Chapter 20
Sir Droy was interested in Lenore. Everyone in the academy could see that by now; the only question was what made her so interesting. Was it a bid to get closer to her brother, since the two men were well known to have been estranged years ago? Was it her magic? She was talented, to be sure, but was it enough to attract the fascination of the foremost Warden of the first war?
For her part, Lenore couldn’t begin to guess. Droy never wanted to talk about anything personal. He seemed to only want to know about her theories on magic and criticize her technique. “You’re using your power too inefficiently. You’re focusing outside of your range. If you want to spread the illusion, focus on the stone and what YOU want to see. You’ll naturally project that to others. Incantation can only take you so far; you need to learn to focus your thoughts as much as your words.” The advice was useful; the trouble was, he always gave it to her in the most critical and rude tone possible in front of the entire class.
Lenore’s eyes would blaze and she’d decide that she would be better than he could ever imagine, just to spite him. She didn’t dare argue, however, even when she flatly disagreed with him.
At least, until the day when the students were learning about white opals, also known as memory opals. Sir Droy was watching from the back of the classroom as usual, his blind eyes seemingly staring at Lenore as always. The instructor was somewhat younger than most of the others in the academy, and she seemed nervous to have Droy watching her. She stumbled over her words as she explained, “The memories stored in white opals eventually degrade and will be lost, never to be retrieved. The safe storage time depends entirely on the power expended by the Warden using the opal. While others have suggested additional uses for white opals, such as retrieving memories from another person’s mind, there is as yet no evidence that any such use is practical. The rarity of white opals means that experimentation is highly risky, and attempts to use white opals for anything other than storage leads to them becoming inert, similar to the other five types of opals.”
Lenore raised her hand.
“Yes, Lenore?” The teacher seemed to be a little bit annoyed. She was probably worried about looking foolish in front of Sir Droy, Lenore thought ironically.
“If the storage time depends on the power expended, wouldn’t it be possible for a highly powerful made to potentially retrieve those supposedly degraded memories as well? I mean, there’s no proof the memories are actually lost. They’re just inaccessible, right?” Lenore pressed.
The teacher frowned. “Princess Lenore, there’s no point in raising theories that have no basis. This class is to teach about the accepted use of white opals.”
Droy scoffed audibly, and all eyes turned to him as the teacher reddened. “Did you have something you wished to say, sir?”
“I thought this was the premier Warden academy of Iridalys. What is the point of an academy that doesn’t even care to be curious about the potential uses of opals?” he sneered. “However ridiculous they may be.”
“It’s not ridiculous,” Lenore flared.
Droy raised an eyebrow. “No? Don’t you think such a thing would have been discovered already if it were really possible?”
“No,” Lenore said stubbornly, more determined now that he was disagreeing with her. “As Professor Hilderin said, white opals are rare. There hasn’t been a lot of experimentation. Besides, most Wardens wouldn’t like to admit that they’re just not powerful enough, would they? I just don’t see how the storage could degrade over time. An opal that’s been sitting in the right conditions for 500 years doesn’t look any different than one that’s been sitting for 10, and the materials themselves don’t degrade, so why would the memories?”
Professor Hilderin seemed to feel the class was getting out of hand. “Princess Lenore, would you prefer to be teaching today?” she snapped.
Droy said, “She could probably do as well as you could.”
The other students audibly drew in a sharp breath and stared in shock at Droy’s smug face. Lenore went white. The last thing she needed was Droy making all the teachers hate her, she thought miserably.
Then Droy went on, “Students should come to learn new things, not just the established order.” He reached into his pocket and tossed Lenore a small, smooth white opal. She barely managed to catch it, nearly overturning her chair. “Use that,” he ordered. “Not now, but outside of class. See what you can draw from it.”
“Sir, using an opal like that could come with unknown side effects,” the teacher protested.
Droy waved his hand. “Unlikely. White opals have no side effects except reactions to the memories themselves.”
That we know of, Lenore corrected internally, but she was thrilled with the chance to prove her theory. She said, “How long has this one been ‘degraded’?”
“About fifty years,” Droy said easily. “If you can pull memories from it, you’ll be among three people in the kingdom right now who can.”
Lenore decided she could forgive him for his rude corrections, since he said that.
The bell tolled for the next class, and Professor Hilderin was too intimidated to protest further. Lenore could feel everyone’s eyes on her as she hurried out, thrusting the opal into the pocket of her uniform. She didn’t glance in Parr’s direction. Why should she? He’d been avoiding her now for more than a week, and as far as she was concerned, their friendship was over. She didn’t like to admit that it still stung every time he looked away from her.
