Chapter 7
~7~
S haking inside, as sick and full of turmoil and as a foul and muddy Meresin bog, Alise scurried like a fugitive through the midnight corridors of Convocation Academy. She’d followed this route so many times, traversing the familiar path from the library to the dorms practically in her sleep, sometimes even more exhausted than she was at the moment, but never before feeling quite this terrible.
Never before so gut-wateringly ashamed of herself.
Hurrying for no good reason, other than the guilt chasing her, she nearly ran through the shifting shadows of the moonlit halls. As always, the shadows seemed to curl and twine like living beings, independent of the objects casting them. The academy was so steeped in magic from centuries of research, supervised practice, and the occasional accident from a fledgling wizard, that it infiltrated the very stones of the hallowed halls. Regular cleansing by House Zomen bled off the residual magic and defused anything becoming too animated, but they must be about due for a sweep, by the feel of it. Nothing repressed the ambient magic for long and it always burgeoned just before the next cleansing.
Alise only wished she could enlist a Zomen wizard to cleanse her interior self of the foul residue of her actions. She’d been awful to Cillian. She could tell herself it was for the best, which it was. She’d had no choice but to create distance between them. She couldn’t risk him ever finding out the threats Gordon Hanneil had made. Cillian couldn’t be involved in what came next, because this would only get worse and more dangerous. Possibly not just for her.
Yes, House Hanneil had frightened her as intended. But this wasn’t over. Alise had spent the hours since Bossing the Bodiless organizing her task list and prioritizing her efforts, something she always found soothing. She’d skipped dinner—as Cillian had perhaps not so astutely surmised—since her stomach hadn’t recovered enough for her to risk putting anything else in there. Then she’d buried herself in reading for exams in the morning, taking refuge in thinking only of what she needed to memorize and nothing else.
The time alone with her thoughts had helped. With a few hours distance, Alise could see what Gordon’s attempt at intimidation truly meant: House Hanneil was afraid of what she’d find if she kept looking.
Which meant there was something to find.
Alise hadn’t yet decided how to handle things from here. House Phel needed this information and she couldn’t allow Hanneil to stop her research—even if that cursed compulsion flexed painfully every time she thought about it, convulsing like a will-eating worm embedded in her brain.
Maybe Nic and Gabriel really could and would file the petition to open the sealed archives at House Harahel. In the aftermath of the battle for House Phel—not to mention Maman’s death—there hadn’t been a lot of opportunity to discuss the fact that every bit of information regarding House Phel seemed to have been scrubbed from Convocation Archives. Alise had explained her and Cillian’s fortuitous appearance at the siege in the nick of time by telling everyone about the excursion to check the House Harahel archives. But they’d all been exchanging stories and, with Jadren’s dramatic rise to Lord El-Adrel, and truly astonishing and unprecedented newfound magical abilities, plus Seliah’s discovery of her glamourous alternate form as a big, black marsh cat, a trip to the library hadn’t garnered a lot of attention.
Then Nic and Gabriel had sent Alise back to Convocation Academy, their attention split in a dozen different directions—which Alise absolutely understood—and they hadn’t given her much in the way of instructions except to keep up the good work and graduate.
Really, there wasn’t much Alise could do here at Convocation Academy if every important bit of information regarding the precipitous fall of House Phel had been removed—or destroyed—as it seemed. And yet… would Hanneil have taken such an extreme step to stop her if there wasn’t something to find right here?
Regardless, definitely the first step had to have been cutting Cillian out of the loop and she’d at least done that, if not cleanly, then quickly. Without him looking over her shoulder, Alise could manage the appearance of pretending to be compliant with Hanneil’s threats. She could continue her search while seeming to be working on other things. But Cillian was far too perceptive for her to deceive him that way.
And, though the compulsion prevented her from speaking of Gordon Hanneil’s more loathsome threats, she couldn’t run the risk that the astute librarian-wizard would detect her upset and dive into solving the riddle. He wouldn’t be able to resist the puzzle and, with his brilliance, he’d probably figure out everything, which would be a disaster. She and Cillian in no way had any kind of romantic relationship, but she felt in her bones that he would take the way Gordon had spoken to her very badly. Cillian had a bit of a white knight tendency, usually a charming trait, but he couldn’t save her from this. Not with cinnamon rolls and whatever a kolache was.
