Chapter 54
Talisa
Over the next few days, the news about Damien’s condition arrived in bits and pieces, like storm-wreck washed ashore: first that he was still alive despite his horrific injuries, then that he would stay that way, and then that he faced a long recovery because of the amount of blood he’d lost.
Four days after the attack, Mage-Instructor Mundise asked my sisters and me to stay behind after our Fundamentals of Magecraft II lab. As we nervously approached them, their expression softened.
“Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. Arsinoe asked me to tell you,” they said warmly, “your stabilizing charm and fine healing spells kept Mr. Corvellan tethered to life long enough for the infirmary staff to tend to him. His injuries would have killed him within minutes if the three of you hadn’t acted so quickly.
Arsinoe and Ilaria both called your skill and quick thinking—” Mundise paused, and smiled brilliantly at us “‘—masterful battlefield medicine worthy of a legionary mage-healer.’”
I appreciated the compliment, but I hadn’t felt masterful at the time, just terrified, kneeling in Damien’s blood with my hands shaking as I felt his life draining away.
“Thank you, Mage-Instructor,” I said.
“Thank you,” Mira and Juno chorused. From their expressions, they felt the same way I did about what we’d done that terrible night.
“Mr. Corvellan has apparently been asking for you,” Mundise added. “But Mage-Healer Arsinoe says he lost a lot of blood and needs at least a fortnight to regain his strength before she’ll allow visitors. She’ll send you a message when he’s sufficiently recovered for you to see him.”
∞∞∞
“Benno da Vercelli has been expelled from the academy,” Elio announced at that night’s Circle of the Open Hand meeting as soon as the tea had been poured.
In the past few weeks, the Circle of the Open Hand had gained a motley collection of a dozen mismatched teapots.
Elio continued, “He was escorted to the ferry dock by two of Julissa’s clerks this morning.”
The silence that followed had weight. I watched it settle over faces I knew now, faces that had become as familiar to me as the ones in our village back home.
“He was feeding information to Lord Ormond,” Elio continued. “Including everything we discussed in this room.”
“Divine Mother curse him,” someone muttered.
“Cresta probably forced him to do it,” Varrix pushed his spectacles up his nose with one precise finger. “We all know what she’s like.”
“We were almost killed because of him,” Juno said, her expression unforgiving.
“Speaking of murder,” Varrix said conversationally. The room went quiet again. “My friend in the Chatelaine’s Office tells me Chatelaine Lirelle’s response to the attack on Mr. Corvellan was… instructive.”
He paused, letting the word hang.
“Instructive how?” I asked.
Varrix’s mouth quirked. “She summoned the entire administrative staff to her office within an hour of the incident. Chatelaine Lirelle was not, of course, primarily concerned with the fact that two first-year students had nearly been murdered by magic.”
“Anyone surprised by that?” Elio asked sarcastically.
Murmurs of “No,” and “Of course,” rose from everywhere.
“She was worried to death,” Varrix continued, each word precise as a surgeon’s incision, “because Lady Cresta of Pomerado and Lord Bernardo de Espola almost killed the son and heir of General Lucius Corvellan, the hero who commands three imperial legions and the personal loyalty of the Domina-Regent. When informed of the attack on his son, he was granted a private audience on the spot with Her Imperial Majesty.”
I looked at my sisters. Varrix’s report shouldn’t have been a surprise, but it hurt anyway.
“General Corvellan reportedly demanded immediate justice,” Varrix said. “He said that the students responsible for the attack must be punished to the full extent of the law, and that if Her Imperial Majesty was unwilling or unable to provide that justice, he would.”
Someone whistled appreciatively in response.
“The Directorate of Magecraft Regulation dispatched investigators the next day to interview witnesses and conduct their investigation,” Juno offered. “They questioned us all afternoon.” She shuddered.
The Directorate of Magecraft Regulation, usually referred to as the DMR, was a branch of the Imperial Office of Public Order and a sister organization to Arcane Standards.
DMR agents had a fearsome reputation, and I’d worried for Juno and Mira when they were summoned to the Administration Quad for an interview.
Luckily, they were considered witnesses rather than subjects. After several grueling hours, they’d been released from questioning with sincere-sounding thanks for their cooperation in the investigation.
“So, what happened? Did the DMR actually do anything?” someone called out.
Varrix adjusted his spectacles. “For anyone here who hasn’t heard: they concluded that Lady Cresta cast her spell with the intent to commit murder through use of magic.”
There were gasps. Using magic that way—unless you were a legionary combat mage, of course—was a capital offense.
