The Armor of Light Read online

  There was no time to think of rumors right now. She had to see what she could do for DeMunth. She couldn’t just leave others to care for him. There was a bond between them, and though she didn’t understand it, she had to honor it. She’d gotten through to him before—maybe she could do it again.

  She gave Markis a squeeze, patted him on the head, then sprinted up to where DeMunth so adamantly refused to cross into the portal. Ezeker looked at her gratefully as she took the mute by the hand and looked into his eyes. She mindspoke again.

  “DeMunth! You’ve got to go through the portals if you want to get better. They won’t hurt you. They’re just like doors. Come on. I’ll walk through it with you. It’s going to be okay,” she said and pulled gently on his hands. He seemed beyond hearing, but his eyes locked on hers once again, and something connected between them. In the back of her mind, Ember wondered if it had anything to do with the white cord she’d seen stretching between them earlier.

  One step at a time, she pulled him toward the portal, turning around and taking both his hands. She walked backward through the portal and pulled him through. The portal zipped them at a frightening speed from one spot to another, and in the a single moment, they passed through.

  The stone was different here, muddy browns and grays with dingy light leading them to the next portal. Some of the children had obviously never been through a portal before, and had varying responses. Some were giddy, talking excitedly, and couldn’t wait to travel through the next one. Others were crying, and terrified to go through again.

  Ember, on the other hand, was slightly nauseated. DeMunth still followed her, though he seemed weaker than he had before, as if his strength were being sapped somehow. The sweating had stopped, but now he shivered as they stepped into the next portal. It was much longer than the first, and Ember thought she was going to pass out. As she tumbled out of the portal, she gasped for breath. DeMunth stepped forward woodenly, as if he were a reanimated corpse. His eyes still looked as if they burned from within, but the Armor of Light had completely faded.

  Ember broke eye contact with DeMunth long enough to seek out Ezeker, who quickly stepped to her side. “How many more portals?” she asked, gritting her teeth at the pressure DeMunth was putting on her fingers and the panic she fought with each step.

  “Only one. Can you make it that far? How can I help?” He asked, sounding concerned.

  “He seems to be getting worse with each portal, but I don’t know what you could do to help.”

  Ezeker nodded and stood on DeMunth’s other side as they passed through the portal. It was a good thing he did, for when they exited the final portal, DeMunth completely collapsed and landed right on top of Ember. At least she’d broken his fall enough that he hadn’t lost his teeth along with his tongue.

  Shad ran to her as DeMunth fell. Evidently he’d come to the academy ahead of the rest of the group. He helped roll DeMunth off of her. She was extremely grateful, as the weight of him was making it very hard to breathe, then a couple of guards reached down and lifted DeMunth. The guards, a man and a woman, threw DeMunth’s arms over their shoulders. His head lolled from side to side and his skin was cold and clammy when she touched it.

  They turned to take DeMunth away, when the male guard gestured toward a stone desk where the children were gathered. “Why don’t you just step over there to the registrar and get your uniform and room assignment. We’ll take care of your friend, no problem.”

  It wasn’t until they eased DeMunth onto a litter and carried him off, Ezeker and Shad at his side, that Ember was able to follow the guard’s instructions. She was torn between running off after them and doing as she was told, but decided she’d better follow protocol and get a room assignment. She stood in line behind all the little initiates, feeling awkward as the oldest one in the group. They were each handed a stack full of robes. Markis got a red robe with one yellow sleeve and the other orange. Other kids had solid colors, some had one color on the bodice and another on the sleeves. One girl had five colors with the tunic separated vertically into three colors, and the sleeves two other colors. It was almost dizzying.

  Ember’s turn came. The lady behind the counter looked up. “And you must be Ember Shandae,” she said, welcoming Ember like she was her granddaughter. Or like Ember imagined a grandmother would act, considering she’d never actually had one.

