CHAPTER 79 – Ask Not For Whom …

Gathered in the long dining room for interrogation by Taerelle, Saphienne’s friends were unprepared for the intruder alarm to ring, and the instant she tiredly announced its significance they started to panic.

Yet the senior apprentice was calm.

Saphienne’s eyes flew open as Taerelle seized her arm and yanked her upright, her tutor walking her to the centre of the room while gesturing in quick flourishes and uttering syllables in an eldritch tongue. Orange light coalesced in the apprentice wizard’s palm, and she immediately touched her own shoulder, the abjuration expanding into a spherical shell around her that faded from mundane sight — still defending her as she cast the spell again, this time imparting a ward onto Saphienne while she scanned the doors and windows.

“Do not run.” Taerelle was serene as she commanded her. “Not unless I say.”

Iolas recognised Taerelle’s authority, and he hefted the chair he’d been sitting on, wielding it as an unwieldy, improvised club. “Tell me what to do!”

“In front of Saphienne,” she directed him. “Don’t engage until I cast.”

Not to be outdone, Faylar had raced to the cabinet on the wall opposite the tall windows, and was holding a sharp knife as he stood guard in the doorway to the hallway–

“Foolish boy!” She had no patience for would-be heroics. “Stand clear — give me unobstructed line of sight!”

Laewyn was cowering under the end of the table, beside where Celaena was crouched; Saphienne could tell from the older girl’s calculating frown that she was considering the enchanted weapon locked in her desk.

Celaena made her decision. “I have a Rod of Repulsion upstairs–”

“When the spirit enters, choose your moment, then go for it.”

Capably defended by the woman in the evening gown, Saphienne admired the steel in her cool gaze, the discipline through which they scrutinised her surroundings, the analytical confidence she exhibited in effortlessly marshalling all the resources at her disposal. That Taerelle had warded herself first made sense, given that an intelligent assailant would focus on the most dangerous adversary in the room. “…You memorised two wards?”

“Every day — ever since the letter arrived.”

The depth of the senior apprentice’s preparedness made Saphienne acutely aware of just how far she really was from being ready to join Taerelle in black robes.

Still, was there actually a threat? No woodland spirit had tried to murder Saphienne, and the girls who had attacked her hadn’t intended to injure her so terribly — Tirisa, Alynelle, and Elisa had tried to restrain Syndelle when she went too far. That they would now want to kill Saphienne seemed improbable… especially since their leader had come to the main doors some time earlier.

No, for all that Lensa was shortsighted, she was cunning. Saphienne’s conjecture – based on how the vicious girl had carried herself – was that she knew the supremacy of testimony when elders were called upon to determine guilt. Supposing that Lensa understood how she and her followers would hold the advantage were they to be accused, why would she let them risk implicating her through rash action?

A shift in the ringing bells interrupted Saphienne’s momentary reflection, and Taerelle addressed the unproven apprentices without looking, her attention on all possible entrances. “Why have they changed?”

“Someone’s outside the floor above us,” Celaena answered. “The first pattern meant someone tried to open a window–”

“So not yet inside?”

“No–”

Taerelle marched Saphienne from the dining room. “Everyone, with me!”

Letting herself be carried along with the group, Saphienne reassessed the danger in light of the sudden escalation. The bells had to be audible through the windows — so whoever was outside hadn’t been scared off. Who would be determined enough to hear the alarm and still climb the tree? While she couldn’t come up with any answer that satisfied her, she was forced to conclude that the trespasser had ill intent.

She sought confirmation from Celaena. The wide, concerned eyes with which the girl stared back revealed that her confidant had reached a more fearful conclusion: someone intended Saphienne harm.

Taerelle shook her shoulder. “Stay alert prodigy! Where is the safest room in the house? No windows, at least two exits, plenty of cover.”

Saphienne hesitated. “…Does an upstairs window count as–”

“Can you climb with that hand?”

She studied her limp palm as they hurried down the hall. “Probably?”

“Then yes.”

Allowing Celaena to fetch the enchanted rod would improve their odds against an unknown assailant. “Celaena’s study — on the uppermost floor.”

Laewyn trembled as she clung to her girlfriend. “Why don’t we just leave?”

Taerelle stopped at the edge of the grand foyer. “The alarm may be intended to flush us out: the spirit could be waiting, and an open exit will create a way in.” She let go of Saphienne as she squinted upward, stepping out onto the black tiles with her hand readied to fling a spell — then paused. “Thessa! Are you alone?”

Far overhead, Thessa was bewildered as she called down. “Who are you? Where did everyone go? What’s going on?”

“Stay there! We’re coming to you!” The senior apprentice waved for Iolas to go ahead to his sister, taking hold of Saphienne as they began climbing the staircase.

When they passed the next floor, the bells pealed in a new rhythm.

