The Mage's Grave: Mages of Martir Book #1 (13 page)

Opening his eyes again, Darek said, “I feel like all of my bones are gone. I just need to rest, I think, and let my body recover from the excessive amount of magic I used.”

“Of course,” said Aorja. “I honestly didn't expect you to wake up so soon. You looked like you were out for the count.”

Darek shrugged. “I'm still not entirely well. I only woke up because I had the strangest dream, which I can't remember very well at the moment.”

“Strange dreams do that sometimes,” said Aorja, still smiling, although to Darek the smile didn't look very sincere. “But you do sound tired. I thought you were whispering at first, but I can see now that it's because you are still weak from your fight with the chimera.”

Darek hadn't noticed any difference in his voice, but when he spoke again, he did notice how quietly he was speaking.

“The chimera,” said Darek. “What happened to it?”

“Transported to the catacombs,” said Aorja. “The biomancy students are going to dissect it to find out who created it. Kind of disgusting if you ask me, but hey, if it will help us figure out who is behind all of this stuff, then I guess it will be worth it.”

The sincerity in her words matched the sincerity in her smile, which was to say, she sounded quite insincere. It was as if she was trying to hide her true feelings on the subject, although why she would, Darek didn't know.

And right now, he didn't need to know. He just needed to find out what else had happened since he had gone unconscious. Knowing how quickly things happened at this school, he bet he had missed quite a bit.

“How is everyone else?” said Darek. “Kuroshio and Auratus?”

“They're fine,” said Aorja. “But Yorak is really pissed. She doesn't like how North Academy has become about as safe as Rock Isle, so she's taking her students and leaving as soon as they get a new airship.”

“What?” said Darek. “A new airship? But doesn't their old one still work?”

“Someone blew it up,” said Aorja. She spread her arms like she was pantomiming an explosion. “Big fiery column of death. The pilot of their ship was still in there when it happened, so as you can guess, he was completely vaporized.”

“That's horrible,” said Darek. “Do we know who did it?”

Aorja shrugged like it was no big deal. “Nope. The Institute mages are still investigating the wreckage, but to be completely honest, I don't think they'll find much in the way of evidence.”

“Why wouldn't they?” said Darek. “Granted, I don't know how good they are at investigating explosions, but I think it would be hard for an attacker to cover his tracks with so many mages investigating his work.”

“Because I think that whoever is behind these attacks is quite the clever little devil,” said Aorja. “He's probably hiding among the students even as we speak, I reckon, keeping a low profile and doing his best to seem as frightened and scared and ignorant of what is happening as anyone else.”

Aorja said this with an admiring tone of voice, although Darek didn't see any reason to admire such an obviously deranged person. Of course, Darek could have been misinterpreting her tone, seeing as he was still washed out from the fight with the chimera.

So Darek said, “The Third Dorm. How's the investigation for that going?”

“About as well as you'd expect,” said Aorja. “Which is to say, they've had no luck in finding any clues as to the attacker's identity, last I heard. It's a shame, but like I said, I think this guy has to be pretty smart. After all, he's managed to hide his identity from the Magical Superior
and
Yorak, easily two of the smartest mages in the world. That's not easy.”

Darek sank deeper into the pillow his head rested on, staring up at the ceiling. “You make a good point. Maybe this guy has already left. After all, everyone is on high alert now. Any suspicious behavior on his part is bound to be noticed by everyone, after all.”

“Quite true,” said Aorja, scratching her arm. “But I don't think he's run. I think he's still around here, probably keeping an eye on things in case he needs to cause another explosion somehow.”

“If I were him, I'd definitely run,” said Darek. “Not that I am him, obviously. I'm just saying that as a hypothetical.”

“I understand,” said Aorja. “I would never think of you as the attacker, Darek. I mean, you're smart and all, but not smart enough to fool both the Magical Superior and Yorak.”

“Thanks a lot,” Darek muttered. Then he said, in a louder voice, “How is Jiku doing? Has he awoken yet?”

“Not yet,” said Aorja, shaking her head. “He's still resting from the attack on the Third Dorm. It's sad because I was really hoping to speak with him, but I guess I won't be able to do that until tomorrow at the earliest.”