  Ember nodded to the woman, who went to the back of the closet and came out almost reverently with an armful of white tunics. “I’ve been waiting a long time to hand these to someone. Welcome, Ember. I hope to see many more of your kind in the coming years.”

  Ember was a little embarrassed and not sure what to say. She took the robes and stammered a thank you, then turned away, not sure where to go next. All the kids in her group looked at her with something akin to awe and whispered amongst themselves, pointing at Ember and moving out of her way as she tried to get past them. A teenage girl, not from Ember’s class, stepped forward and took her by the elbow. The rest of the littles from Ember’s class parted to let her by, and even though Ember didn’t know the girl, she knew immediately they would be great friends.

  Or so she thought, until the girl opened her mouth. Once they got around the corner and away from the crowd, the girl stopped and turned to face Ember. “Look, I know you don’t know me from the queen, but we’re roommates, so you’re stuck with me. I’m Lily. I’m a third-year student, and if I can pass my finals, I’ll make master in another year. Why didn’t you come here when you were younger? You’re going to be so far behind, you’ll be forty before you graduate. Come on, our room is this way. I’ve got the north side, you take the south. I’ll help you find your classes tomorrow, but then you’re on your own. Got it?”

  Ember was too stunned to do more than nod.

  “Good. Follow me, then.” Lily took off with a long, gangly stride that left Ember scrambling to keep up and wondering what in the world she was doing here.

  As Ember hung up her white tunics on her side of the closet, she noticed that Lily was one of the girls with many colors. She had six.

  Shad had told Ember a few days before that to have six colors was almost unheard of. Three or four was amazing, but six? It was almost as rare as the white. From the look of the robes, Lily’s primary colors were orange and red, but when Ember concentrated on the girl and looked, Lily’s brightest colors were purple first and red second, with swirls of every other color.

  Everything but white.

  Suddenly Ember understood why Lily was unhappy having her as a roommate. Until Ember showed up, Lily had been the best of the academy. What made it worse—Lily actually knew how to use her magic. Ember’s shoulders sagged. If Lily knew how useless Ember really was, she wouldn’t have been worried. What good was magic if you couldn’t use it?

  Everything Ember did was an accident. And she was back to the questions that had plagued her that morning. How was she supposed to learn white magic when there was no one around to teach her?

  As she climbed into bed in her new room at the mage academy, the place she had always dreamed of being, she was still no closer to enlightment and hoped some solutions would come with the start of a new day. If only her father would show up again, she might be able to get some answers, but what were the chances of finding a white hawk while buried in a cave?

  Longing for something she couldn’t quite name, Ember turned to the wall and tried not to cry herself to sleep.

  Chapter Seven

  Kayla exited the throne room and waited in the hallway for T’Kato and Sarali. Instead, she once again got Niefusu. “Thank ye for agreeing to fix the flooded rooms,” he said. “Mum and Da have asked me to escort ye about the palace and help ye clear out the most important spots. Would that be all right with ye?” He thrust out his elbow for her to take his arm. She hesitated for a moment. It seemed that every time they were alone, this prince did all in his power to kiss her. Did she really want to take that chance? But then there was the question of offending t
he king and queen. When she thought of it that way, there really wasn’t much of a choice.

  She refused his arm and instead gestured down the hall. “Lead the way, Prince Niefusu.” He seemed mildly disappointed in her gentle refusal, but he did as she asked and led her down to the far end of the hall, then spiraled up a rampway—evidently what the MerCats used instead of stairs—and down another hall on the second floor. All the rooms had round windows in the doors, and she could see the water that had filled each and every one of them.

  It was a bit overwhelming, she had to admit. “You want me to clear all of them?” she asked, disbelief in her tone, she was sure.

  He looked at her over his shoulder. “No, not all. The king and queen’s suite first, and then perhaps the library, if ye wouldn’t mind?”

  Sighing with relief, she followed the handsome prince down the hall and to the double doors at the end.