No, she’d absolutely done the right thing, for Cillian’s sake, for House Phel’s, and for her own. She only regretted that last bit of showing off, squelching his fire elemental. That had maybe been too petty.
But he needed to stop baking for her. She’d really wanted whatever was in that basket. Whatever a kolache was, it smelled savory and delicious. The enticing aroma had made her mouth water and too-empty stomach clench. It annoyed her no end that Cillian had somehow kept track of the fact that she hadn’t eaten dinner, and that overwhelming irritation had prompted her impulsive bit of minor vengeance, putting his fire elemental to sleep. She felt bad about it now, though that drop of guilt barely pinged in the bucket of the rest of it.
Like that look on his face when he’d asked if he’d hurt or offended her. So stricken, so genuinely concerned for her, even in the midst of her deliberate cruelty, as she stood over him and did everything in her power to ice him out, to thoroughly and irrevocably destroy any friendship between them. She shouldn’t have offered him that favor. In truth, she hadn’t meant to, but she’d felt so guilty, like such a monster, when he’d said he’d always be her friend. The favor had occurred to her in the moment, as a way to formalize the distance between them.
What she really, really shouldn’t have done was write down that she owed him a favor. That was truly irresponsible. If her father didn’t hate her already, he’d want to kill her for that alone. An Elal scion owing a member of another high house an open-ended, unnamed favor? Unthinkable.
And yet, when pressed, she hadn’t been able to refuse. Cillian hadn’t requested she write down that promise out of calculation, she reassured herself. He didn’t have a manipulative bone in his body. No, that was the archivist in him, where he simply had to have a record of every little thing, let alone a potentially major transaction like that. Good thing she wasn’t fated to become a high-house power or a favor like that out in the wild could be a major problem.
Knowing Cillian, he’d pick something small and innocuous anyway, like meeting for a cup of coffee. That would be fine. She would pretend to be friendly and gracefully duck any intrusive questions, and then her obligations to him would be dispensed with. Everything would work out for the best.
A murk condensed across the hallway. Alise slowed her steps.
That was odd. Then things got even odder, very quickly.
The shadows coiled into a shape like a person. Alise altered her course to go around the mirage. Whatever direction or diffuse consciousness drove the behavior of the ambient magic that sometimes manifested as these swirling shadows, it had a sense of whimsy that bent toward mischievous. It liked to scare people, or at least startle them.
Therefore, it wasn’t a surprise, exactly, when the “person” tracked her trajectory, gliding into Alise’s path. With a sigh of exasperation—she was tired, and hungry, and full of guilt and unaccustomed shame, roiling with impotent angst over Gordon Hanneil, and so not in the mood for prankster shadows—Alise erected a woven wall of air elementals to ward off the nebulous magic.
Most of it was illusion, a variety of psychic magic that to her senses colored the space with prismatic shimmering. She wasn’t terribly concerned, as the ambient magic never accumulated to levels potent enough to cause real problems, but it had kind of trapped her near the corridor wall and she’d had more than enough of that for one day. She also prepped her basic self-defense, just in case, ready for anything, learning from her past mistakes.
So, when the shadows parted and a young woman stepped out, Alise launched her spirit warrior to behead the person out of sheer, panicked reflex. A tiger instantly melted around the woman, appearing from nothing, reared up, and batted the warrior’s sword away like a play toy.
A real freaking tiger and not illusion.
Alise goggled, shocked into inaction, the worst possible reaction. Freezing in stunned surprise was never the correct response, either magically or not.
“Before you counter,” the woman said quickly, wizard-black eyes dark in her brown face, “please stay your hand. I mean you no harm.”
