Firebrand 3 the acolyte, p.30
Firebrand 3: The Acolyte, page 30
"You're playing a dangerous game, Martel. Refusing to join us on a job is one thing, that's fine, but selling your services to the other side? Right in Lady Pearl's backyard?"
Martel gave a shrug. "I'm not playing games of any kind. I know the actors down in that theatre. You attacked my friends while I was present. You expect me to stand aside and do nothing?"
"If you had any sense, yes! You knew we had come on behalf of Lady Pearl. You know what it means to make an enemy of her. You've burned your bridges, and for what? You think those painted fools can resist, keep their lousy little theatre?"
"They've done nothing wrong. If burning a bridge means protecting innocent people, I'll set fire to every damn plank of wood in Morcaster." Finding his nerve, Martel returned her gaze without flinching. Power seemed to be the only language these people understood. Thankfully, he possessed it more than most. "And I'm fire-touched – those aren't idle words."
"Don't push your luck. You go directly against Lady Pearl, she'll find a way to retaliate," Flora warned him. "You'll never see it, and it won't be traced back to her. She doesn't keep her position by ignoring threats."
"That's the sentiment she's taking too far. They're a bunch of actors and a hedge mage in that tavern," Martel argued. "None of them pose any danger to her, yet she's scorching the earth in reaction."
The earthmage shook her head with a sarcastic smile. "You're being naïve. It doesn't matter if that's true. Lady Pearl will never allow an unpredictable mage in her midst who's beholden to her greatest rival."
"Well, she doesn't have to worry. I already told them they should leave, and they've agreed to do so," Martel informed her.
A sceptical expression met him. "Just like that? She'll find it hard to believe. I already do."
"That's because you think of them as spies and assassins rather than what they are, ordinary people wishing to avoid conflict," came the irritated response. "Just give them a day or two to pack up, and your Lady Pearl will have her wish."
Flora crossed her arms. "This better not be a ploy. If this is simply buying time to enact some scheme, you'll be considered guilty as well, regardless of your involvement."
For a moment, Martel hesitated. Could the hedge mage actually be part of a plot by Lady Pearl's enemies? He dismissed the thought immediately. Even if Regnar might do something like that, it was not in his nature to endanger the rest of his company. He would have kept them out of it. "Just give it time. They'll be gone soon enough."
"I'll relay that, but don't think our eyes are closed. Given you spend most of your time here, at the Lyceum, it'll be easy to return to that tavern when you're absent. And that hedge mage doesn't stand a chance on his own," Flora said sharply.
Martel looked at the woman he had considered a friend, of sorts. They had fought together. None of that seemed to matter now, only her latest task. She was truly a mercenary, placing coin above any notion of friendship.
"That won't be necessary," he finally said. "But you should be careful about provoking a battlemage. We're known for our temper." Martel got on his feet, fed up with threats. He had faced Flora once before, and their powers in battle seemed even at that time; since then, his quiver of spells and his magical prowess had greatly increased. He saw no reason to fear her, and if she brought her entire mercenary band against him, Martel would stake his life on Maximilian and Eleanor being more than a match for the whole lot. He turned around and began to leave.
"Still naïve, I see." Her voice reached him, but he refused to give her the satisfaction of the slightest reaction, so he continued walking with the same stride, showing no sign that he had heard her parting words.
EIGHTY-THREE
A CHILD'S INNOCENCE
The worst of his concerns about the troupe alleviated, Martel could better concentrate on his lessons the next day. Still, until the actors left the bridge district, they would not be safe. The sooner the better. Just in case he might help facilitate this, or should Regnar need assistance persuading the rest to pull up their tents, Martel figured he would pay them a visit. It would also ease his lingering worry that despite their intention to leave, his friends might still be targeted by further attacks. Seeing them unharmed would ease his mind.
The Four Flagon Tavern was quiet, all things considered, with only a handful of customers in the common room. On his way in, Martel had also noticed people outside on the street keeping a careful watch. But the place seemed peaceful, at least, with no imminent sign of trouble brewing. Down in the basement, he quickly located Regnar.
"You guys getting ready to leave?"
The hedge mage nodded. "I convinced the others. They all saw the wisdom in avoiding this conflict – except Ian, I guess, but you can't expect a child to always understand. We're just slowly packing things up. We had rather expected to stay here a long time, so we're not quite as swift to have everything back on carts as in the old days. We also sold our draught animals, so Theo is out buying new oxen."
"That's good. I spoke to the earthmage from the Night Knives, those mercenaries that came here. I told her you were leaving – hopefully, that means they'll stay away and let you go in peace."
"I appreciate that, lad." Regnar sat down on the nearest bench and took out his pipe. "I shouted at those fellows on the other side of the street, those watching us, much the same message. I figured they'd take it back to the mistress, though by the looks of them, I might have overestimated their intelligence."
Martel chuckled a little, despite how serious and unfortunate the situation felt. "I suppose it's best not to take chances. I can't be sure that Flora, the earthmage, passed on the message either. Maybe I should go myself to the Pearl and let them know."