Parrel, meanwhile, had a new friend to deal with. An eager young student named Adrian had taken to following him around the school, constantly asking him questions, and asking for help with simple tasks.
Parr didn’t entirely mind. After all, Adrian reminded him a bit of his little brother, and at least being around him temporarily distracted Parr from the problem at hand.
That problem was Lord Hauser, who continued to write him letters demanding information. Parrel worded his replies as carefully as he could, making them brief. He hadn’t discovered anything, and Lenore didn’t trust him enough to share, he tried to say. But the threats and anger he received in exchange were enough to make him pale and increasingly draw into himself.
His instructors noticed it and thought perhaps he was being bullied. After all, he was one of the few students who were peasants. It would make sense if the elites treated him poorly. When they asked, Parr simply denied it and hoped that they would stop asking. Things had already escalated enough, and he didn’t know what would happen if they found out his patron was threatening him.
Parr tried to meet with Leonard to discuss the issue again, but the man seemed to be avoiding him studiously. So there was nothing Parr could do, and the difficult situation continued to weigh on him day after day.
Today after class, Parr left more slowly than the other students, dreading another letter delivery. Aiden stayed with him, chattering on about this and that. Then Aiden gushed, “Her ladyship is really remarkable, you know. They say she’s trying to get memories that have been degraded. Do you think she’ll be able to do it?”
“I wouldn’t know, but if anyone can, she will,” Parr said, a bit wistfully. It had been fun to challenge himself by competing with Lenore rather than standing aside and looking up at her accomplishments. But he’d found it hard to study properly, and now his grades were dropping as well, meaning that he wasn’t in all of her classes anymore. He’d get back on track once he figured a way out of this, he promised himself.
“I do wonder why she’s here at the academy. She could just become a Warden right now if the King really wanted her to. Oh, did you hear the latest about the king?” Aiden prattled on.
“I’d rather not-”
“He’s marrying Trista Amana!”
“That’s old news,” Parrel said dismissively.
“Well, they were engaged, but I’ve heard they set an official date now. Makes you wonder, though, considering what happened to her brother.”
Parrel felt uneasy as he saw the younger boy’s sharp blue eyes. He felt like Aiden was leading him somewhere, though he couldn’t imagine his motive. “What do you mean?” he said.
“After all, her brothers all died in the wars. Though David Amana’s death was the worst. They say King Illian disappeared that night for some reason. Do you think maybe he wasn’t able to stop assassins from getting to David and he was too upset to lead the armies that night? It led to an awful loss. I heard people say-”
“I don’t want to know any of this,” Parrel interrupted.
“I thought you would have known already,” Aiden said, a little too innocently.
Parrel’s heart sank. Aiden wasn’t like his little brother. Aiden was a spy. His stomach churning, Parr turned and left without a word as Aiden called after him, “Parrel, wait! Why are you leaving? I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to say anything wrong.”
Parr hid himself in a deserted nook of the library, trying to catch his breath. His chest was tight. He tried to remember everything he’d ever said to Aiden. Was there anything that could be used against him? For that matter, who did Aiden work for? It seemed like he was trying to spread rumors about Illian, but Hauser was looking for genuine information. So what would be the point of Hauser sending a spy to spread those rumors specifically to Parr? Unless he hoped Parr would ask Lenore directly and cause problems between Lenore and her brother.
That must be it. Hauser didn’t care about true information anymore. He simply wanted to hurt Illian in any way possible.
Parr hated Hauser with all his heart for using Aiden. He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around how devious the boy seemed despite being only 14 or so. Perhaps Hauser had something over Aiden as well, he decided. Yes, it must be that. Parr would try to help him, but he’d be careful about how he did it to avoid alerting Hauser.
The only way Parr knew to help was to talk to Leonard again. He sent a formal request for a meeting through the headmaster, and Leonard agreed, no doubt quite reluctantly.
There was a small conference room reserved for teachers and students to meet. Leonard entered first, clumping to his seat more noisily than necessary with a look of frustration on his face. Parr pulled the door shut and gave the room a quick glance to ensure there were no hiding spots. Fortunately, it was empty except for the polished wooden table and four chairs.
“What is all this about?” Leonard demanded irritably. “The instructors are starting to wonder what sort of spell I have over their students that you’re constantly asking to see me.”
“This is serious.” Parr sat down with his hands clasped in front of him. Leonard’s eyes looking past him rather than at him were rather unsettling, but he pressed on. “I think Lord Hauser sent someone to spy on me and try to spread rumors about the King.”
“You must think you’re a very important person to warrant someone spying on you,” Leonard remarked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe you’re just paranoid.”
