterfly, and most definitely not his in any fashion.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Vasi press her lips together in a thin line of irritation. She pulled herself up straight and pinned him with a glower to which he seemed entirely oblivious. Enari recognized the pose and winced. It was the same one her Sura assumed while lecturing wayward novices…generally ones about to be sentenced to a month of something unpleasant.

  Like scullery duty. Or weeding the Apothecarium garden. The newcomer had no idea of the tongue lashing he was bringing down on himself.

  “Battlemage Xander, I am Vasi de’Curande. I know you do things differently at Turris Arcana, but it would behoove you to address my apprentice with a little more respect—”

  Jex blinked. “Apprentice?” He gave Enari another long, appraising look. “I wasn’t informed you’d be bringing an apprentice. Isn’t she too old? I’d have guessed her to be sixteen at the least, and I thought vows were taken before then.”

  Vasi said nothing, merely continued to stare him down until he blushed and broke eye contact.

  “My apologies, Novice. I meant no disrespect.” Despite his humbled words, he winked at her again and she had to fight to hold back a smile this time.

  She thought she might like this Jex Xander. He would at least be better company than the pony, if nothing else.

  Vasi huffed out a sigh. “State your business, Battlemage. It’s hot and I have no wish to tarry here without need. You might not be aware, but there are bandits and rebels rumored to inhabit this area.”

  Jex straightened and cleared his throat. When he spoke again, it was in the tone of a consummate professional; cool and respectful. He turned fully to Vasi and addressed her in a polite manner.

  “Which is the reason for my presence. I have been sent by High Mage Alycon to escort you to Rowan. He is concerned with your safe passage since, as you say, bandits and rebels are reported to inhabit this area.”

  Vasi blinked in surprise. “Eryk sent you?”

  “Yes, Kvinna. I am recently graduated from apprenticeship and went with him to Rowan to attend the Imperial family. When the High Mage learned that Torina Anya had summoned you, he ordered I see you safely to the capitol.”

  “How am I to know the truth of your statement?”

  Smiling faintly, Jex withdrew a sealed parchment from within his tunic and passed it over. Vasi studied the wax seal closely before breaking it and unfolding the single sheet. She scanned its contents, then returned it to him.

  “Your…escort, and the High Mage’s thoughtfulness are much appreciated, Battlemage Xander. We would be so pleased to
have you join our party.” Vasi sounded anything but pleased, though the young man before her seemed oblivious to the frost in her tone. Saluting smartly, he nudged his horse and rode ahead.

  “Mouthy little popinjay,” Vasi muttered, watching Jex ride forward to join the captain of their small guard.

  * * *

  Enari sat cross-legged on the ground near the campfire. She ached in every joint and muscle of her body from the days of riding and a hard tumble or two. She’d taken only rudimentary riding lessons at the Temple; there had been no need and she’d had little interest for more, and thus she was not accustomed to the activity. The pony she’d been assigned seemed to enjoy making the ride more uncomfortable than necessary which didn’t help, a sour part of her grumbled.

  The fire’s heat against her face was a pleasant contrast to the cool night air around her. A bowl of stew sat forgotten in her lap, a hunk of bread left untasted on one knee as she brooded. She rubbed her neck and winced; she wasn’t used to all this sleeping on the ground, either, though she would never hint to Vasi that she was uncomfortable.

  “May I join you?”

  Without waiting for a response, Jex Xander settled gracefully to the ground beside her. He offered her a tin cup and she took it, warily examining the contents.

  “You have the look of someone who could use that.” He jerked his chin at the cup before turning his attention to his own bowl of stew and chunk of bread.

  Chamomile and meadowsweet wafted up on the steam and she inhaled appreciatively, but didn’t drink.

  “Oh, I almost forgot!” Fishing a flask out of his pocket, the mage unstoppered it and leaned over her, pouring a small amount of something brownish into the tea. “Not the best quality, I’m afraid, and I know it smells vile, but it’ll take the edge off your sore muscles, I promise.” He grinned at her startled expression before settling more comfortably and beginning to eat heartily.

  Enari took a tentative sip and tried not to gag. It was horrid, but the warmth that spread in her belly was soothing, so she continued to drink. They sat in silence for several moments as stars twinkled to life overhead. A few even shot brightly across the sky and Enari watched them, still awed at the sheer immensity of the view above her. At the Temple, parts of the night sky had always been obscured by foliage, even when viewed from the high branches of the trees she climbed.