"Nah, lad, don't go near those people. We'll be fine and out of here soon enough." Regnar bit into his pipe and gave Martel a pat on the shoulder.
"All the same, I don't like the idea of a misunderstanding causing another fight, especially as I probably won't be here to help. And I don't think I have to go straight into the wyrm's lair, as they say. You think I could borrow some parchment and a writing set?"
A short while after, an urchin carrying a message in one hand and a copper penny in the other entered The River Pearl. With the note delivered, the child continued on her way, keeping the coin for her troubles. Meanwhile, down the street, Martel sat on a crate watching the passers-by. He had liked the bridge district; an interesting blend of people and travellers, the presence of those he thought were friends such as the Night Knives, and memories of happy times spent at places like the Pearl. Little of that remained, and Martel knew he was not particularly welcome in this quarter anymore.
His thoughts ended at the appearance of a young woman, whose red lips still intrigued him despite it all. "I did not expect to see you again, though at least you had the good sense not to walk straight into the Pearl," Ruby said.
"I just wanted to tell you something."
"You know, written notes are exceptionally useful for that purpose."
"Messages can get lost. I thought this important enough to tell you in person."
She kept her eyes on him. "Go on."
"The actors, including the hedge mage, are leaving. Your mistress will get her wish. In a few days, they'll be gone."
"That's good to hear. Provided it's true."
A trickle of bitter laughter escaped from Martel. "That's how you see the world, isn't it? Everything is a ruse, everyone deceives, nothing can be trusted."
"I trust myself. What my eyes and ears tell me. I trust my hand wielding a dagger and my feet to be quiet. Trusting anything other than that only invites you to be fooled." Ruby spoke with half a smile, but Martel sensed that she meant every word fully.
"If that is how you wish to live. I said what I had to say. You can leave the tavern alone."
Now it was her turn to laugh, and the sound held no more joy than when Martel had done so. "It is true what they say about the pride of wizards. You think simply because you have said so, that's how it goes. All that power must really go to your head. I wasn't given such gifts at birth – I've had to fight for every scrap I could ever put my hands on."
In her words, Martel saw a glimpse of the child she had once been. Not much different than Julia, Sparrow, or Weasel. Made unkind by an unkind world. "In that case, I'll set my pride aside and simply express my sympathy."
"Still arrogance, simply by other words. Goodbye, wizard." She turned around and left with hasty steps.
Leaving the bridge district, Martel decided to extend his journey a little by including a trip to the harbour. He was curious how the potion had worked on Julia, assuming she had tried it. She did seem to have the scavenger's instinct of collecting everything but never using it, always afraid it might be more needed another day. But if so, he would impress on her that she ought to drink it. Soon enough, he would be able to make plenty more, after all.
Knocking on Julia's door, it remained closed. When somebody finally spoke to him, it came from an unexpected angle. "You looking for the woman who lives there? You're her friend, right, I've seen you."
Martel turned his head to see a small girl sticking her head out from another room down the corridor. He could not help but smile at her words; he supposed to someone as young as her, even Julia might seem like a grown woman. "That's right. I just wanted to speak with her briefly. Are you her friend as well?"
"I'm afraid to talk to her. She's so pretty."
Martel laughed a little. It was nice to be reminded that some children still had innocence.
"I did follow her a few times, but she went into the smelly place, so I went home again."
"The – smelly place? The sewers?"
The girl nodded. "Yeah, that's what my dad called it. Said I wasn't allowed down there."
"He was right." Martel frowned a little, wondering why Julia would go back down there.
"Child, stop talking to strangers!" The voice came from behind the girl, within their rooms; a start went through her, and she slammed the door shut.
Nothing further to glean, with no idea where Julia was or when she might return, Martel left.
EIGHTY-FOUR
BAD MOON RISING
With the threat to his friends taken care of, Martel could stop worrying so much and focus on his lessons instead. At the same time, his class in advanced elemental magic brought his mind back to the fight at the Four Flagon Tavern. His primary opponent in that fight had not been the warriors, but Flora with her frost rays. Had the fight taken place on terrain more favourable to her, she would undoubtedly have raised her earth wall before he remembered to use his own fire equivalent, and they might have lost the brawl.
It made Martel realise that he still was underequipped facing mages with abilities different than his own. He might beat them in the Chamber of Earth, but only because he was more experienced and specifically trained for combat. His only regular sparring partners with equal training were the other fire acolytes or the mageknights, none of whom could prepare him for facing a veteran mage skilled in air, earth, or water.
"Master Alastair, are there defensive spells one might use to protect against other elements? I'm not worried about fire, obviously, but what about the others?"
His teacher calmed the winds around them in the Hall of Elements and looked at the acolyte. "There is. I had use of them against the Tyrians, who are quite skilled with water magic. But you'll most likely be facing Khivans, my boy, who don't employ magic of any kind. I'm not sure your time is best spent with this."
Martel had other concerns besides Khivans. "Still, I'd like to learn. Just to be prepared."
"Very well. We should have time before you finish the year. Once you have mastered the elemental bolt, we'll move on to a counterspell."