“Do the people who do mean you harm announce it up front?” Alise retorted sardonically, but she also pulled back her magic. She could kill the tiger. She also didn’t want to, it was so beautiful. “Is that an actual tiger?” she inquired as a cover while she inventoried her options—and reserve of magic. Without a familiar, she was limited to only what she had stored within, which was more than most wizards, though she hadn’t yet fully regenerated what she’d used up in Bossing the Bodiless. It certainly wasn’t enough for a pitched battle, especially against what appeared to be a high-level House Ariel wizard.
Spirit warriors were all well and good for intimidation purposes and they could cause real life damage, but mostly excelled at being intimidating, which didn’t work well against animals. Non-corporeal entities in general tended not to affect animals that much. Oh, animals could perceive spirits very well, far better than mundane humans could, or even wizards without spirit magic. They just didn’t bother about them for the most part. Animals had an enviable ability to live in the moment and spirits fell into the realm of non-immediacy. Even if the spirit could inflict real-world damage, no animal worried about that until it happened.
“You’re asking me if the tiger is real?” The woman, chestnut hair cut so it fringed around her face and just brushed her shoulders, cocked her head slightly. Her emerald green necklace stirred, looping of its own accord, and sleek snake’s head poked through the hair beside her ear, forked tongue flicking in Alise’s direction. “You think I’d spend that much magic to make an illusion of a tiger with no ability to defend me?”
Alise very nearly retorted that she had zero idea of what this wizard would or wouldn’t do, but held her tongue. It had been an admittedly foolish question. A falcon flew out of the shadows and landed on the wizard-woman’s shoulder, on the opposite side from the snake. “I’m going to guess House Ariel,” Alise commented drily.
The woman dipped her chin in an affirmative. “Please forgive the somewhat dramatic entrance, but I needed to speak to you without witnesses.”
You and everyone else in the Convocation apparently. Alise stopped herself from saying that aloud, too. Still, what was up with wizards jumping her in the hallways lately? “I can’t imagine why a clearly high-level House Ariel wizard would want a clandestine conversation with a Convocation Academy student in a darkened hallway in the wee hours of the morning.”
“Can’t you?” The wizard sounded amused. The snake flicked its tongue as if taunting Alise for her foolishness. The tiger wrapped a tight circle around the wizard, trailing her tail along the woman’s waist in apparent affection, then lay down before her, panting lightly. The falcon flexed its talons but otherwise didn’t move. Was one of the three the wizard’s familiar in alternate form? Probably. Not that it mattered, as the Ariel woman couldn’t access her familiar’s magic while they were in animal form. She wouldn’t necessarily need an extra boost of magic, however, since she would be able to compel her companions to attack Alise. And Alise didn’t know what she’d do then.
“As you surmised,” the wizard said with a hint of impatience, making Alise realize she hadn’t yet replied, “I represent House Ariel’s interests. I am the Wizard Courtney Ariel and I bear a message for you.”
“You know,” Alise replied, not relaxing her guard in the least, keeping a keen eye on those animals while gathering a few spirits to aid her, “there are these convenient things called Ratsiel couriers. You can task them to carry messages for you. Very handy. No need to ambush people in dark hallways.”
Courtney smiled thinly. “Your sarcasm betrays your discomfort and fear, but again, I reassure you that I mean no harm. I come to you this way to say what cannot be entrusted to Ratsiel courier.”
Despite herself, Alise’s curiosity stirred. Another high house lining up to take sides? But why they were talking to her instead of someone with actual power, she had no idea. You are at the center of a brewing storm, young Alise. Professor Cixin’s words floated through her mind, leaving unease behind. “All right, I’m listening.”
“Would you establish a silencing shield, please? I’m rather taxed maintaining control of the animals and the illusion that conceals my presence here.”
So Alise hadn’t been wrong when she sensed some kind of illusion magic at work, which made her feel a little better. Wizard Courtney clearly intended to appear as if she’d emerged from a portal, though that kind of magic occurred only in old stories and no modern wizard thought it was even possible. If it ever had been. Many opined that the tales were based entirely on myth. Lots of wizards, however, used various parlor tricks to make it seem as if they’d manifested from nowhere. In House Elal, for example, wizards loved to employ shrouding spirits to create that exact effect. It only worked on non-wizards, though, so most people rolled their eyes at such magic-wasting efforts.
