The Adventures of Benjamin Skyhammer (11 page)

"Hermit must have seen something," Higgins said as they approached the cliff.

"Then why hasn't he told the Academy and the King?"

She shrugged. "He's a Byndari. Who knows why they do what they do?"

Carved into the yellow cliff face were a set of stairs. Although calling them stairs was a bit of a stretch, Skyhammer decided.

"Up you go!" Higgins looked at him.

Groaning, Skyhammer slipped his foot into a roughly hewn slot in the cliff and reached up to grab a metal spike hammered in some way above his head. He hated heights. "No wonder he never comes down." He heaved himself up the wall, chanting his internal mantra: "Don't look down, don't look down."

An hour later, Higgins swung herself over the cliff top and reclined beside a balled-up Skyhammer.

She whistled. "What a view, eh?"

The forest spread out in all directions. To the east, the enormous dark blot of Floatilla hung in the sky. To the west, the forest ended, a long ways off, and the grey range of the Nasuchu lands began. The Shard Mountains crept north. The wide blue above was studded with puffs of white cloud.

"Come on, let's go. I'm curious to see the inside of Hermit's place." She headed towards the house, wind ruffling her hair.

Hermit's house consisted of blocks carved out of the cliff. Since the cliff top was only about twenty feet long in all directions, the house was one room, half-underground. A tall urn stood at the back. Stairs led down to a door.

As they reached the entrance, a high-pitched squeak came from within. It rose and fell intermittently.

Skyhammer's face crumpled. "Oh crap."

"What's that?" Higgins' eyes widened. She stopped moving.

"His harmonica. Hadn't you heard him playing when you were here before? He's awful," Skyhammer whispered.

Higgins relaxed and continued down the stairs. She rapped on the door.

They waited a minute then tried again.

"Could he be ignoring us?" There was a dangerous catch in her voice.

"Possibly." He reached past her, turned the handle and pushed. "Let's just go in."

Higgins walked in, Skyhammer one step behind.

"Hello? Hermit?" To his left, the wall was hidden behind a number of large blocks of salt. Straight ahead, an enormous open fireplace lay dark, a poker on the ground next to it, a couch in front. The right wall reached to waist height then was open right up to the ceiling. A glass-less window. A harmonica lay on the window ledge, emitting a low squeak.

A glint on the floor drew Skyhammer towards the poker.

Crunch!

He froze.

Chapter 11

Countdown to ceremony: 14 days

Higgins hurried over. Skyhammer dared to look down. Beneath his feet was a pile of sand and other ocean detritus. The glinting object was a large oyster shell. Dried bits of seaweed, pieces of wood, small rocks, and any number of shells of all shapes and sizes covered the floor.

Hermit was dead.

"Are you sure it's him?" Higgins knelt on the floor, leaning over what was left of Hermit.

Skyhammer had backed away, stepping off the remains of Hermit's boot-crunched body.

"That oyster shell sat on his left shoulder and he had," Skyhammer glanced over the pile of debris, "that gold-flecked rock on his right shoulder."

"Skyhammer."

"Mmm?"

Higgins rose from the floor. "The poker?"

"Ah." Skyhammer had been avoiding the heavy iron fire poker that lay next to the oyster shell and across the pile of debris. A Byndari's body consisted of an outer shell of sand and other ocean detritus that protected the millions of tiny and delicate water-borne amoebas from the murderous air. Repairing a hole in their shell was almost impossible; most Byndari died within a few minutes of being damaged.

"Someone killed him."

"Maybe he slipped and fell while poking the fire?" Hope filled Skyhammer's voice.

"Maybe."

They sat in silence on the couch.

"We haven't examined anything else." Skyhammer made no move to get up.

"There's no one here. Nobody comes here." Higgins stared at the harmonica.

"He didn't have any friends or anything." It puzzled Skyhammer that Hermit didn't even have any Byndari friends. Maybe the Moksha really had come back. They were the only beings powerful enough to get inside the Retrograph Vault and cruel enough to kill Hermit for seeing them do it. He rubbed his eyes. It was ridiculous to be blaming the Moksha for this.

"I don't want to stay here," Higgins announced. "We should push on to the Academy."

"Are you sure we should still go? The humans there will be just as angry."