“As if they’ll actually give the imperial treasurer’s daughter the death penalty for that!” Dante commented derisively.
A storm of comments rose from all corners of the room.
“Just wait until you hear what happened when Damien Corvellan finally woke up yesterday,” Varrix said, raising a finger.
Having recaptured everyone’s interest, they immediately quieted down.
“When the DMR agents came to interview him, he named names. And not just Lady Cresta and Lord Bernardo. He testified that Lord Ormond and his cousin Lord Henri Montplaisir had planned the attack together with Lady Cresta and Lord Bernardo. The interesting part is what happened next.”
The common room was dead silent now. I held my breath.
“Lady Cresta and Lord Bernardo apparently made a deal with the DMR agents,” Varrix continued, “and confirmed that Ormond and Montplaisir had orchestrated the recent campaign against Talisa, including the theft of her and Elio’s Aurelian Trials prizes and the ambush of Mira and Juno.
In return, the pair escaped the death penalty for black magic. ”
My sisters and I looked at each other soberly. I couldn’t speak for them, but even after everything they had done to us, I didn’t wish either Lady Cresta or Lord Bernardo dead.
“So, they get off scot-free?” Elio asked, sounding bitter. He added with a disgusted growl, “Figures. Damned aristos!”
Varrix shook his head. “All four have been expelled, effective immediately. They’ve been remanded to Darkstone Academy for, and I quote, ‘corrective instruction and supervised magical rehabilitation.’”
I heard gasps, disbelieving comments, and Elio’s triumphant, “Ha! Good!”
Darkstone Academy. The prison for delinquent mage-students masquerading as a reform school, located on a dismal island where the imperial authorities also exiled political dissidents, non-human diplomatic hostages, and aristocratic mage-instructors who’d run afoul of the law.
It was infamous as the place from which very few exiles ever returned.
For a long moment, no one spoke. The fire popped. Someone’s teacup clinked against a saucer.
“So, we actually won against the Custodes Sanguinis?” Dante said. He sounded disbelieving.
“We?” Mavia asked bitterly. “Because it sounds to me like General Corvellan was the victorious one. Sure, the right people got punished this time. But it wasn’t because they tried to kill Mira and Juno.”
The truth of it felt like peach-pit lodged in my throat. I couldn’t swallow it. And I couldn’t spit it out, either.
Justice had arrived, dressed in a general’s uniform, and with privileged access to the domina-regent.
If Damien Corvellan hadn’t flung himself into harm’s way, I knew that Chatelaine Lirelle and her staff would’ve done everything they could to cover up my sisters’ deaths.
Elio’s hand found mine under the table.
“I wondered if we’ll ever see our Champion’s Badges and Stoles of Aurelian Merit again,” he murmured. “Chances are, Ormond either destroyed them or dumped them in the river.”
I nodded. “I’ll let you know the next time I have thirty-five aurei just lying around and can’t think of what to do with them.”
He laughed.
∞∞∞
Lukhan
Two weeks later
Mr. Corvellan may receive visitors now.
The news reached me at breakfast, passed from mouth to mouth across the dining hall.
I didn’t wait for details. I was already halfway to the dining hall door, ignoring Lady Beatrix when she called after me.
When I emerged into daylight, I ran to the infirmary. I didn’t care about anything except that Damien was finally awake.
For the first three days after Cresta’s catastrophe, he’d stood on Limnis’ threshold, suspended between life and death.
If Damien dies, I’ll die with him.
I’d spent those three days in my room with the curtains drawn and Father’s latest letter on my desk, as the academy tore itself apart around me.
Blinding headaches had left me curled on my bed with a damp cloth pressed to my eyes, unable to eat, attend class, or talk to anyone.
Then Damien had awakened from his healing coma and I could function again.
A fortnight plodded by. I endured the ordeal of mid-term examinations knowing that I’d do well enough to maybe even satisfy Father, but I couldn’t bring myself to care about any of the subjects that used to interest me.
Now I strode through the apothecary gardens surrounding the infirmary building, which stood side by side with the Chapel of the Twelve Gods.
The ward was a long hall with floor-to-ceiling windows that let in fresh air and light. Rows of partitions separating the empty beds offered patients a modicum of privacy.
I shoved through the double doors and the sharp, aromatic scents of dried herbs hit my nose.
Mage-Healer Arsinoe intercepted me as soon as I entered. “Lord Lukhan, we only have a single patient right now, so I can guess who you’re here to visit.”
I nodded.
She continued. “Mr. Corvellan is conscious, but still easily tired from blood loss. You may visit him for fifteen minutes.”