Annev was almost afraid to speak, and Tosan sensed he had won the argument.
‘It’s in your nature, Ainnevog. Like the ring-snake, you change your surroundings to suit your needs. Given the choice whether to live in the dormitories you would not have chosen differently, because you have not chosen differently. You may act as if you belong, but your actions prove you are not part of this tree. Instead, you are a divisive element that seeks to cripple what I have worked very hard to cultivate.’ Tosan paused, as if expecting Annev to argue. When he did not, Tosan picked up the book containing the snake illustration. He studied it then carefully closed the book and carried it back to his bookcase.
‘There’s one other thing I find fascinating about ring-snakes,’ Tosan said, replacing the book on the shelf. ‘It doesn’t happen very often, but sometimes a snake injures itself by trying to be too clever – either by trying to squeeze a tree that is too large or by swallowing too much of its own tail. In the first instance, the snake is fortunate. It exhausts itself and learns to accept the things it cannot change. In the second instance – when it can’t withdraw its tail – it chokes and dies.’ The headmaster studied Annev.
‘You’re unquestionably talented, Ainnevog,’ Tosan said, beginning to pace the room, ‘but there comes a time when we must all learn to submit, when we accept that some things cannot change and therefore we must change. What I don’t know is whether you’ve reached that point. I don’t know if you can learn from your mistakes or if you’re just doomed to choke on them.’
Tosan stopped in front of the stained-glass window. The sun had almost reached its zenith, yet shafts of rainbow light still coloured the room. From Annev’s vantage, dull shards of red and gold painted the headmaster’s face.
‘Witmistress Kiara has argued your case,’ Tosan said, after a long pause. ‘When we spoke, I noted your argumentative nature, but I also acknowledged your ability. So the decision remains a pragmatic one. Does our need for good avatars outweigh the risk of you subverting the Academy with Sodar’s ideology?’
Annev felt a desperate spark of hope kindle in his breast.
‘No,’ Tosan continued, ‘it does not. But if I deprived you of Sodar’s influence – if I quenched that spirit of rebellion – could I then mould you into something useful? That, I do not know.’ Tosan tapped his lips, turned from the window, and walked back to his chair.
‘You’ve been training to become an Avatar of Judgement for years,’ Tosan said, as if speaking to himself, ‘and yet, at the same time, you have been training to be a deacon and a priest. In hindsight, I should have put an end to that once I became Eldest of Ancients. How do I now reconcile your fractured loyalties?’
Annev held his breath, sensing Tosan’s decision was imminent.
‘I had hoped you would see things from my perspective after our talk last night, but your test today proves you have not changed your course. Since, despite my encouragement, you haven’t proved yourself an avatar in body and spirit, my only choice is to make you a Steward of the Academy. You will no longer attend training classes with the master avatars. Instead, you will be assigned a master steward and will learn his trade, and you will move out of the chapel and live here at the Academy. Your privileges of entering the Brakewood have also been revoked.’ Tosan tapped his chin. ‘That won’t prevent you from seeing Sodar, though, so I think I’ll also restrict your movements to the Academy. No attending Seventhday services, no trips to market. You are never to leave this building. Understood?’
Annev blinked, at a loss for words. He had hoped Elder Tosan was talking himself into a third option – that Kiara had convinced him – but instead Tosan had found something even worse than just becoming a steward. Annev had run out of options, and he bitterly regretted helping Titus and Therin. For the first time, he genuinely wished he had followed the rules and heeded Tosan’s advice.
‘I … I understand.’
‘Good.’ Tosan sat down.
Annev’s stomach twisted into a knot as he felt his whole life turn on its head. It was real – this was real. He would never be able to escape Fyn’s bullying. Never be able to give Myjun his promise ring.
Never see Sodar again.
It didn’t seem possible. He had eaten breakfast with the man just this morning, and now he was not permitted to see or speak to him. The old priest was more than just a mentor. He was the closest thing Annev had to a father. He knew the boy’s secrets and his strengths, and had protected and aided him when the Academy would have cursed or killed him.
Annev felt as if he were being torn in half. He was going to be sick. He cast about, desperate for something to cling to – for any chance to salvage a single scrap of his former life.
‘There is one possibility,’ Tosan said. ‘One chance at redemption.’
Annev looked up, unaware of the tears streaming down his face.
‘Anything,’ he whispered.
‘This month’s test has fallen on Regaleus,’ Tosan said, leaning forward in his chair, ‘which means there is one more day before this week ends and the next reap begins testing. One more day in which you could prove yourself worthy to become an Avatar of Judgement.’
Annev sat up straight. ‘What must I do?’
Tosan studied him. ‘Whatever happens, you will leave Sodar’s chapel and move to the Academy. The man’s corrupting influence cannot be overstated, and we cannot retrain you without removing you from his care.’
Annev barely hesitated. His life with Sodar was over, one way or another.
‘I understand, Elder Tosan.’
‘Excellent. Now, for your task. Master Carbad tells me there is a merchant wandering the perimeter of the village. The man claims he got lost trying to find a shortcut through the Brakewood. Apparently, he is seeking admittance to Chaenbalu right now.’
‘A merchant?’ Annev repeated. ‘But … no one ever comes to Chaenbalu.’
Tosan stared at Annev, his face a mask. ‘It has been years since anyone has stumbled upon our village, and we must keep it that way. Our secrecy is imperative for keeping the magical artifacts safe from monsters who would misuse them.’
Annev frowned, waiting for Tosan to elaborate. When he did not, Annev had to guess at Tosan’s intent.
‘I can find this merchant, Elder Tosan. What then?’
‘Barter for palm vine and dragon’s blood tree resin. The Academy needs more of both, but your real mission is to discover how the merchant found our village.’ Annev nodded and the ancient took a tiny purse from his desk drawer.
‘You will find the man on the eastern side of the village,’ Tosan said, handing Annev the coin purse. ‘Once you’ve secured the supplies, lead him away from the village and kill him.’
‘Kill him, for getting lost?’ Annev’s mouth went dry.