Technically, illusions were not in the purview of House Ariel. Their trademarks were limited to psychic magic in relation to animals, including control and breeding. And yet Courtney had taken the risk of using illusions, which had to be for more than trying to look fancy, especially with Alise who would know better. More curious than ever, Alise circled a finger in the air to indicate she’d established the requested soundproofing, realizing belatedly that she’d picked up the gesture from Cillian. It shouldn’t hurt to think about that.
“Speak,” she told Courtney. “I’d really love to get some sleep tonight.”
“I wish you easy rest then,” Courtney replied, making it sound like she found the probability of that very unlikely. “I’ll be brief. My message is this: beware House Hanneil.”
Alise nearly rolled her eyes, which at least felt better than the bone-watering terror Gordon Hanneil had instilled in her. “Got it. If that’s all then—”
“That’s not all,” Courtney interrupted with sharp impatience. “Dark arts save me from disrespectful teenagers.”
“Hey, you came to me,” Alise pointed out, not at all bothered and, in truth, a bit maliciously pleased to be annoying someone else for a change.
“I came to you out of duty and necessity, not my own inclinations. I am sent to warn you that House Hanneil may attempt to halt your research into the tampered archives.”
Alise bit back the words too late , and focused with interest on the implications. First, House Ariel knew about the vanished House Phel archives. Second, Ariel knew enough to predict Hanneil’s interference. Third, Ariel didn’t know enough to be aware that Wizard Gordon had already threatened Alise. Fourth and finally, why in the dark arts did House Ariel have a stake in this festival of power-grabbing?
Alise, naturally, didn’t verbalize any of these speculations. Instead she just said, “Oh?”
Courtney pressed her lips together, not at all pleased by the lackluster response to her dramatic declaration. “Have they contacted you in any fashion?”
“Wizard Courtney,” Alise said, exhaustion and exasperation making her abrupt, “with all due respect, why does House Ariel care about any of this?”
Courtney narrowed her wizard-black eyes. “For a mere student, you have a great deal of attitude, young Elal.”
“Young Phel ,” Alise corrected pleasantly. “And I feel compelled to point out, yet again, that you came to me. I didn’t ask for this clandestine interview. I refuse to be placed in the position of supplicant.”
More unamused than ever, Courtney spat, “I’m here to help your ungrateful ass.”
“No,” Alise corrected calmly, “you’re here to serve the interests of House Ariel. You even said so. How about you share what those interests are and maybe we can have a conversation that goes somewhere.”
The wizard gathered her poise. “My house is no ally of Hanneil’s. That’s all you need to know.”
No, it wasn’t. Not by a long shot, especially as it was hardly news. Hanneil had very few allies, particularly since the wars after which House Hanneil was sanctioned and stripped of many of their most lucrative trademarks and placed under extreme restrictions to prevent them from exercising psychic control on unwitting Convocation citizens of any stripe. Not only did Hanneil have almost no allies:furr they had almost all enemies.
“All right,” Alise said. “Message delivered. Can I go now?”
“That’s not all,” Courtney snapped.
Alise tried to look politely interested, though she had to stifle a yawn. Then she reconsidered. Why should she? Unleashing the jaw-cracking yawn, she waited.
Wizard Courtney really hated that Alise didn’t beg for her precious messages, which gave Alise a bit more petty satisfaction. Finally the Ariel wizard bit out an exasperated huff. “House Ariel has received word of… tampering with the wizard–familiar bond.”
Alise forced herself not to show any indication of her suddenly alert interest, and precipitously dropping stomach. Instead she feigned confusion, even as her heart rate accelerated. The snake flicked a forking tongue at her—possibly detecting her tension and informing its wizard.
“Tampering…” Alise shook her head in what she hoped was a convincing show of puzzlement. “Is that even possible? The wizard–familiar bond is eternal, unbreakable except via death.”
