Page 2 of Aubade Rising
Dervla has extensive business interests across Trevesiga and so, while she is my sponsor and closest friend, I don’t have a monopoly on her time and attention.
“It will be worth it when it works. I’ll move a few things around; you should get the funding by the end of the week.” I smile gratefully, relieved that she’s taken the explosion and damage in her stride. She shrugs delicately and surveys the detritus littering the floor. “Although, I maintain this is not the best place to conduct these sorts of experiments. You got lucky today, but itjust takes one person to discover what you’re doing…”
She’s not wrong. My laboratory space isn’t exactly desirable. Athnavar Academy begrudgingly upgraded me after my last publication but before the explosion my predecessors’ ancient books and equipment cluttered the room. Now, tattered pages lie strewn across the floor and the old equipment is unsalvageable. With all of this cleared away, the space is still small and cramped. It’s not suitable for clandestine explosions either.
She gets to the point, checking her watch. “Is there anything I can do to make you consider that position in Pentargon?”
We’d put this to bed several times before, but she will not let it go. I should know by now that nothing stands in her way when she wants something. “No, nothing. Despite what I say to wind up the Principal.”
“I don’t mention it because of the funding. There are other benefits to taking up a position in the capital. Easier to conceal your work, more secure accommodation, better facilities and you’d be making it clear where your allegiance lies.” I observe her closely. This level of persistence is unusual, normally she trusts my judgement when it comes to the research part of our arrangement.
“And the drawbacks? More security means being watched, making it harder to achieve our project, unlimited funding comes with input and others’ ideas and perhaps I don’t have political aspirations.” Relocating to Pentargon sounds like punishment, constantly being observed and monitored, no autonomy or independence. And, with my family’s history with the city, it’s better avoided.
“I know it’s not what you want right now but I want you to seriously consider it. If you’re discovered here, I can’t protect you. Pentargon would give you more freedom than you know.” The thinnest hint of frustration starts to show through her tonenow. “I’m concerned for your safety.”
“Safety?” I say sharply, taking greater note of Dervla’s expression. “Why are you concerned about my safety?”
“There’s been more activity from the rebel groups since the assassination.” My stomach drops. Trevesiga was rocked when a small group of rebels penetrated the palace security and murdered the King. They were caught and severely punished but it seems that wasn’t enough of a deterrent for the others.
“They seek a way to make magic more accessible, to turn it into weapons against us. If they knew what we were working on…” She pauses, uncertain, tightening the leather straps of the falconry gauntlet she wears on her arm. “They’re rallying now. It’s only a matter of time before a mistake like tonight draws their attention. Or worse, attracts the Mordros.”
“What if I don’t care what the Mordros think?” I’ve never reacted well to being cornered. I force myself to remember that Dervla cares about me and snapping at her is not productive. I centre myself with a deep breath and rub my aching chest with my knuckles again.
She patiently watches me gather myself and smother my growing anger. I know what happens to people who threaten the Mordros and, despite my resistance to moving, a slow prickle travels down my arms, the hairs standing to attention.
“My answer is still no.”
She hides her disappointment well, covering the small deflation in her body with a nonchalant shrug as she makes for the door. I grimace, recognising she doesn’t consider this conversation finished, just adjourned.
“Get me an inventory of the damaged equipment by the morning and I’ll ensure it is replaced. And don’t leave the laboratory in this state again – anyone could have discovered it.”
Suitably chastised and shivering from the icy wind blowing through the empty panes, I survey the damage and resign myselfto a late night tidying and cataloguing. There’s not much I can do to hide the smashed windows but the rest I can tackle.
Chapter 2
Completing an inventory of the damage took a lot longer than I wanted and my shoulders and neck are aching by the time most of the debris is piled into a corner. Dervla was right to insist that the mess was cleaned up; my exhaustion made me sloppy and the mess could have easily been found and questions raised.
I retie my long ponytail ready for the windy walk home, thankfully clear of glass shards this time, when the earth begins to shake violently and all sound cuts out.
A pulse travels through my body and knocks me to the ground, vision blurring and ears ringing. My hands and knees are grazed and dripping blood from broken glass I’ve overlooked. Noise trickles in, but all I can decipher are screams and shouts of distress. The vast flagstones on the floor have cracked in half, deep grooves running under my hands and towards the door. Someone shakes my shoulder urgently, pulling me round to face them. Dervla has returned and her dark skin is ashen as she pulls me to my feet. Her mouth is grim and her hands are steady. She’s remarkably calm considering we’ve been attacked. Thick smoke creeps round the doorframe’s corner, curling towards us.
“We need to stay hidden.” She repeats it twice more and I realise, through the ringing in my ears, she’s waiting for my response. I manage a small nod before my vision fractures again and I lean on her shorter frame for support. She keeps a tight hold on my waist and pulls us out into the courtyard, away from the main entrance. As soon as I’m able to walk unsupported, she picks up the pace, leading me deeper into the older wing of the Academy, where the faculty work, along winding corridors I scarcely knew existed.
A few shell-shocked people brave the corridors too, stumbling around, all injured. Through the acrid stench of burning smoke, a cloying sweeter smell of burnt meat permeates and my stomach roils. Dust and mortar fall from the ceiling and my vision flickers with black spots. Through the shattered windows, I can see fire spreading from the buildings around us.
We don’t stop for anyone, avoiding eye contact and Dervla is walking faster and faster, almost running. We reach the bottom of a narrow flight of stairs and Dervla checks we are alone and looks at me with a sort of nervousness I haven’t seen on her face before dragging me into an unmarked office.
It’s empty and a thick layer of sticky dust grips my shoes to the floor. She strides across the room to the dark wooden panelling. I don’t see how she does it but a door opens and she gestures to me to go through. Confused and still dripping blood from my hands and knees, I venture through the doorway, into the total darkness and Dervla seals us in.
“You’ve channelled today?” she whispers fervently. “We’ll need your light.”
I don’t think to question her, even though using my magic in public is a capital offence, and summon a flash of light from my palm. Our faces are illuminated and before her pupils shrink and adjust, I catch a fleeting glimpse of fear in her brown eyes.
She looks at the flickering ball of light I’m holding. “We need to hurry.” It’s not clear whether the rush is because she doesn’t believe my magic will last or if she thinks there’s someone chasing us. I’m too afraid to ask.
She pushes me ahead to lead the way through the damp stone tunnel as it slopes gently downwards. We move in silence for no more than a few minutes before the tunnel opens into a small, underground quay. This must be an offshoot of the river that surrounds the city, as the water smells clean and fresh.
Dervla passes me, sinking her hands up to her elbows intothe flowing stream. I assume she’s channelling until I hear her muttering under her breath and moving her hands in a complicated series of movements. I realise she’s wielding magic.
