Tempests and Slaughter. Tamora Pierce

be cut down, just like Father—’ His voice was rising.

      Chioké deftly pulled the cork that plugged the flask and poured a small measure of liquid into the cup. Arram could see the liquid shining brightly in the journey from bottle to cup and in the cup itself. Chioké offered the shimmering vessel to Ozorne. ‘Drink, Your Highness,’ he told Ozorne. ‘All will be well.’

      ‘You aren’t bespelling him, are you?’ Arram asked, despite his own caution around masters. ‘We aren’t supposed to take any cantrip unless given by the healers.’

      ‘You dare.’ There was danger in Chioké’s voice. ‘Just because you have dazzled a handful of soppish mages does not mean I will permit you to question me!’

      Varice covered Arram’s mouth with her hand. ‘No, Master, please, he doesn’t understand! Please don’t be angry!’ she pleaded.

      ‘Then get him away from here and explain, before I teach him the respect he owes a master who will not coddle him!’ Chioké ordered.

      Arram protested, but Varice dug both hands into his arm. That was when he discovered that her beautiful fingernails were not only for decoration. Wincing, he let her tow him out into the corridor. ‘But my clothes,’ he protested. ‘Proper clothes … And he isn’t supposed to … mmph!’

      She had clapped a hand over his mouth. ‘Will you be silent and let me explain?’ she demanded. ‘My goodness, Arram, but you do clack on sometimes! Master Chioké is Ozorne’s personal master.’

      Arram peeled her hand away from his face. ‘But it’s only the ones that show great promise who get a personal master,’ he reminded her. ‘And that only in their last years at the Upper Academy.’

      Varice sighed and leaned against the wall. ‘Ozorne is different. His mother and the emperor weren’t going to let him return here at all after his father …’

      Arram nodded. She meant after his father had died.

      ‘Master Chioké stepped in and said he would be Ozorne’s personal master, even though he’s too young. He’s doing it for Ozorne’s family.’

      Arram scratched his head. ‘But he’s a fire mage, not a healer.’

      Varice shrugged. ‘I suppose he got the medicine from healers, or Ozorne’s mother. Take my word, those two treat Ozorne like gold.’

      Arram looked at his door. ‘So now what do I do?’

      ‘You take these clean clothes.’ The housekeeper, Irafa, stood in her open doorway. She offered a set of his clothing to him. How long had she been there, listening? Arram thought, horrified.

      ‘Silly, she has to know about Ozorne, with him in her care,’ Varice said, guessing what Arram thought. She asked Irafa, ‘May he change in your room? I don’t believe Master Chioké wants to be interrupted.’

      Irafa waved Arram into her quarters and closed the door behind him. When he returned, he found her talking with Varice. As soon as Arram handed his dreadful clothes to the beckoning Irafa, Varice said, ‘There’s a glassblower down the way who makes all kinds of things you wouldn’t expect. Do you want to go see? He’s under the arcade outside the gates, so we won’t get wet if we wear hats and cloaks.’

      They returned from a fine afternoon of shop visiting and talk to take an early supper. Then, carefully, they looked in on Ozorne. Chioké was still present, reading in Ozorne’s chair, when they entered the room.

      ‘Very good,’ Chioké said, getting to his feet. ‘Irafa told me you were out. I want you both to know that he will sleep another day, maybe two. He has a cup and water beside his bed, as well as fruit and bread should he get hungry.’ He turned back and blew out the candle he’d been using. ‘However, I doubt he will wake. Send a messenger for me if you are here when he does. I am in good hopes that the medicine will do the trick in restoring his normal state of mind.’ He nodded at them, gathered his things, and left without bothering to close the door.

      They both looked in at Ozorne, who was once again a lump of blankets and pillows. Varice tiptoed over and rearranged the pile so her friend’s nose poked into the open air. Then she turned to Arram and shrugged. ‘He’s the master,’ she said with resignation. ‘I suppose it’s just you and me for breakfast for a while, then.’ She waved and left Arram, closing the door behind her.

      Two days later they were surprised at supper by a cheery Ozorne. ‘It’s still raining,’ he announced as if he hadn’t been dark and gloomy for weeks. ‘Anyone want to race paper boats down the corridors?’

      Arram and Varice both sighed in relief. Arram never remembered to ask Varice if she had seen the glow in Chioké’s medicine.

      THE IMPERIAL UNIVERSITY OF CARTHAK

       The School for Mages

      The Lower Academy for Youthful Mages

      SCHEDULE OF STUDY, SUMMER TERM, 436 H.E.

      Student: Arram Draper

      Learning Level: Semi-Independent

      Breakfast – Third Morning Bell

      Morning Classes

      Gems and Stones

      Four-Legged Animals: Anatomy

      Language: Ergwae

      Lunch – Noon Bell

      Afternoon Classes

      Protective Circles – Cosmas – Ozorne & Varice

      Illusions: Objects – Dagani – Ozorne & Varice

      Basic Spellcraft

      Monkey, Orangutan, and Gorilla: Anatomy

      Supper – Seventh Afternoon Bell

      Extra Study at Need

       CHAPTER 5

       June 1–4, 436

      Students were rejoicing in the lazy week between the spring and summer sessions when Arram was summoned to Master Cosmas’s office. He went nervously, wondering what he might have done.

      Cosmas was smiling when his assistant ushered the boy into the master’s large office. He waved Arram to a seat and surprised the boy by taking a chair next to him.

      ‘Well,’ the master said cheerfully, ‘you lived to the summer term. That wasn’t so bad, was it?’

      Arram turned possible replies over in his head. He rejected complaints about long hours of study and having to give up expeditions into town. Finally he said, ‘I like the more complicated magics, sir.’

      Cosmas nodded. ‘It’s a very good thing we are pursuing this course of study with you, then,’ he said gravely. ‘I know it’s a great deal of work. It leads to more difficult courses in the Upper Academy, too. Still, they will keep that busy mind of yours happy, as they will those of Ozorne and Varice. You three won’t be bored. Exhausted, but never bored.’ He smiled cheerfully at Arram, who found that he was smiling back.

      ‘Now,’ Cosmas went on, reaching for a document and an apparently heavy pouch that were on the corner of his desk, ‘I have had correspondence with your mother and grandfather over the winter, through the Council of Mages in Tyra. We have come to a different arrangement with them as regards your education.’

      ‘Sir?’ Arram was puzzled.

      ‘You see, it is impossible for us to educate you properly, as your talents demand, while asking for varying amounts of fees from your family to cover materials and books, depending on what you must study in the coming terms,’ Cosmas explained.