Voice of Power (The Spoken Mage Book 1) Page 7

  “Is it better if I don’t look?” I asked Coralie in a whisper.

  She grimaced. “Probably. But don’t worry. They’ll all get used to you eventually.”

  I frowned. If I was around long enough for that. Lorcan had said I belonged here—but for how long? I had learned he was definitely the Head of the Academy, which meant he was very important indeed, with a seat on the Mage Council. But he was only one head on a council of ten. And that was without considering the royal family themselves.

  The prince had made it clear how they felt, and it didn’t seem to bode well for me. I once again fought the urge to look across at the neighboring table where Lucas sat. His eyes no longer followed me like they had the day before, but still I found myself aware of his presence at all times.

  Coralie shot me a look, and I could see all the questions lurking in her eyes, straining to break free. She had been more than kind to me, and I wanted to give her permission to ask them, but I held off. I had too few answers myself.

  All too soon, Coralie was tugging me back out of the dining hall.

  “Quick, the bell will ring any second.”

  We rushed down the corridor and barreled into a room, sliding into a double desk just as the second bell rang. Coralie breathed a sigh of relief, and then fixed her attention on the front of the room, her back straight. I remembered her saying earlier in the morning how much she preferred afternoon composition classes.

  I hadn’t absorbed anything in our mad dash, so I took a moment to look around now. The room had several large windows which spilled light into the spacious interior. Four rows, each containing four double desks, faced the front of the room, but only the first two rows were occupied. Coralie and I shared a desk, as did four other pairs of students, only Weston and the prince sitting alone.

  Much to my dismay, the prince had the outside desk on the second row which put him next to us. I felt his eyes boring into me, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing that I’d noticed. Instead I examined the other trainees.

  In the front row, the anxious-looking girl who had distracted Coralie sat beside a tall, elegant girl who held herself as if she sat alone. The striking contrast held my attention, and Coralie leaned over to whisper in my ear.

  “They do look funny next to each other, don’t they? Although I shouldn’t laugh. Poor Araminta. I’m sure sitting next to Dariela only makes her even more terrified.”

  Ah. So the anxious girl was Araminta—the weak one from a minor family like Coralie’s. The name Dariela I didn’t recognize, however.

  “Dariela is an Ellington,” Coralie said without my having to ask. “I know it’s still early days, but if you ask me she’s going to lead the class.” She grinned. “Weston will hate that—a mighty Stantorn being outshone by an Ellington.”

  I nodded as if I knew what she was talking about when in fact I had no idea. I might know the names of the four great mage families, but that didn’t mean I knew the subtleties of the dynamics between them.

  Coralie leaned in closer to whisper again, but a sharp throat clearing from the front of the room made her straighten and assume a serious posture. She might like this class, but I could tell the instructor made her slightly nervous. And I could see why.

  He looked around at us all with an angry expression, as if we were an inconvenience on his day. And I was either imagining it, or his eyes lingered extra long on me. He was certainly looking at me when he spoke.

  “I am Instructor Redmond of Stantorn. I teach composition.”

  I nodded and tried to look studious. His voice suggested that he was only bothering with a full introduction because he was confident that I was utterly inept. And sadly, I didn’t like my chances of convincing him otherwise despite my having been head of my class in the Kingslee school.

  But the Kingslee school only taught students up to ten years old. There we had learned our numbers and what mental arithmetic we were each capable of. We had studied geography—using maps full of symbols rather than words—and learned the history and laws of Ardann by rote. The teacher hadn’t needed to teach us the simple system of symbols used to mark signs and marketplaces, those we had already learned from our parents.

  Naturally we were not taught anything of reading, writing, or magical composition.

  Redmond’s gaze swept over the rest of the class. “We have done enough theory now, it is time for you all to make your first attempts at composing a magical working. Naturally we will begin with the enclosing words. We will then produce a parchment that may be used for regular writing. As I have previously explained, this is merely an expansion on the enclosing words.”

  This time his eyes lingered on Araminta instead of me. “And I expect this to be well within all of your capacities.” His tone suggested he believed no such thing.

  Redmond moved between the desks handing out a single sheet of parchment to each student. When he reached our desk, I hesitated, but the expression on his face made me snatch one in silence. I placed it down in front of me and stared at the words that filled it. Words. Sharp, curving, black letters. I had never been given the opportunity to look my fill at them before, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

  A sound from the desk beside me—half cough, half choke—made my eyes swing around without thinking. I met the prince’s gaze. He looked from me to the sheet in front of me and then slowly shook his head. I could feel the flush rising across my face, and I quickly turned away from him, angling myself toward Coralie.

  She had taken a pen and blank parchment from the small supply between us and was staring down at it. Her fist gripped the pen so hard her knuckles had turned white. For a moment the sight reassured me, until I remembered that my problems with this class went far beyond some natural nerves.

  I watched with fascination as she lowered the pen to the paper and made several strokes in quick succession. Beneath her tip, words began to form, crossing the page from left to right. Only once did she glance back at the sheet we had been handed—just before finishing her words with a large dot, executed with a flourish. For a second her pen hovered there, above the page, and then she leaned back with a satisfied sigh.