She sighed, but her sigh was more relieved than wistful. It was as if she was happy that Jiku was not yet awake, which made no sense to Darek at all.

“Well, you can talk with me instead,” said Darek, giving her a weak smile. “But at least Jiku is going to be all right. He was in bad shape when I rescued him from the flames of the Third Dorm like that. I didn't think he'd recover at all, but I guess Yorak really is a great mage, huh?”

“Yep,” said Aorja. “That's why they call her the Grand Magus, after all. It's not exactly a title the aquarian mages bestow upon any old mage.”

“Yeah,” said Darek. Then he looked around and frowned. “By the way, has Mom come by to see me yet?”

“Nope,” said Aorja. “I think she's helping the Institute mages investigate the destruction of their airship, to be honest. You know how your mom gets. She seems to be attracted to explosions.”

“Mom's helpful, that's what she is,” said Darek. “She likes to help people, even people she doesn't know very well. It's what I've always admired in her.”

“She's also a very strict teacher,” said Aorja. “I mean, all of the teachers are strict, obviously, but Jenur really pushes us, doesn't she?”

Darek nodded. Mom had a reputation among the students for her no-nonsense attitude and intolerance towards laziness and irresponsibility. Even he wasn't immune from her sometimes harsh diatribes in which she would push him to his limits, and he was her son.

If anything, I think she's always treated me harsher than the others,
Darek thought.
Probably to avoid being accused of favoritism, I bet.

“Honestly, though, I think it's good we're both alone together here,” said Aorja. “It's only been a couple of hours, but it feels like it's been days since you, me, and Jiku here were all together like this.”

“Yeah,” said Darek. “Hopefully we'll figure this out soon enough. Then maybe everything can go back to normal. Like how it was in the old days.”

“Yep,” said Aorja. “So, Darek, why don't you just go back to sleep? You really do need your rest. I can see it in the bags under your eyes. You look like a zombie.”

Darek didn't have a mirror on hand to check that claim, but he was feeling tired and sleepy. The feeling in his hands was slowly returning, but he doubted it would completely return for a few more hours at least.

Nonetheless, his attention returned to Aorja's other arm, the one she was hiding behind her back. He tilted his head to the side and asked, “What have you got behind your back there? Your blood tear?'

Aorja laughed, although it was a hollow laugh. “Of course not. You know I never carry that with me anywhere. It's back in my room in the Third Dorm.”

“Oh,” said Darek. “Right. I keep forgetting that. I guess I just think that if I had a magical object like that, I would take it with me everywhere I go.”

“It's not all that special,” said Aorja. “Besides, I'm not much a geomancer, so it couldn't really help me even if I did carry it around.”

“Okay, but that still doesn't explain what you have got behind your back,” said Darek. “Is it a present for Jiku? Or for me?”

“Where would I get a present for either of you?” said Aorja. “It's not like there's a gift shop in the Arcanium's lobby or anything.”

“I know,” said Darek. “But I'm just curious because you've held your arm like that for a while now and I was wondering what it was.”

“It's nothing,” said Aorja. “Just go to sleep, Darek. You need it.”

“Not until I find out what that is,” said Darek, craning his neck in an attempt to look around her body. “Is it a new wand for me?”

Aorja turned her body to keep Darek from being able to look around at it. “No. It's just not something you need to see, okay?”

“But I want to see it,” said Darek as he craned his neck even further. “You do realize that your hiding it only makes me want to see it more, don't you?”

“I know,” said Aorja, still turning her body to block his view of whatever she was hiding. “It's just not anything you need to see. Is respecting my privacy really that difficult for you to do?”

“If that privacy is right in front of me and you keep trying to hide it, then yes, it is,” said Darek. His neck started to hurt, so he stopped craning it. “Come on. You were going to give it to Jiku, weren't you? What were you going to show Jiku that you can't show me?”

“It's nothing,” said Aorja. “It's not really a present or anything.”

“If it's nothing, then it shouldn't hurt to show me what it is, right?” said Darek. “Come on. Just show it to me already.”

Aorja was starting to look annoyed, even angry, but before she could respond again, Jiku moaned.

Both Aorja and Darek looked at Jiku. He was still lying in his bed in between them, but now he was beginning to stir. His eyes flickered several times before finally remaining open.

