Free The Firemage's Vengeance by Garrett Robinson Page A

grounds?” said Ebon, meeting Xain’s stare. He was growing more and more fed up with the man’s unreasoning hatred of him. “Is it not your job to protect us? I seem to remember that you made such a pledge when you first came here.”
    “It is my job to protect the Academy,” said Xain. “From threats within, as well as without. Sometimes it is hard to tell the difference—other times it is quite clear.”
    Kalem quailed, but Theren drew herself up. “You have been wrong about such things before, Dean. Mayhap you see threats when none exist.”
    Xain stared her down. For a moment Ebon feared they might come to blows, the way they had when Xain had attacked him in the dining hall. Then, without a word, the Dean stalked away.
    “Darkness take him,” muttered Theren.
    “He is a suspicious man,” said Kalem, shaking his head. “Yet who can blame him? These are dark times. Come. I am weary, and I suspect the two of you feel much the same.”
    They made for the stairs, and then up to their dormitories to sleep.

nine

    IN THE LIBRARY THE NEXT day, they reunited in their favorite spot on the third floor. The place was even darker than usual. That part of the library had never been very well kept, and now the faculty had suffered losses, so that many of the lanterns stayed unlit. Kalem took one from the wall out in the main area and set it on the table beside them, so that they could read by its fiery glow.
    But reading did not come easy. Ebon struggled to keep his mind upon the book in his hands, a weighty tome entitled The Conquering of Idris: A Telling of the Fall of the Tomb-Kings. Idris was his home, and he had thought the subject might hold his attention. But too often he caught himself staring off at nothing. It did not help that the book was written in a dry and informational style, with no attempt to make the events more interesting. Not that they needed much embellishment—the magic of the Tomb-Kings of old was well renowned, and well feared. His distraction was aided by weariness, and often his head drooped towards his lap. He had spent another sleepless night in the common room of his dormitory, dozing off only in little fits and starts.
    After they had sat there for perhaps an hour, Theren gave a frustrated little growl and slammed her book shut. “Enough of this. I am through pretending to study, when all of us know we are doing nothing of the sort.”
    Kalem looked up blinking from his book, shaking his head as though he had forgotten they were there. “Hm?”
    “Well, except for Kalem, I suppose.” Theren folded her arms across her chest. “But I cannot even see the words on the page. Do neither of you wonder what she is waiting for?”
    “Who?” said Kalem, eyes still foggy.
    “Isra, of course, you idiot,” Theren snapped. “It has been two days since we saw her. Why has she not struck again?”
    “I had not wondered, for I have been thinking about Erin,” said Ebon. “Where on all the Seat could she be hiding him?”
    “There are many abandoned buildings upon the Seat, after the attack,” said Kalem. “Why, Mako himself took us to one of them.”
    “But that is just it,” said Ebon, leaning forwards. “He must have searched out all such places by now. They would be the easiest to search. If Erin were in one of them, Mako would know something of it. Isra must be staying in some place where there are other people, and she can rely upon their secrecy to conceal her.”
    “Then let us catch her, and throw her to the Mystics so they may put her to the question,” said Theren with a glower. “Only that begs the same question as before—what is she waiting for?”
    Ebon shrugged. “It has been more than two weeks since we fought her in Xain’s home. She took her time to plan the attack in the dining hall. Now that we foiled it, she will likely be even more careful in her plotting—especially now that we know she has returned.”
    “That will take more time that we do not have.