"We need to tell the Byndari about the death of a member of their species," Higgins said in a stern voice.

Skyhammer nodded. "The Academy will send Byndari to investigate. Maybe they can tell us why he died or if and when he was killed."

"And they knew you at the Academy. We can speak to Rantama and Principal Floss about the situation. Maybe get some suggestions on who could have been near the Vault." Higgins shivered and headed outside.

Skyhammer cast a glance at the whispering harmonica on the window sill and then closed the door.

* * *

As they poled in a boat up the blue-green canal waters leading to the Academy's grounds, Skyhammer wondered if the student responsible for the canal boat loved the job as much as Skyhammer had. The boat was in the same excellent condition. The canal that connected the two lakes, Murk and Vatil, had been built by the Academy for handy access to the Retrograph Vault. Water that emptied from the canal into Murk Lake seemed to vanish under the black sludge. Maybe the Sorcerer was someone from the Academy. Principal Floss would be able to give them a list of the humans on campus. Although, they had no idea when the piece was taken or when Hermit was killed. If the two were connected, then if the Byndari could tell them when Hermit was killed, that would be useful information. Would Rantama still be at the Academy? He was looking forward to a chat with his Byndari friend.

Skyhammer's mind was awash with memories as he neared the Academy. Most were of his third year. Most included Spark. Stolen kisses, long discussions of childhood experiences, planning for a future of Relic hunting and always, always, dreams of what they would do when they had magic powers.

As the boat glided along the canal, Skyhammer smiled softly. High banks hid woodland and field but eagles and turkey vultures soared on the air currents high above. He recalled a sweet summer afternoon just like this one, soft blankets in the boat, and a warm girl in his arms . . .

The boat bumped into the lock leading up to the lake, jolting Skyhammer back to reality.

Higgins leapt up onto the lock and hauled the wheel to close the doors. As soon as the doors closed, she pulled the lever and the lock filled with water, raising the boat up to lake level. The Vatil, a fresh water lake and the heart of the Academy. Low buildings covered in greenery and flowers blossomed around the lake.

When he first arrived at the Academy, Skyhammer was astounded to find that everything was recycled and the school grew its own food. The dining hall served only vegetarian meals, making everything from scratch. Although students studied at their own pace, they were required to spend four hours each day maintaining the buildings and its environs and doing other daily chores such as cooking and washing. Remembering the taste of fresh-picked strawberries made Skyhammer's mouth water. Until the day he arrived at the Academy, he had only eaten scraps from his family's table or animals he hunted, or berries he picked in the forest.

Skyhammer had haunted the library most weekends, staying out of trouble. Extra time spreading nightsoil was the punishment of choice for professors but rarely did their keen pupils need discipline. Occasionally there would be structured group classes but if a student had a question, it was up to that student to go and find someone who could answer it. Rantama could answer most of Skyhammer's questions.

Skyhammer stared down into the crystal clear water, lost in thought. Next time he came back here, it would be with magic powers.

"Mr. Skyhammer. Miss Higgins. Rumours of your demise have been greatly exaggerated."

Skyhammer glanced towards the commanding voice then fumbled with his pole, almost spilling them into the water. He began to sweat. Ms. Floss, the school's principal, was as squat and muscular as she had been three years ago. Before he ran off without telling her. He'd forgotten about that until now. He poled furiously towards the dock where she stood.

"I'm sorry ma'am-"

She held up a hand. "I am prepared, in this hour of need, to welcome the Keeper of the Retrograph Vault. He has seen the error of his ways and comes back a humble man. I'm glad to hear it."

Skyhammer heard a soft snort from beside him and sighed. "Indeed he has, Ms. Floss. How good you are to accept this transgressor."

Higgins smiled up at the principal.

"I'm dying to hear all about how you escaped from the Crystal Lines." Ms. Floss's eyes shone with anticipation, then narrowed. "But you need to get inside before too many people see you."

Skyhammer tied up the boat.

"And we have some disturbing news for you, Ms. Floss," Higgins replied. She hopped up next to the principal and they headed off towards the main administration building, conversing in low voices. Skyhammer followed, glancing around. Perhaps the fever pitch of hatred for him had not yet been reached here but he wanted to be ready.