Darek could hardly believe his eyes. He watched with excitement as Jiku blinked several times and looked around with a dazed, confused look in his eyes.

“Jiku's awake,” said Darek with a laugh. “Oh, Jiku, it's great to see you're doing well, old buddy. How—”

Darek's question was cut off when Jiku took one look at Aorja and pointed at her accusingly. “You! What are you doing—”

Moving faster than Darek had ever seen her move before, Aorja whipped out her wand from behind her back and pointed it point blank at Jiku's face. Jiku immediately shut up, his eyes screwing up as he looked down Aorja's wand, which was softly glowing with suppressed power.

“What in the name of Skimif, the Northern Pantheon, and the Southern Pantheon is going on here?” said Darek, looking from Aorja to Jiku and back again. “Why are you two acting like mortal enemies? Aren't we all friends around here?”

Without taking his eyes off Aorja's wand, Jiku slowly shook his head. “I thought we were, but—”

“Shut up, old man,” Aorja snarled, her voice losing even the fake kindness it had originally. “Or I will finish the job I started in the Third Dorm.”

“Wait, what?” said Darek. His eyes widened as her words sank in like a stone. “Impossible. Aorja,
you
were the one who blew up the Third Dorm?”

“I guess there's no hiding it anymore,” said Aorja with a sigh, although her wand never wavered from Jiku's face. “Yes, I, Aorja Kitano, created the explosive spell that almost completely destroyed the entire Third Dorm. It was
supposed
to kill Jiku, too, but then you just had to play the hero, didn't you, Darek?”

Darek opened his mouth, but no sound came from it. He felt like he had completely lost the ability to speak. Nothing Aorja said made any sense. It was like someone had revealed to him that Martir was perched on the back of a turtle and he wasn't sure whether they were joking or being dead serious.

“This was all supposed to work out how I planned it,” Aorja said, her voice angry. “It was a simple plan, but you messed it up, Darek. Jiku also messed it up by acting like an idiot.”

“Trying to stop you from killing everyone here is what you call acting like an idiot?” said Jiku, although his voice was weak. “That's an odd definition of the word.”

“Aorja was planning to kill everyone?” said Darek. “But why?”

“Jiku's getting senile,” said Aorja. “I'm not some kind of crazy mass murderer. I was simply trying to create a distraction.”

“A distraction?” said Darek. “Who were you trying to distract? And why?”

Aorja shot such an annoyed look at Darek that he thought she was going to shoot daggers from her eyes. “Are you really that dense? I was trying to distract
you
and every other mage in this school. By blowing up one of the Dorms, I thought I would successfully distract you from what my allies were doing.”

“Who are you allies?” Darek asked. “And who do you even work for? How long have you been this way?”

“My 'allies' are a couple of idiotic katabans who got captured anyway,” said Aorja. “Sometimes I wonder about Master's choice of servants, I really do, whenever I think about those two stooges.”

“Hold on,” said Darek, raising his hands, which were still quite blue. “Back up. What is going on here? Why are you betraying us? Why did you try to kill Jiku? And who is this 'Master' you spoke of?”

“Well, considering neither of you are going to be alive for much longer, I suppose I can tell you a thing or two about me and my Master,” said Aorja. “Not much, obviously, because it won't be long before the Magical Superior and everyone else figures out I did it. So I'll keep it short and to the point.”

She grabbed the collar of her robes with her free hand and pulled it down. Darek grimaced when he saw the thick, scythe-shaped scar at the base of her neck. It looked old, like it had been there for a while, but Darek could not recall ever seeing that scar on her neck before.

“See this?” said Aorja, stroking the scar with one finger. “This is the symbol of the Ghostly God. It's a symbol he carves into the flesh of every servant who agrees to work for him. The scar symbolizes his power, the kind of power that he could use to utterly destroy us if he wanted to.”

“It's an ugly scar,” said Jiku, whose eyes were still focused on Aorja's wand. “Why would you ruin your skin with such an ugly thing?”

“Because the Ghostly God demanded it,” said Aorja. “When I went to work for him, he carved it into my flesh. When you work for the Ghostly God, you generally work for him for life. And, if the rumors are true, beyond life.”

“The Ghostly God,” said Darek. “I don't think I've ever heard of him. Is he a southern god?”