Chapter 27 #2
I slept for a fitful few hours, visited in my dreams by the usual carousel of suffocating blue flame and monsters with horns and long fangs.
Only this time, they appeared to me in a circle of yew trees.
The trees leaned toward me with their spindly limbs, as if to trap me in this place.
When I opened my mouth to scream, the voice that came out was not my own.
It’s time.
I woke to the sharp staccato of knuckles rapping against my door. My skin was dewy with sweat.
“It’s time to meet the Chancellor,” came Enhart’s voice.
Exhaling a shaky breath, I rose and changed hastily into a simple dress and boots. I scraped damp hair off the back of my neck, weaving it into a braid. I cast a final look out my window before joining Enhart in the corridor.
A cool draft blanketed us as we entered the Chancellor’s study.
A cherrywood desk sat in the corner, its surface covered in sheets of used parchment and a glass box that contained a small, metal circlet.
The walls were lined with towering bookshelves, the tomes nestled against each other as ancient as the man who slumped in a weathered armchair by the fire.
The Chancellor was unlike any vampire I had ever met.
His weathered skin was taut like vellum that had been stretched over his angular frame.
The beard that fell over his chest matched the wispy, yellowed hair on his head.
He looked as though he could have been in his eighth decade of life, were he human.
He blinked open silvery eyes as we approached.
“Your Royal Highness,” he rasped in an accent I couldn’t place. “Please forgive me if I do not bow.”
“I shall, but only because I’m not sure you could manage it,” Enhart quipped.
The vampire’s gaze flitted to me. I sensed nothing from him. Not the faintest whisper of emotion. “You must be the King’s witch.”
Enhart snorted. “Finwal Erramun,” I said, ignoring him. “Pleased to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine,” he replied. “As I’m sure you have already been informed, I am Ivor Sorrell, Chancellor of Hollybrook University.” Silence fell as the vampire looked me up and down. “Your Royal Highness, if you do not object, I’d like a moment alone with Miss Erramun.”
Enhart paused for a fraction of a second before retreating from the room with an, “As you wish.”
When the door creaked closed, Ivor waved me into the seat beside him.
The upholstery must have been very fine in its original state, but was now faded and frayed at the edges, as if used regularly by a housecat to sharpen its claws.
A musty scent reached my nose, and I wondered when the windows had last been opened.
“What are your impressions of the university so far?” the Chancellor asked, his unblinking eyes remaining on me as if I were a puzzle he was trying to solve.
“I’ve never been anywhere like it,” I admitted.
“There are few places like it in Valen,” he said. “The founders intended for its design to mimic the mountains around us. Firmin the Crafty, a pioneer in Elemental Architecture and Enchantment, was the chief engineer back then, although he left our faculty a few years after the school opened.”
“You …” I faltered. The vampire remained silent as I processed the thought forming in my mind. “You’re one of the figures in the stained-glass mural, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
I raised my eyebrows. That would make him over two thousand years old. “How …” I paused, unsure what to say. “How interesting.”
He nodded as if in agreement. “Firmin designed this study as well, you know, leaving behind a number of enchantments.”
“Enchantments?” I asked.
“To ensure privacy and secrecy for moments much like this where the Crown Prince of Valen is hovering outside my door, attempting to eavesdrop on our conversation.”
I grinned. “So you can hear him, but he can’t hear us? He must hate that.”
He returned my smile, revealing his long, graying fangs. “I’m sure he does. Fortunately for us, it means that we might speak freely.”
I swallowed. “Oh.”
“I’ve been told that you possess extraordinary potential,” he said.
My cheeks warmed. “The King is very kind.”
“I suppose, although he is not the one who made that particular observation.”
My eyes flicked toward the closed door.
“You’ve been training for some months now. Tell me, where have you found your strengths to lie so far?”
I shrugged. “I think I’m decent at elemental magic. And corporeal, which is what we’ve been focusing on lately. Psychal was the hardest at first, but I have a handle on it now.”
“And your gift? The Ealdorfyre?”
I gritted my teeth. “I don’t know what the prince has told you, but it is no gift.”
“But you have summoned it in the past, yes?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “But only once.”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “Intriguing. We’ll get to that later, though, no need to bore you with its history tonight. What would you say to a tour?”
“I, er … yes?” I said, dazed by the abrupt end to the conversation.
As we reunited with Enhart in the hall, the Vice-Chancellor bustled past, thrusting letters into our hands.
“These just arrived for you,” she said, before turning on her heel and disappearing up the dark corridor.
I turned the envelope over to see a crimson seal with two wyverns intertwined in wax.
My heart thudded against my ribs. I hadn’t heard from Mordric since we left Valnar, and I was still riddled with guilt over the unspoken words between us as we said our goodbyes.
I wondered if he would say it again. Oh gods.
“I’ll leave you to it,” said Enhart, taking his letter and slinking off into the darkness.
The Chancellor, however, was apparently in no rush to read his.
Instead, he escorted me to the furthest corners of the school, droning on about the history of the hallowed halls through which we walked.
This alcove was where Eustace Remingham came up with the idea for the Remingham staff, which allowed witches to channel their elemental power.
That courtyard was where King Fane befriended Prince Edward of Galrin, forging what would become a prosperous alliance between the two kingdoms.
As we traversed the great hall, which during term would be packed with students eating supper or catching up on their studies at this hour, a flash of burgundy caught my eye.
A figure lurked in a nearby alcove, his round face pulled into a frown.
He was dressed like one of the sages I had once seen at the temple of Aris on the outskirts of Valnar, in a shapeless maroon robe cinched at the waist. I was so distracted by him that I nearly smacked into the Chancellor.
“Bewitched by the stained glass, I see,” he said, pausing his detailed description of the vaulted ceilings.