  He threw open the doors to a suite that was more magnificent than any Kayla had ever seen—but it was completely under water, and strangest of all, the water stood like a wall where it had butted against the doors. Kayla reached her arm into the water, just like she had in the waterways. It was eerie.

  “Why doesn’t it fall?” she asked, pulling her arm out and shaking it off.

  Niefusu shrugged. “We don’t know. All the flooded rooms be that way. As if the air in the hall be enough to keep the water standin’, but the pressure in the castle be not great enough for it.” He trailed his fingers across the surface. “One of the great mysteries of these last days.”

  “Last days?” Kayla asked. “What are you talking about?” She dug in her satchel for the Sapphire Flute and pulled it out.

  “The world is unraveling, lass. With no white magi to fix Rasann, she be falling apart. Haven’t ye noticed the volcanoes, the storms, heard the tales of the merpeople thrown onto beaches to drown on dry land? The earthshakes? No?” he asked as Kayla shook her head. “The end of the world, I be telling ye.”

  Kayla wanted to laugh, but he seemed so serious. Could he actually be right?

  She shook her head. No. It was impossible. She refused to believe it, but rather than offend the prince, she got to work.

  Putting the flute to her lips, she blew a single note. Ripples spread across the surface of the water. It was quite beautiful to see. She moved to another note, the acoustics in the hall hanging on to the first so she harmonized with herself. The water began to shake like jelly, and then it collapsed, flooding the hallway. Kayla didn’t know what she’d done wrong, but in a panic, she froze the water, creating a wall of ice to block the flood. Unfortunately, she forgot that she and Niefusu were standing in it, and froze their feet to the floor, ankle-deep.

  Kayla reddened as Niefusu looked down, then at her, and began to laugh. She focused the flute to thaw the water just around them, then stepped back and tried to think what to do. She couldn’t just release the water, which is what she’d been thinking when the flood started. She had to push it back out into the sea, but she wasn’t sure how to do that.

  She stepped closer to the wall and searched the room through the ice. The room had two windows looking out into the water. If she could get the water to leave through those, she could clear the room.

  “Let’s try this again,” she said, more to herself than to the prince. He nodded and stifled his chuckles.

  With the flute at her mouth, she concentrated on what she wanted the water to do. She pictured it very clearly in her mind—the ice melting, the water pushing inward toward the wall and flowing out the windows. She took a breath and blew her first note, high and powerful, putting her intent into the sound.

  Everything went just as she imagined it, with one small exception.

  She forgot the windows were closed.

  The ice in front of her melted, the water pushed toward the back wall, uncovering dripping cabinets and a sopping bed. It seemed to condense somehow against the back wall, and then the windows exploded, shattering outward into the sea. The water cleared quickly after that, and Kayla sealed the gaping holes with ice. It would have to do for now. Next time she’d have to remember to open the windows first, but at least now she knew what she was doing.

  As an extra thank you for the king and queen’s kindness, she continued to play, sucking the water out of their clothes, their mattress, their blankets, and furniture—everything had all the water pulled from it until it was as dry as if it had hung on a clothesline.

  Satisfied with her work, she turned to Niefusu. His jaw hung open and his eyebrows almost reached his hair. “How did you—but—you just—” He couldn’t seem to finish a sentence. Now it was Kayla’s turn to laugh.

  She patted him on the cheek as she walked out the door. “Magic, my dear boy. It’s simply magic.”

  He seemed to take that statement very seriously, and it was all she could do not to bend over in laughter. Instead she asked, “And where would I find the library?”

  He led her down another hallway she hadn’t noticed before, one that went perpendicular to his parents’ bedroom, and at the end he opened the doors to a huge library and looked inside, his face morose. “It be killing me to see all me books waterlogged. Think ye can do the same here as ye did before? I’d appreciate it ever much.”

  Kayla nodded, though she wasn’t sure. This was going to be a much bigger job. Remembering her previous mistake, she asked, “Are there any windows in the room?”

