First Apprentice

Chapter 17 Part 1

Eight hours, nineteen minutes – the fourth-longest uninterrupted summon on record. Two of the Seven and two apprentices with magical exhaustion so severe the healers forced them into a coma. Fifty-three confirmed cases of aura poisoning, including the third apprentice, with hundreds more expected.

Sixteen deaths reported; four in the Well and twelve on the surface. Final death toll unknown.

All for a temporary repair that wouldn't last six months. It was too steep a price.

Clutching a mug of restorative tea to my chest, I pressed my shoulders deeper into the back of Terry's office couch – a drab canvas monstrosity likely picked for its ability to hide dirt and fit Terry's tall frame. I studiously ignored the heat flooding my body when my shoulder brushed Joel's arm.

On my other side, Uncle Manfred dug his fingers into my left knee. I glanced at him. His flesh hung off his bones as if he'd lost half his body weight in two days. Dark circles lined his eyes like kohl. My vision flickered back to auras. His was an exhausted gray with no trace of his usual robin's egg blue. His clan markers were barely visible white blips.

I didn't know when Uncle Manfred cut off my magic. One moment I was feeding my magic to Selim. The next I woke up propped on the couch in Terry's office with runes written in Uncle Manfred's blood drying on my throat.

I knew why though. I thralled. Saar and I both did.

At some point during the sealing, we both lost ourselves in the magic. The push and pull of energies between the Central Keystone and myself hypnotized me. Add in the sheer relief from no longer having more magic than my body could handle, it was no wonder I lost time. Eight hours, nine minutes worth to be exact. Saar didn't have that excuse.

Water dribbled down my fingertips as I scrubbed the last piece of Uncle Manfred's seal off with a wet handkerchief. I tossed it to Saar. Within seconds, he'd wiped away all traces of Terry's matching seal.

Fire roiled off his fingertips. It licked up his arms as the handkerchief hissed then lit, turning to ash.

Terry growled, a deep sound like a wave rolling into the shore. "Not inside."

"Because doing that outside where anyone might see would be less suspicious. Until we all undergo the proper cleansing rituals, our magical signatures will linger on everything we touch."

Papers fluttered to the floor when Terry's fist slammed against his desk. "I do not need another lecture!"

Uncle Manfred pressed against the couch and Joel slid an arm around my shoulders and tense as if waiting for an attack. Frost crept across the carpet and shattered when it touched Saar's feet.

Saar stilled, but the carpet didn't freeze solid or burst into flames. A testament to his control, I wondered, or the silent disapproval of an elder. "Every clan knows my magical signature," Saar said. "Ten-year-olds learn yours in school! Right now, we can convince the clan the flames came from the two of us and the black belongs to the Well. One item contaminated with a known magical signature and hers and your whole ruse falls apart. You know the clan's spies search your trash, Terry."

"Do not speak to me of spies. How many times have you visited? A dozen? Two? Not one word about your gate's true condition!"

Fury rolled off Saar in waves. Chest heaving, he stalked towards Terry's desk. He stopped in front of it and grabbed the lip. The oak top sparked as it repelled his claws, protecting it from scratches. "I told you the clan grows restless and that the Dracon Gate's evaluation schedule is just a suggestion. I did everything short of saying she needs fresh souls and a new seal or she will fall! Now, we've risked breaching two keystones for nothing!"

Terry bared his fangs, but Saar spun on his heel and paced back to the closed door. "People died during that sealing," Saar said. "Rather than honor their sacrifices, you choose to uphold my baby sister's thrice-cursed writ."

And twelve people died because I chose to help the Dracon Gate. Twelve people that I'd never met and now never would. And Selim didn't care.

All he cared about was me passing his stupid test and fulfilling his duty regardless of the price. The deaths were on my head, not Selim's. Had he had the opportunity, he would have consumed their souls before they passed on. I couldn't prove he didn't.

"It exists for a reason," Terry said in a measured tone. As if acting reasonable would appease Saar, or anyone else involved in this debacle, including me. "After the Central Keystone incident," meaning its unplanned creation, "all the clans agreed."

"Do not talk about such matters as if you were there, Terry. Every person involved from First Apprentice Selim-dae down volunteered." Interesting that Saar accorded Selim a title, but not Terry. "Sketches of their bodies became convenient propaganda for both sides. The writ is baseless. You know it as well as I do."

"Dozens of treaties cite the writ, including our alliances. I understand why you're upset, but I will not risk isolating the Border Guard from our allies."

Beside me, Joel snorted and nudged me with his elbow. "Wrong thing to say to someone who survived one of the wars," he whispered in my ear.

Having witnessed similar blowups between Grandfather and both Uncle Manfred and Endellion, I nodded in agreement.

"You understand nothing, boy. You were never subjected to the Council's seals. First, because the Shedu claimed you. Then Asha asked me to protect you. I did because my great niece cared for you. Even though she didn't love you at the time, Asha cared. She didn't want you subjected to the pain every dae in my family endured. Melantha nullifies my seal. It's a condition of my service. If she falls," Saar trailed off.

"We shuffle the gates and move another into her position. Why are you so afraid? What does that seal do that has you and Donovan both concerned? You claim we're family. Act like it. Tell me what I need to know."

"I can't. That should be answer enough."

"Then who can?"