Free Leximandra Reports, and other tales by Charlotte E. English Page A

discovering the
ball. Then Karan Reed had begun to run; she leaped, just as the
glowball flared into blazing life. Her fingers closed around it and
she was away, sprinting for the scoring line at the end of the
field. The other players charged after her, her own teammates
defending her from the opposition’s attempts to tackle.
    Tren held his
breath as he watched her flying down the field. Three times she was
nearly brought down; three times she twisted away with glorious
agility and ran on. She made it; the crowd roared as she crossed
the line, the glowball still blazing with light in her hands. Green
light flashed over the pitch, signalling a point gained for the
Academy Team.
    Tren applauded
with the rest of the spectators, whistling his appreciation. Karan
Reed must be close to graduating; she’d be a fearsome sorceress
once she finished her training. Probably she was already on the
Chief Sorcerer’s recruitment list.
    ‘ Crap,’ he said suddenly. ‘Time to go.’ The moon had slipped
closer to the horizon, too close. He had less than half an hour to
get to the Night Cloak Chamber. ‘You staying?’
    ‘ Someone needs to stay and cheer on Reed,’ Ed replied. ‘On
your behalf, naturally.’ He said it lightly, but something in his
voice and manner sounded off. Tren paused. He’d frequently had the
sense lately that Ed wasn’t quite himself, but his enquiries were
typically brushed off.
    He tried again
anyway. ‘You okay, mate?’
    Ed smiled
briefly at him, but he didn’t quite meet his friend’s eye. ‘Course.
Get along, will you? I don’t want the game ruined because you’re a
lazy ass.’
    ‘ Good
point.’ Tren vaulted off his perch, landing with practiced
ease.
    He had to pass
one of the city’s largest bulletin boards on his way out of the
gaming fields. The thing was enormous, displaying its rotating
schedule of images and articles at such size that one couldn’t help
but be caught by it. Tren tried to avert his eyes as he approached,
determined that this time he wouldn’t make an idiot of himself by
looking for one particular face to flash up on the
board.
    Fate betrayed
him. There she was already, almost as large as life. Lady Evastany
Glostrum, pictured at some high society event. Her hair - the rare,
true-white hue only occasionally seen among Glour’s citizens - was
elaborately arranged and decked with jewels; her dress was velvet
or something, dark red like blood. Tren stopped, all thought of the
Night Cloak emptying out of his head.
    He had never met
Lady Glostrum in person. He was a powerful sorcerer and naturally
therefore he had a good job, so he wasn’t poor by any means; but
that didn’t come close to putting him on a level with the realm’s
aristocrats. Maybe that was why she fascinated him. She was a
popular figure, and chief of the realm’s Summoner organisation
along with it; her image regularly appeared in the city’s bulletin
news, and even more regularly in the gossip papers. He’d never seen
her looking anything but perfectly composed, perfectly arranged and
perfectly beautiful. Could she possibly be so glorious in
person?
    Doubtful, he
told himself sternly. He allocated half a minute to absorbing this
new image of her ladyship - he didn’t have time to read the article
- and then he turned his head away and continued on. The Night
Cloak wouldn’t wait any longer.
     
    ***
     
    The Chamber was
guarded, of course, but he’d been on this job for more than a year;
they all knew him by now.
    ‘ Mr
Warvel,’ said Rhan Garrit with a nod. ‘Cutting it a bit fine today.
Met someone?’
    Tren responded
to the teasing with a grin. ‘There’s a game in progress. Reed’s
playing. You know how that goes.’
    Garrit whistled
as he unlocked the door. ‘Right enough. Go on through.’
    ‘ Thanks,’ Tren said. He made his way through the building to
the centre where the Chamber itself was situated. The room was a
large, oval shape with a high, domed ceiling. It was not