* * *

"Miss Higgins has informed me of recent discoveries, Mr. Skyhammer." Ms. Floss pulled the curtains across the windows. "You're in great danger here." She had taken them straight to her office.

Two female students tossed a disc across the large section of grass fronting the lake. Under a tree closer to the administrative buildings, a small ring of students bombarded a professor with questions, the whole group on their hands and knees examining something in the dirt. Each person's eyes had widened as Skyhammer passed, fear or anger painting their faces. He felt a new sense of respect for Ms. Floss. It was obvious she didn't think he was the Sorcerer if she was parading him across the Academy grounds. She was actually trying to set an example, he realized. Although grateful, Skyhammer kept his hand on the hilt of his sword. Here at least he could defend himself, not have to hide behind Higgins like a child. From the looks on their faces, the students and staff didn't agree their principal's opinion of Skyhammer.

Ms. Floss's office was minimal, a reflection of its occupant. Tables, chairs, papers, writing implements, shelves. No art, no personalization of space. With a shiver, Skyhammer recalled the few times he'd been there as a student. A stickler for the rules was Ms. Floss.

"And what-" Skyhammer began.

"I will order Gewiddy and Spelunk to Murk Lake to retrieve Hermit's body and maintain a watch over the Vault. When Spelunk returns, he should be able to tell us when Hermit . . . expired. Most unfortunate." Ms. Floss sat erect in her chair. "I also had word from Four Hills about your terrible deaths. You should know that a contingent of Floatilla citizens is on its way to the Retrograph Vault to try out for the open Retrograph Keeper position."

Skyhammer chuckled darkly. "Maybe we can make it to Keeper number four."

Ms. Floss frowned. "They asked for my help. As in, they want to stay here overnight. They'll be here tomorrow. They cannot find you here."

Skyhammer nodded. "We should -"

"The information on Hermit's death," Ms. Floss continued, "may be a clue to the Retrograph Sorcerer's whereabouts. You should not leave this office. I'll bring blankets in and set a couple of workers I trust to guard you. It's disgusting." She wrinkled her nose. "Some of the people here think that the Floatilla is right to kill you for possibly being the Retrograph Sorcerer. You will not come to any harm on my watch. Either of you."

Skyhammer swallowed, then nodded, grateful. Tough but fair. He hadn't appreciated that aspect of her when he was studying here. "Thank you-"

"You are both safe here." Ms. Floss steepled her fingers. "Until those Floatilla people arrive anyway. I will tell the Byndari to hurry back with the information."

"Thank you, Ms. Floss," Higgins said softly. "We appreciate your trust in us."

"Don't leave and don't let anyone in. I'll get you some food." The principal left them alone.

Higgins and Skyhammer chatted while flicking through their Retrographs.

"I'd really like to visit Rantama."

"Uh, letmethinkaboutthatno?" Higgins closed her Whorl. "The Academy isn't the safest place either, according to Ms. Floss."

"I'll be fine. I'll go after we eat and it's dark. I trust Rantama and he may have some advice on how to find the Sorcerer."

"Okay but I'm coming."

Skyhammer opened his mouth, then shut it. There was no use arguing with her. "Fine." He glanced back at his Whorl. He kept going back to the Retrograph of the four slates with knives stuck in them, mesmerized. Shocking, especially since the previous and next Retrographs were perfectly normal.

A key turned in the door. Skyhammer closed his Whorl, hand back on his sword hilt.

Ms. Floss slipped in, a large bag in her hand. As she closed and locked the door behind her, she said, "A few people saw me. And of course the kitchen staff was curious." She pulled food out of the bag and onto the table - cheese, bread, fruit, some kind of tart. "I'm not even sure if you should stay the night here," she admitted, crossing her arms.

As Skyhammer and Higgins began to dig in to the food, Ms. Floss sat down at the table with them. Stuffing a piece of cheese in his mouth, Skyhammer sat back in his chair. Higgins swallowed her bread.

"Maybe you could help us, Ms. Floss." Skyhammer described the changes to his Retrographs once again. "Do you know of any Relics that could make changes to Retrographs?"

Shaking her head, Ms. Floss began to pace the length of the room. "Nothing springs to mind. I could check our records I suppose. . ."