  He nodded.

  “Do they open?”

  He nodded again.

  “Would you mind swimming in there and opening every window you can find?” she asked, hoping he would say yes.

  He stepped close and took her hand. “Are ye sure ye wouldn’t like to join me? I can make an air bubble for ye,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

  She pulled her hand from his. She would not let him kiss her again, but she couldn’t be rude.

  “No, thank you. I’ve had enough water for the day,” she said instead.

  Niefusu chuckled and stepped into the water. No theatrics or showing off. He just stepped forward, then swam up to the top, toward the ceiling, where round windows lined the entire room. It took him a good ten minutes to get them all open, but eventually he swam back to the bottom and stepped through the doorway, then shook himself.

  Kayla got soaked whether she wanted to or not. Niefusu’s smile was so infectious that instead of being angry, Kayla found herself laughing, and had a hard time stopping in order to play the flute.

  With only an occasional hiccup and snicker, she played the flute and pushed the water out the windows like she had before. It was a large room, so it took longer, but to save time, she pulled the water from the books as each section cleared, adding it to the mass that surged outside. Finally, the room was done, the books barely damp, and Kayla exhausted and starving. She let the flute fall to her side, her arms suddenly rubbery. It was all she could do to keep standing.

  In an instant, Niefusu was at her side, his arm around her, supporting her. “Whoa, lass. That was a bit too much for ye, wasn’t it? What can I do to help?” He seemed genuine.

  She did not want to like this guy—she was engaged, after all—but he made it so very hard.

  “The case for the flute.” He reached around her and pulled it out of her bag, then held it open while she placed the flute within its safety. Then he practically carried her to a chair in the center of the room she’d just cleared and made her sit. He pulled up an ottoman and held her hands, watching her face with a concerned look.

  It became embarrassing after a while. She pulled her hands away and tried to stand. “I’m fine, now. Thank you.” That’s what she meant, but her body didn’t agree, and flopped back down in the chair before she could get her legs under her.

  “Ye most certainly are not fine.” Niefusu’s voice was a bit stern. “Ye need some warm food in ye and a good rest. Here.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her onto her wobbly legs, then bent over and scooped her up as if she weighed
nothing. “I’ll get ye to the kitchens. We’ll take care of ye.”

  Kayla objected, but Niefusu wouldn’t listen, and she gave up as she caught the scent of something delicious wafting down the halls. “How do you cook down here?”

  He chuckled. “Building a fire isn’t impossible, though we don’t do it much. Mostly we use the hotpots.” He wound down the spiral ramp and walked through the hallway they’d first entered.

  “Hotpots. Aren’t those what your parents said were overheating and boiling people alive in their homes?” she asked, alarmed.

  Niefusu was solemn when she expected laughter. “Yes, they be.”

  “And you still use them?” She was astonished.

  “What choice do we have?”

  He was right. Under the water, what choice did they have, really? It was either use what they had, or eat cold and raw food all the time. But still, they were taking a chance.

  When they got to the kitchens, Kayla put her hand on the flute in her bag for comfort and looked at the hotpot. It looked like a cauldron of stone grown from the seabed. It had an orange glow about it and was filled with bubbling water.

  She wished she could see below it, down into the heated part to see if it was in danger of exploding, and as quickly as she thought it, she felt the power of the flute surge through her hand. Her mind dove down to a vein of magma that ran under the ocean floor. She could see where the heat had surfaced through cracks in the ground like miniature volcanoes. There was a fissure just below this hotpot too, and though it was not in danger of erupting today, it would in the near future if something wasn’t done.

  Kayla wanted to help, but she had no idea what to do, so she did the only thing she could.

  She asked the flute.

  The answer came in a tumble of information pouring into her mind like a downpour. It was a flood that came so fast it was hard to interpret. She tried, but it was useless. Finally she told the flute to use her and just fix the thing.