  I glanced between her words and the sheet in front of me. Then back again. The shape of her letters was slightly different, but I thought her first line matched the one we had been given. Not that I had any idea what it said.

  “Congratulations, Coralie,” said an unimpressed voice behind us. “You have made a start.”

  We both looked up at Instructor Redmond. When neither of us moved, he raised both eyebrows.

  “I believe there was more to the exercise.”

  She gulped, nodded, and bent her head over her parchment. Redmond turned to me.

  “Is there a problem, Elena of Kingslee?”

  I wanted to say, Yes. All of the other trainees have had days of theory before this, and you haven’t bothered to explain anything to me.

  But I swallowed the words. He was obviously well aware of that, and I suspected he was well aware that no amount of explanation would help me. For the hundredth time, I reminded myself not to blurt out my thoughts in this place.

  Instead I took a deep breath and looked down at the desk. “I can’t read this, Sir. And I can’t write either. I was never taught how.”

  A slight movement made me glance to the side. I expected to see disgust and contempt on the prince’s face, but instead he looked swiftly away, as if embarrassed to be caught showing interest at all.

  “I see,” said Redmond, drawing out the words. “In that case you have no place in this class. As I have informed Lorcan.”

  I bit my tongue and didn’t move. All of the class had fallen silent now, and many were openly staring at me. I wanted to lash out at them all—it wasn’t my fault I couldn’t read or write—but I could only imagine how unhelpful that would be.

  Redmond gave an exaggerated sigh. “You have no place here until you can read and write. You may seek tuition from Jocasta in the library. Tell h
er Redmond sent you.” A slight change in inflection hinted that he enjoyed palming me off to another instructor, and this one in particular. Clearly he felt no great affection toward her.

  I glanced sideways at Coralie and remembered she had mentioned a Jocasta earlier in the day. The only Cygnet to ever gain as high a rank as Academy Instructor, or something like that. Which might explain Redmond’s delight in sending me to her.

  Coralie moved as if she meant to accompany me, but Redmond bent such a forbidding glare on her that she settled back into her seat with an apologetic grimace at me. I shrugged and gave her a tight smile before hurrying from the room.

  As soon as the door closed behind me, I took a deep, steadying breath, free from the weight of so many disapproving eyes. I just wished I knew where to find the library.

  I wandered down the corridor and then the stairs, wondering if I was breaking any sort of rules by doing so. I certainly couldn’t see any other white robes meandering around. But a defiant spark had lit inside me. Everyone kept telling me that I didn’t belong here, and they were right. I was behind in every measure. But only an accident of birth was responsible for that.

  I was no less intelligent, no weaker than any of them. And if they thought I meant to run away with my tail between my legs, they were wrong. If I was to be granted the miraculous ability to learn to read and write, I meant to grasp it with both hands. I walked past a door that was slightly ajar, the view inside familiar. I stopped and peered into Lorcan’s waiting room.

  The sight was sobering. I wasn’t here because I refused to run away. I was here because I had no other choice. And I had no idea how long I would be permitted to remain. I had no choice in that either.

  I straightened. But I did have one choice. I could choose what to do while I was here. And I intended to learn. I intended to learn as much as I possibly could until either they dragged me forcibly away, or I turned eighteen and enlisted in the army.

  Damon pulled the door all the way open and stepped out into the corridor, giving me an amused look.

  “Shouldn’t you be in class?”

  I had assumed from his demeanor the day before that he had no idea of my background. But word must have reached him by now, and it seemed to have made no difference to his attitude toward me.

  “I’m looking for the library. Could you direct me?”

  He smiled. “I’ll do one better and show you myself. Didn’t I tell you if you needed anything to come to me? You’ll never find old Damon at a loss.” He chuckled. “Not that finding the library is exactly testing my abilities.”

  “That’s all I need for now,” I said. Well, that and a new pedigree along with a lifetime of training. But there are some things no one can do.

  Thoughts of the family I did have brought a tightening around my chest, and I pushed them away. My family would tell me to seize this opportunity with both hands, I knew they would. Right after they told me to keep my head down and keep us all safe. If only that were possible.

  Damon chatted cheerfully about the weather and classes and the students, but I hardly heard him until he stopped in front of a set of double doors and gestured toward them with a flourish.

  “The library, as promised.”

  I smiled. “Thank you, Damon.”

  “Any time, Elena. Any time.”

  I pushed the doors open and stepped through, into a place I had never even dreamed existed.

  Chapter 8

  The room itself was larger than any I had ever seen. Stretching up two stories, it expanded away from me in every direction. A large, curved desk stood directly in front of me, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from the shelves behind it. They marched up and down the room in straight lines, taking up the majority of the space. Only around the edge of the room, in a giant ring, had the space been left bare of shelves, filled instead with scattered desks and chairs.

  And then on the walls themselves, more shelves. These ones reached up the full two levels, although the upper shelves must surely be for show. No one could access them safely.