Horror filled Celaena’s voice. “They’re following us up!”

Taerelle only quickened her pace. “The windows: how are they warded?”

“Abjurations of force! They push back if you lean–”

“Good.” She didn’t slow as they approached the uppermost landing. “Are any of the windows open or unlatched?”

“I don’t think so–”

Saphienne cut in. “One, unlatched inside her father’s sanctum — but the way inside has been sealed.”

Rushing over as the group surmounted the stairs, Thessa unwittingly blocked the route forward. “What in the world is happen–”

Taerelle pushed past Iolas to shove her aside. “An embodied spirit is trying to break in — likely to finish her attempt on Saphienne’s life. Keep quiet and stay close.”

“What? But–”

Iolas stumbled with the chair as he grabbed his sister’s elbow. “She’s a senior apprentice to our master, and she knows what she’s doing — trust her.”

Passing Laewyn to Faylar, Celaena ran ahead to open the door to her study and survey the room; she urgently beckoned Taerelle. “In here!”

The senior apprentice went ahead, sweeping her eyes across the corners of the room and under the table in an elegant spin before she nodded. Celaena was next inside, immediately unlocking the drawer of her desk while Saphienne moved to the bookshelves furthest from the door and windows.

Faylar gripped the edge of the table. “Do we barricade the–”

“Not unless the spirit enters the hallway.” Taerelle snatched the Rod of Repulsion from Celaena’s hands, checking the ruby on its lowermost end. “Celaena: have you ever hurt someone?”

Though pale, Celaena was resolute. “No, but I can.”

Taerelle took her at her word and passed it back. “Set it to the second level, then conceal it behind you. Cower and look pitiful if we encounter the spirit. Wait until she’s distracted, then strike from behind.” She pointedly held Celaena’s gaze. “If the first blow doesn’t disable her, do not hesitate: hit her with as many full blasts as it takes. Do you understand what I am telling you?”

“Kill whoever she’s possessing.” Celaena pursed her lips.

Iolas was aghast. “Wait! What if they’re a victim–”

The senior apprentice wizard was unmoved. “The spirit should quit their body once they’re incapacitated. If they keep coming, it will be because the spirit is powerful enough to heal them while puppeting them, in which case we have no choice — killing the host will stun the spirit, hopefully long enough for me to abjure her while the rest of you run for the centre of the village.”

“But–”

“A powerful spirit this brazen won’t leave any witnesses. Do you want your sister to die with you?”

Watching Iolas, Saphienne saw him overcome himself: deathly tranquillity settled onto his face like a horned mask as he discarded his self-doubt. “No.” His grip on the upturned chair tightened.

 

* * *

 

The warning bells chimed a third melody.

Celaena held the rod behind herself and took up position on the floor in the corner nearest the entrance. “They’ve climbed up to reach us.”

Thessa and Laewyn hid behind Faylar and Iolas; Taerelle placed herself in front of Saphienne, where she could observe all entrances.

Perhaps a minute passed in hushed anticipation.

“…Prodigy.” Taerelle had been thinking. “You said the way to the sanctum is sealed. Does only one door connect it to the rest of the house?”

Before Saphienne could ask her, Celaena spoke up. “Yes! The branch is completely separate from the living space.”

“And you and Saphienne are certain: the only unlatched window is behind it?”

Both girls nodded.

Revising her plan, Taerelle addressed the group. “Laewyn: stay in here. Scream as loudly as you can if the intruder enters. Faylar: stand in the corridor and watch both directions. Yell if you see anyone other than us. Iolas, Celaena, and Thessa: come with me and Saphienne.”

Thessa was scared. “Where are we–”

“Faylar and Laewyn are guarding the retreat.” Taerelle pulled Saphienne after her as she strode to the hall. “Your task is to scream and flee with Saphienne should I fall. Put Saphienne and Faylar in the study with Laewyn, shut the door, and then keep screaming as you run downstairs. Keep the spirit’s attention away from them.”

Saphienne could see her plan. “We keep quiet, open the window, and climb down?”

“Go for the centre of the village — don’t shout for help until you’re a thousand feet away, but don’t stop once you begin. There will be spirits walking in the festival grounds, and they will defend you from their sister.”

Faylar stood in the hallway, remaining in view of where Laewyn remained shaking and tearful in the study; Celaena led the way toward the chokepoint.

Iolas trailed behind with his sister. “…You want me to create a distraction for Celaena, don’t you?”

Utterly resolved, Taerelle didn’t coddle him. “If I don’t stop the spirit in the sanctum? You two will be all that stands between her and the others. Yes, apprentice: I want you to throw yourself in harm’s way, for their sake. This is what it means to be an elven wizard.”

