“Yadeen,” snapped the newcomer, “why are you dawdling? I can’t dry things and harden the setting material until you have put the pieces where they belong!”
Arram wished he were at home and in bed. It was Ozorne’s master, Chioké. He squinted at the green-and-brown fire that was Yadeen. He didn’t even really need to see the master’s body at this point. Yadeen could have walked down the road outside while Arram was still inside the marble and Arram would have pinpointed his location. “Master, why is he here?” he asked. “I didn’t invite him. Did you?”
Yadeen clapped a large hand over Arram’s mouth and pulled him into the shelter of his arm. “The boy has been assisting me, Chioké,” he said, his voice flat. “Plainly I have overworked him. Najau!” he bellowed. To Chioké he said, “I will join you at the stand as soon as I send the boy on his way.”
“I know him,” Chioké said. “That’s the Draper boy who tags along after His Highness.” He said the word “draper” as if he emphasized poverty, as if Arram were a commoner who did no more than weave and spin. Arram stiffened. He was proud of his family’s craft. Chioké continued, “Don’t tell me he contributed much.”
“We have worked the stone together,” Yadeen said. “I will see you shortly.” It was a plain dismissal.
Chioké whirled around, splattering both of them with the water from his wide coat, and walked rapidly out into the rain.
“Who stepped on his toes?” Arram asked. He rubbed the drops over his face: they were nice and cold.
“No doubt both of us. We aren’t nearly wellborn enough for the likes of him.”
A short, broad, fuzzy shape joined them as Arram remembered what Yadeen had said. “I don’t want to go. You said I was helping.”
“You were helping. Now you’re exhausted.”
“I am?”
“You’re barely on your feet, lad,” Najau said. “I’ll get him back to school.” He rested a hand on Arram’s shoulder. “I’ve got a courier that’s going to the city. He’ll see to it you get home.”
Arram frowned, swaying on his feet. He’d let Yadeen down. “I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough.”
Yadeen squeezed his shoulder. “You did far better than I had expected. Now go. Tell Irafa I said you were to sleep as much as you like.”
“Come along, boy,” Najau ordered.
As Najau led him down the tunnel to a waiting horse and rider, Arram asked, “Can Musenda go with me?”
“You’re drunk on marble. Musenda’s a slave, boy,” Najau reminded him. “He doesn’t go anywhere outside without chains on. Now, next time you come to the arena, we’ll make sure he gives you a special salute, to thank you for this night’s work.”
Arram said nothing, even as the rider took him up behind him. He remained silent except to thank the man once they reached Arram’s dormitory. He would much rather have had Musenda walking freely beside him, telling Arram about his life.
THE IMPERIAL UNIVERSITY OF CARTHAK
The School for Mages
The Upper Academy
SCHEDULE OF STUDY, SUMMER TERM, 437 H.E.
Student: Arram Draper Learning Level: Semi-Independent
Second Morning Bell
Stones and Magic—Yadeen
Breakfast—Third Morning Bell
Morning Classes
Basic Medicines—Second-year student Human Beings: Anatomy—Third-year healing student Language: Yamani—Second-year student
Lunch—Noon Bell
Afternoon Classes
Fire Magic—Cosmas
Illusions: Small Animals—Dagani Water Magic—Sebo
Plant Magic—Hulak
Supper—Seventh Afternoon Bell
Extra Study at Need
Without fuss, Ozorne, Varice, and Arram were moved from their former quarters in the Lower Academy to new ones in the Upper Academy. Arram and Ozorne were once more sharing a place, with the understanding that two more students would move in with them at the end of the summer term. Varice was placed with three other girls, all of whom treated her “very decently,” she told the boys. Then she added with a giggle, “Of course, I did tell them that you and I have been friends for years, Ozorne.”
The boys gave Irafa gifts in thanks for her care when Varice nudged them. Arram would miss the housekeeper. Both boys would miss their ground-floor quarters, too. Their new residence was four floors aboveground, and warm with the coming of summer, though they had little time to complain. All three had full schedules of classes.
Arram was most intrigued by his first lesson with the small, intimidating instructor in water magic, Master Sebo, whom he had first met the day he flooded a classroom. To his surprise, her classroom was outside the grounds by way of the Water Gate. His directions instructed that he was to take a left-hand trail away from the side road to the river landing. The sign for the trail was right under another announcing that the area was re-spelled against hippo and crocodile intrusion every year.
Arram prayed that was true. Once on the path, he would not see anything that came for him. It was hidden by reeds that grew higher than his head. A hippo would be on me before I could run, he thought nervously.
Following the trail around a curve, he found a clearing. At its center stood a large round hut built of the same reeds that grew nearby. Sebo stood at its open door. He noted her clothes because Varice had made him promise to tell her: the teacher wore a brightly colored wrap patterned in blue and white. Her gray hair was twisted into a number of small knots tight against her head.
“We’re going in the river for our first lesson,” she informed him. “You will be perfectly safe. You’ll be able to breathe. And you will do exactly as I say. I’ve never taught one as young as you, so it’s important that you obey, understand?” Arram nodded, but she decided to clarify the order. “No jumping, no trying to swim off, no frightening the animals. The university mages place spells for a certain distance in the river every year so people may swim—you have seen the warning posts?”
Arram nodded. The posts were painted a bright yellow, and even bold swimmers like Varice didn’t venture beyond them.
“We shall go past them, among the wild creatures. You are my guest. Don’t make me regret taking you on. If I get irritated, I might drown you a little bit.”
Arram gulped. “Yes, Master Sebo. I know how to act in—in other people’s houses.”
She snorted. “We’ll see. Now follow.” She led Arram down a thin trail behind her own home. It emerged onto a broad, sandy cove.
“Don’t remove your sandals here,” Sebo instructed. “You don’t want to be barefoot on the river bottom. Now, until you learn to do it yourself, I will place my wards on you. They will help you to breathe as well as keep you safe.” She rubbed her hands together. “The animals will come close. Panic and I will send you to shore so fast you will be sick for a week.”
“You don’t have to threaten me,” Arram objected.