“I’m not…I’m not being paranoid,” Parrel protested. In fact, it hadn’t even occured to him that he might have overreacted. After all, what evidence did he really have that Aiden was a spy?
Leonard heard the hesitation in his voice and raised an eyebrow slightly. “Hart, I’m a busy man.”
Parrel forced himself to seem confident. “Not particularly,” he said, “or you wouldn’t be hanging around here at the academy when you’re not an instructor or a lecturer at all.”
Leonard frowned angrily, but Parr hurried to say, “I don’t think I’m being paranoid, sir. Adrian only started coming to the academy recently, and I haven’t heard who his sponsor is. It’s like they’re keeping it secret. He latched onto me right away, and he’s started talking about Trista Amana and the king getting married, and then he mentioned David.”
Leonard started violently.
Parr continued, “It all comes back to him, doesn’t it, sir? David Amana died. Adrian said it was the same day the King disappeared mysteriously, which led to heavy losses on the battlefield. It wasn’t long after that your leg was injured. Isn’t that right, sir?” The boy fixed his eyes on Leonard’s face, trying to gauge his reaction.
Leonard didn’t try to hide his anger. “That’s none of your concern,” he said sharply.
“I agree, but it seems like everyone is trying to make it my concern. Don’t you think it’s odd that Adrian knew about any of that? I never even heard about the King disappearing that day. It’s true, isn’t it? The King had something to do with David’s death, and Hauser knows it,” Parr said quietly. “That’s why he brought him up that day.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Maybe not, but if Hauser has enough to start a serious rumor, it could end up very badly for the King, which will hurt Lenore and Trista as well. Lenore matters a lot to me.”
“You shouldn’t think too far above your station, boy,” Leonard snapped.
Parr winced and lowered his head before saying, “It’s not what you think, sir. We were – are – friends.”
“Someone of her social class and talent has nothing to gain with being a friend of yours, especially considering how you’ve simply given up on your studies over some nonsense rumors.” The words stung, particularly because there was an element of truth in them. Leonard stood up. “Mind your studies. You have talent. You could be a decent Warden if you’d learn how to handle your emotions and focus less on other people.”
As he moved toward the door, Parr said faintly, “But Sir Leonard, don’t you think she deserves to know?”
Leonard stopped with his hand on the knob. He kept his face turned away from Parr as he said, “Lenore?”
“Lady Trista. If she’s going to marry him, shouldn’t she know? She’s so young, sir, and she doesn’t have anyone left to look after her.”
Parr couldn’t see Leonard’s expression, but somehow he knew that the words hit home.
Leonard sighed. “It’s more complicated than you think. It’s better that she doesn’t know. Believe me. Just keep your head down and don’t worry about this. It’s time for me to take action against Hauser. These rumors mustn’t spread any further.”
Outside the door, Aiden turned away and flitted down the hallway silently. He was well-accustomed to moving like a wraith and eavesdropping on conversations, despite his young age. Although, he wasn’t as young as either Parr or the instructors thought he was.
Aiden went to the dorm and rapidly wrote a short letter. “Your majesty, it is as you suspected. I believe Hart presents a danger. He should be dealt with at your earliest possible convenience.” Aiden sealed the letter. He would disguise it in a package sent to his “parents,” who would forward it to the king. All in all, it was a satisfactory mission.
The only thing that was annoying about the whole situation was how Parrel seemed to have pegged Aiden as a spy quite easily. But after all, Aiden was used to spying on adults who didn’t give him a second’s thought and seemed to assume he was naturally stupid. It was an entirely different matter spying on someone almost his own age. “I’ll have to ask for a different placement next time,” he muttered as he went off to mail his letter.
When Illian received the letter several days later, he sat broodily in his empty throne room, long after the light had stopped streaming through the windows high above the balconies. A shadow covered his face.
Trista was very charming at supper. She’d encouraged him in the fact that he was trying to get more rest, and she told him she intended to make sure that he took care of himself. Illian had been gratified, but also frustrated. Why did she insist on showing him so much care and concern?
Of course, he could stop her any time he wished. All he had to do was treat her harshly and tell her to leave. So why didn’t he?
Illian rubbed his forehead wearily, wishing his throbbing headache would ease so he could think. It was time to make a decision.
“Too bad Hal isn’t around to deal with the problem,” he muttered.
He’d have to find another competent individual to do his bidding.
Perhaps that was for the best, though. There might be a better way to deal with Parr than to kill him. It shouldn’t be too hard to simply frighten the boy away. At the moment, that seemed to be the most reasonable course of action. Having decided, Illian put his plan into effect immediately. No sense in wasting time, after all.
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