"Thank you, master." With this promise obtained, Martel resumed practising the air bolt.
Leaving the hall after class, Martel had not gone far down the corridor when he saw a sight to make him freeze on the spot. Two inquisitors came towards him in quick stride, looking dour as always. Just as Martel was about to turn around and find Master Alastair to help him, the mage hunters moved right past and continued on their way.
Martel's relief was quickly replaced by curiosity. He had not seen the inquisitors inside the Lyceum for months. It made him wonder what had brought them back.
Looking for quick answers, Martel turned around and walked the other way to cross the dining hall and reach the entrance of the school, where he approached Henry sitting behind the desk. "What're the inquisitors doing here?"
The air acolyte looked uncomfortable, either from the topic or Martel's presence, perhaps both. Still, he replied, "Same old chestnut. Searching for the maleficar that keeps eluding them. Bloody useless, they are."
"Still? They already interrogated everyone once. Why would they think there's something new to gain?"
Henry shrugged. "How should I know? They don't tell me."
Strange why they would renew their search all of a sudden. What might have happened?
A thought came to mind, and Martel left abruptly. He hurried up the stairs to reach the Tower of Air, which gave a good view in every direction. Searching around, it took Martel a moment to find his quarry; in the last of the daylight, it was hard to find on the horizon. But he saw it, a full moon slowly rising towards its zenith. The maleficar's favoured time to carry out his dark deeds.
And Martel suspected he knew where this evil wizard hid himself. Both he and the inquisitors had searched the sewers without luck, but not because they were mistaken about the maleficar's hideout. Rather because he retreated to the one place none of them dared to follow.
Martel's last trip through the sewers came to mind, when he had paid Weasel to lead him through that underground labyrinth that he might return unseen to the Lyceum, after the ambush on the docks with the Night Knives. They had passed near the catacombs, and Martel had felt an evil presence unlike any other. If the maleficar could be found, it would be in that place.
But it was not his problem to solve. The inquisitors would never listen to him anyway; they would just accuse him of being in league with the maleficar. And they knew about the sewers already, so if they actually cared about finding this villain, they would search there instead of the Lyceum.
The sewers. Martel's conversation with the small girl, Julia's neighbour, came to mind. Even though he had rented a room for her, Julia still went down there.
Concern growing, Martel tried to think calmly about this. He had once before been afraid of this scenario, and Julia had turned out to be fine. She knew the sewers well, presumably how to hide and find her way back.
Still, just to ease his mind, he decided to pay her a quick visit. She had been gone yesterday, but she would probably be home tonight; seeing her would let him put his concerns to rest.
Martel knocked and knocked. Julia being gone two nights in a row – it could happen, he supposed, especially if she preferred this particular hour for doing errands.
Even so, Martel felt increasingly uneasy. It seemed unlikely that of all the people in Morcaster, Julia would be the one taken by the maleficar; it was just not probable. But what if more than coincidence played a part? Martel had investigated the maleficar, pursued him, both in the copper lanes and the sewers; what if all his efforts had gotten him noticed, and now Julia paid the price for his failed heroics?
Still trying to stay calm, Martel walked down the hall to knock repeatedly on another door. A matronly woman opened with an almost angry pull. "What?" she exclaimed.
"I am Master Martel of the Lyceum." He saw her eyes widen. "I need to speak to your daughter. The small child."
She cleared her throat. "Yes, good master. Child, come here!"
The little girl appeared soon after, almost hiding behind the doorframe until her mother grabbed her by the neck and pulled her forward.
Martel knelt down to even some of the height difference. "You remember we talked about my friend, who lives down the hall?"
The girl nodded.
"When did you last see her?"
"Yesterday."
"Do you know where she went?"
The girl shook her head.
"But she's not been back?"
"She's never outside during daylight, master mage," the mother interjected. "It's true, your friend left late last night. We've not seen or heard sign of her since then, though she's a slippery sort. Pardon me saying so," she quickly added.
Martel got back on his feet. "Thanks." He left without further words, hearing the door quickly shutting behind him.
Back on the street, Martel's mind churned with thoughts as he walked back towards the Lyceum. Most likely, this was all a coincidence and Julia was fine. Certainly, none could argue it was his responsibility to stop this maleficar. But if the dark sorcerer had taken another victim, Julia or someone else, they would presumably die at his hand, fodder for his cruel rituals. Martel could try to warn his teachers, but he imagined that by the time he finished explaining everything, time would be up. And they would positively chain him to his bed if he had to admit the details about his pursuit of the maleficar.
Martel had a choice. Do nothing or attempt to save a life, assuming anyone was actually in danger. Above him, the full moon slowly climbed further and further up.
EIGHTY-FIVE
THE SECOND TOUCH
An insistent knocking continued until Eleanor finally opened her door to see a fire acolyte and a mageknight outside. The former looked stressed, the latter seemed annoyed. "What is happening?"
"I wish I knew," Maximilian muttered.
"As I told you," Martel interjected, "tonight is a full moon, and I think the maleficar has taken another victim. I also think I know where he is hiding, but I don't want to go after him alone."