Courtney scrutinized her closely. “What if I told you we had evidence it had been done?”
“I’d wonder how House Ariel had come by such evidence and why the entire Convocation doesn’t know about such an alarming development. I am only a humble student of Convocation Academy, but I’d have to wonder what stake Ariel has in the matter. I don’t know of any connection between House Ariel trademarks and the magic that creates the wizard–familiar bond.”
That last wasn’t entirely true. The origins of the enchantment that created that bond remained shrouded in mystery and obscure history. Even the oldest texts referred to the wizard–familiar bond being a well-established phenomenon. However, from what her family at House Phel very carefully hadn’t said, Alise had gathered that when wizards learned to invoke the magic upon graduation from Convocation Academy, it was accompanied by a geas of some sort. Even the wizards who seemed to want to discuss it couldn’t and didn’t.
Further, it made sense that binding animals to a wizard would be much the same as binding a human familiar to one. Especially knowing House Ariel was so vitally interested.
Courtney remained unmoved by Alise’s implicit and accusatory question, watching Alise intently. “I’m sure you’re aware that there is a great deal of overlap between Elal and Ariel areas of expertise. Though our trademarks and areas of business vary extensively, both houses select for wizards with strong MP scores in psychic magic.”
“Though with very different subgroup strengths,” Alise pointed out. She refused to be baited. “For example, I can’t wrest away control of your animals any more than you could take over my warrior spirit. And neither of us can read or control minds.”
Courtney smiled grimly. “ You might not have the ability, young Elal,” she said, ignoring Alise’s previous correction, “but another wizard of your house very well might. There is something fishy going on and you are hip-deep in it.”
“As I indicated previously,” Alise said with dignity, “I no longer have a connection with House Elal. Whatever the house of my birth may or may not be doing, it has nothing to do with me.”
“Doesn’t it?” Courtney smiled grimly. “Your own mother, Lady Elal, a familiar, was somehow separated from her wizard master, your father, Lord Elal. It seems you are intimately connected to the question.”
Alise covered her alarm—and the wave of grief—by snorting. “Wizard Ariel,” she said in a tone of excessive patience, “I know everyone’s stations and titles in my immediate family. You needn’t reiterate them.”
Her face darkened with an angry flush. “What do you know about the situation? Where is Lady Elal?”
Was her father behind this in some way? And odd that the news of her mother’s passing hadn’t reached House Ariel. Though she supposed no one at House Phel had reason to advertise it. “Maman passed away,” she informed the Ariel wizard with quiet dignity, allowing her grief to show. “I’ll thank you to mention her with due respect.”
Definitely shocked her there. “I’m sorry for your loss,” Courtney murmured, the snake’s tongue flicking rapidly and the tiger’s tail tip tapping. Clearly the wizard couldn’t wait to report that news.
“Thank you.” Alise waited, glancing toward her destination pointedly.
“We are aware that Iliana Ariel has been hiding out at House Phel,” Courtney said, which might have sounded like a non-sequitur to most people, but made perfect sense to Alise. Iliana had been one of the familiars Alise had helped to escape Convocation Academy with her familiar-lover, Han.
Alise only raised her brows. What Courtney expected her to say to that, she didn’t know. Except that it had sounded like a threat and Alise had stomached enough of those for one day, also.
“Keep your head down and your fingers out of dangerous pies, student wizard,” Courtney advised, shaking her head. “You are being closely watched.” Abruptly, she brought her cloak up in a sweeping motion to cover her face. Smoke and shadows billowed up in a wave and, when the haze cleared, she and her animals were gone.
At last, Alise allowed herself to roll her eyes for the theatrics, then continued on her lonesome way. No longer full of self-recrimination, she brewed up her own personal strategy. Try to intimidate her, would they? Warn her off by threatening her peace of mind, her friends?
Well, she might no longer claim Elal as her house affiliation, but Alise had been born an Elal and the blood of the most powerful wizards in the Convocation ran hot in her veins. No one tangled with an Elal and came out the better for it.
Alise had plans to make.