Free The Alchemist's Touch by Garrett Robinson Page B

her view with his body. But her lips twisted in a cruel smirk, and she pushed past him to grasp the cup. Lifting it before her face, she dipped a finger into the crude oil.
    “The trial spell?” she laughed. “That cannot be the only magic you know.”
    “It is,” said Ebon, still flush with shame. But now annoyance was blossoming to anger in his breast, and he spoke without thinking. “My father never wanted me to train, and if he caught me trying magic—”
    The girl stopped Ebon with a loud laugh, the others behind her snickering along. Then her eyes glowed white, and she snapped her fingers. A spark sprang from her hand and landed on his sleeve. He felt the heat of it immediately, and with a cry of dismay tried to beat it out.
    “Oh, does my flame bother you?” said the girl, laughing harder. “Here, perhaps this will help.”
    She threw the cup of oil on his sleeve. It doused the spark, but also splashed across his body, soaking through until the cloth clung to his skin, cold and clammy.  
    “I have not seen a greater waste in all my years here,” she said. “But I suppose I am grateful. We have a jester back home, and I have missed having someone to amuse me. I am Lilith of the family Yerrin, jester, and I am most pleased to make your acquaintance.”
    Lilith dropped the cup and strode off through one of the dormitory doors—thankfully not his own. He sat back in the chair, not caring that his wet robe would soak into the cushions, and hung his head. No matter how hard he squeezed his eyes shut, he could not stop a tear of shame from leaking down his cheek.

nine

    WHEN HE HAD COMPOSED HIMSELF, Ebon retreated to his own dormitory and dressed in a clean robe. Then he changed his mind, removed the robe, and climbed into bed in his underclothes. He had no wish to meet any other students, especially not now. He had imagined the Academy would be different. Here he thought to free himself from family obligation, from the infighting and politics that had surrounded him since he was old enough to understand them. But it seemed instead that he would face a whole new host of problems—or perhaps just Lilith, but she seemed trouble enough to last him a lifetime.
    Perhaps she will forget about me soon—especially once I begin to learn my magic.
    You are a fool, came a voice in his mind. And for that, he had no retort.
    Classes must have ended, for soon other students came in from the common room, bustling with noise and conversation. Ebon ignored them all and pretended to be asleep when they drew near. It was late in the afternoon, but still hours from nightfall, and Ebon spent them all in bed, curled up and pretending not to exist. It was a long time before he finally drifted off into a restless slumber.
    When he woke, the dim grey shining through the window told him that dawn had not yet broken. He rose quietly, thankful that no one else had risen yet, and donned his robes. Then he made his way out of the dormitory, through the common room, where fires burned in both hearths, and down the stairs to the first floor.
    The Academy was quiet and empty. Ebon felt as though everything around him had taken on a magical quality, otherworldly and not quiet real. It was easy to imagine, at least for the moment, that all the world had gone, and he alone was left to explore it. His feet itched to run about, his eyes burning to peek into cracks and corners.
    He padded down the passage to the entrance hall, afraid to make any noise that might break the spell. Though torches burned in the walls, and must have been lit by attendants, the place was empty. Now he stood and, for the first time, looked freely about.
    The windows far above were just beginning to glow with the day’s earliest light, and the staircase shone in the colored dawn that came pouring down. The bronze banisters glinted in his eyes, and he reached out for them. The metal was warm, though the rest of the air clung to night’s chill. The stone steps were worn