 

* * *

 

Despite spending many hours in the impressive house, Saphienne had never seen the imposing entrance to the branch that held the sanctum. Two arched doors were set into a larger arched frame, the void above them filled with stained glass depicting the tree and stars of the Luminary Vale’s emblem. A hallucinatory, more personal emblem shimmered across the entire doorway, its mystical script as yet indecipherable to Saphienne — but reminiscent of the seal Almon had affixed to his letter of recommendation.

Beholding the Hallucination spell slowed Taerelle. “Your father is–”

Surprised and intrigued to see her shaken, Saphienne watched the senior apprentice recompose herself.

“…Later.” Taerelle was stern as she relinquished Saphienne to Thessa. “Prodigy: you are injured and of no use in conflict. I expect you to follow the plan I have outlined without innovation. Should you be struck down after me, whichever spirit wants you dead will have succeeded despite my sacrifice — and I will be very disappointed in you.”

Although she pulled Saphienne protectively against her chest, Thessa was struggling to hold herself together. “What if there’s more than one spirit? What if the spirit tries to possess–”

“I will not be easily possessed.” The woman in black sounded sure, and she knelt down to unlace the ribbons that wound up and around her calves to hold her shoes in place. “Should one of you be, resist as best you can — that will present an opening.” She kicked her footwear away and took hold of the hem of her dress, methodically tearing up its seams and then ripping the flimsy cloth horizontally, raising the hem line to her knees and discarding the excess fabric.

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Iolas swallowed. “And if there’s more than one?”

“Then we’re fucked.” Taerelle gave him a bleak smile as she rose. “But should multiple spirits be involved? Then the ancient ways hang precariously — our demise would be prelude to an unfathomable conflict. I believe a lone aggressor is more likely.”

Celaena’s expression was mistakable for sorrowful dread, but Saphienne read the guilt her friend was feeling — for she felt it too. The two communicated wordlessly as Taerelle appraised the sealing spell, Celaena asking Saphienne whether they should admit who was really responsible for the beating.

Shaking her head, Saphienne pulled free from Thessa and crossed her arms. “Let’s hope whoever is stalking us isn’t–”

Silvery-blue sparkles hung where Taerelle cast another spell, a hallucination that projected the emblem of Celaena’s father atop the shape already present. The transparent seal wavered and dissolved, loud clicks emanating from the handles as the arcane lock disengaged.

Celaena gasped. “Why did you–”

“That was a simple seal — the fastening may have been magical, but the doors could have been broken down.” Taerelle steeled herself. “Given that the spirit hasn’t entered, the abjurations on the windows are beyond its power to breach. Where is the unlatched window?”

Drawing in a centring breath, Celaena moved aside. “On the left of the foyer as you enter. Will you latch it?”

Taerelle inclined her head. “…So long as the alarm isn’t wrong, and the spirit is still outside, that seems a wise first move… let’s see…”

Yet, from the way the senior apprentice lingered where previously she had acted so decisively, Saphienne realised: she was frightened.

With a irreverent smile that couldn’t conceal the fondness she felt, Saphienne’s tutor turned back to her. “Be good, prodigy.”

Then Taerelle threw wide the doors and leapt into the room beyond, long legs swiftly carrying her out of view.

Craning to see, Saphienne beheld a spiral staircase rising at the far wall, flanked by two tall windows, steps descending either side to unknown levels below. In the middle of the floor, strikingly arranged to catch the lamplight, a mannequin was dressed in dark grey robes — a sealed letter pinned to its breast.

Tarelle reappeared from the left, stopping beside the robes. “I’ve secured–”

Something to the right caught her eye, and she conjured as she spun, glittering red gathering on the senior apprentice’s lips to be spat with a single word, a word that rolled from her tongue with venom and gathering momentum, her image contorted by the lens made by the concentrating magic before the spell thundered outward, forced the air aside–

Only for Taerelle to desperately hurl herself backward, with a cry that expressed her miscalculation: “Oh fu–”

What seemed like another bolt of pure force came right back toward her, deflecting off her ward as she fell on the floor — and slamming the mannequin into the opposite wall, where it exploded into shards of wood and shreds of tattered cloth.

Saphienne’s tutor lay unmoving.

Iolas ran for her. “Go! I’ll hold–”

And then Taerelle snorted with laughter.

He stumbled to a halt on the threshold. “…Taerelle?”

“Holy shit!” She sat upright, shivering in the aftermath. “Holy fucking shit! Good gods damn: I nearly killed myself! What a fucking tragic excuse for a wiz–”

She abruptly fell silent.

Regaining her footing along with her composure, Taerelle folded her arms. “…Saphienne, come here.”

Heart racing, goosebumps all over her body, Saphienne shuffled forward, her breath so shallow that she started to feel faint.

Her tutor pointed to a window on the right. “Do you know her?”

Saphienne looked…