  But none of this was what held me mesmerized. It was the contents of the shelves which I couldn’t fathom. Endless books and scrolls stretching out in every direction. I had been amazed by Lorcan’s study, but it was a drop in the ocean compared to this. How was it possible that so much writing could exist in the world? How had the entire place not gone up in smoke long ago?

  “Can I help you?”

  The voice startled me enough that I looked away from all the books and at the short, thin woman behind the desk. She had gray hair, but the smoothness of her face and brilliance of her eyes suggested she had gone gray young rather than from any great age.

  “Trainees—even first years—are not permitted to wander around during class time.” She drummed her fingers on the desk. “We don’t see a lot of first years in the library at all.”

  I shook my head, still struck dumb. I couldn’t imagine why not. I knew I never wanted to leave this place now that I had found it.

  Her face softened as she watched me dart another glance at the books. “It is rather impressive, isn’t it? Larger even than the palace library. Only the University has a more expansive collection.”

  I blinked. There were two more such places? And all within easy reach of this building? The thought was almost incomprehensible.

  The woman frowned at me. “I’ll admit I’ve never paid much attention to the faces of the youngsters, not until they turn up at the Academy, at any rate. But yours I definitely don’t recognize. I’m Jocasta, assistant head of the library.”

  Her mouth turned down sharply. “Don’t tell me you’re the common girl Lorcan has insisted on admitting?”

  I opened my mouth, but she held up a hand to forestall me. “Of course you are. I don’t get involved with all of the maneuvering and posturing—one of the advantages of coming from a minor family—so I have no stake in that game. But I do want to know why you’re here, disturbing my library. I have a suspicion I know the reason, and I don’t like it one bit.”

  “Redmond sent me.”

  “You can’t read, I suppose,” she said, before I could go on. “It stands to reason. If you could, the Grays would have sniffed you out long ago and made short work of you.” She sighed. “And naturally the mighty Redmond wouldn’t stoop to teach such a thing. Although I suppose it must be taught if you’re to do any studying. And I imagine they’re all eager to see what happens when you try a normal composition. I just hope they aren’t expecting it to be any time soon. These things take time, you know. Especially if control is their aim, and I can only imagine it’s their first priority.”

  I stared at her. Lorcan had said something about control, and I supposed it made sense. If I could work magic by speaking, we were all in danger until I learned how to control it. And this was the place where mages learned that skill. Of course, my problem seemed to be accessing the power rather than flaming out—something for which I could only be grateful—but the risk still remained.

  “I’ll do my best,” I said, unsure what else to say.

  She regarded me for a steady moment and then sighed. “There’s a small study room we can use over there.” She gestured to my right. “Wait for me inside.”

  I found the door she meant easily enough and took a seat at the single large desk. Six chairs sat in a circle around it, but otherwise the stone room was empty and plain. It didn’t even have a window. No distractions.

  I waited for several minutes until I heard Jocasta’s voice mingled with several others. I caught my name. Slipping over to the door, I peeked around, listening intently.

  “I’m not sure how she’s expected to make any progress if she’s not to be left alone to study.” Jocasta sounded put out.

  “The question of whether or not she should be permitted to study has not been settled.” The angry man in the gold robe looked unfamiliar.

  Lorcan, standing next to him, cleared his throat. “I believe the matter of magical training continues to resid
e with the Royal Academy of the Written Word and its head. Not with the Royal Guard, General Thaddeus. I find myself somewhat surprised to see you here. Lennox and Phyllida I expected, but you…”

  The general drew himself up. “May I remind you that this building rests only the shortest distance from the royal palace. And that a member of the royal family currently resides within your halls. I assure you that any potential threat is a matter for the Head of the Royal Guard.”

  I bit down on the inside of my cheek. I should have remembered what the gold robe meant. Only mage officers of the Royal Guard wore them, the color matching the gold and red uniforms of the guards themselves. And this wasn’t just any officer, but the head himself. Only the heads—past and present—of the Royal Guard and Armed Forces carried the rank of general. And even I knew that the Armed Forces were led by General Griffith of Devoras. If only so that I could curse his name along with the rest of Kingslee.

  Jocasta glanced my way, and I hurriedly pulled back.

  “If the testing must be done now, then let us get to it without delay,” she said.

  “Certainly,” said Lorcan. “Any concerns of the general’s must be immediately laid to rest.”

  I hurried back to my seat before Jocasta poked her head in and gestured for me to emerge.

  “We can’t start right away, after all. A great many important people have shown up demanding answers, so it seems you’re to be tested before we begin.” She offered no explanation for what that might mean, and I resisted the urge to wipe my sweaty palms on my clean robe. What sort of testing, exactly?

  Lorcan nodded to me and led me out of the library and back into the corridor. General Thaddeus had already disappeared. Lorcan, Jocasta, and I crossed a short distance before entering yet another room. This one was a similar size to the composition classroom, although without the desks. Chairs lined the walls, however, and a number of them had already been taken, the room awash with different colored robes.

  Lorcan nodded his head at the gathered mages.