Traitor Savant (Second Seal of the Duelists) (20 page)

Doc Theo
blinked at the waterfall of information washing over him. He’d picked up another fact or two, and Tala was safe.
Best I can do, belike. My last act as a free man. Or is it? Liselot said “we.”
We’re
on the cusp.

The clue didn’t exactly thud into place
. His instinctive guess could be wrong, but he had no other choices, no more time, and nothing to lose. “You think he loves you, don’t you?”

Liselot paused in the act of drawing a pair of crystals from side pouches on her belt. “Excuse me?”

It was Doc Theo’s turn to offer a pitying look. “I’m sorry to see you fall this far, and in this manner. You see, the only person Ignaas witten Oost loves is himself.”

Liselot’s icy glare could have
frozen him to death on the spot. She barked out the notes to a portal song. It opened from her dim office into a black hollow, inside which Doc Theo couldn’t make out any detail whatsoever. When she spoke, her voice was chill rage. “Get in.”

Doc Theo
sighed and turned toward the portal. After a lifetime of healing, he couldn’t even entertain the thought of fighting back. A futile effort against a singer, anyway. Tala might never learn what happened to him. Maybe she deserved to forget him. He stepped through the portal and found a cold but even floor in the darkness. He turned and faced Liselot.
Let her look at what she’s doing. Let her remember it.

They stared at one another for a long moment. Then
Liselot sang a light song, and Doc Theo’s surroundings lit from an amorphous glow above him. The First Singer clamped her hands on her crystals, and Doc Theo’s view of her was replaced by a smooth stone wall.

He found
himself in a small room about three strides in every dimension. A pile of blankets lay heaped in one corner. A wide, lidded stoneware pot served as the necessary in the opposite corner. In the center of the room rested a small pitcher and an empty plate. Doc Theo took hope from their presence that he might be fed rather than being left to starve.

He
examined the walls, the ceiling, and the floor. His new room had no door.

Liselot hadn’t put him in new sleeping quarters. She hadn’t even stuck him in a proper dungeon cell. She’d gone and hidden him in an oubliette.

“No, you’re not listening.” Kiwani gave Bayan and Eward an exasperated glance. “It’s not
what
he’s teaching, it’s
why
he’s teaching it. Why he’s teaching at
all
.”

Eward raised a confused eyebrow.
“You mean besides wanting to impart his wisdom and decades of knowledge and experience to future generations of duelists?”

“Yes, Eward, besides that,” Kiwani said with mock patience.

Bayan gave her a confused glance. “I’m not sure I follow.”

Kiwani leaned across the breakfast table. “You’ve seen how he picks favorites in class. How Calder is one of them? Hasn’t it ever occurred to you why he does that?”

Bayan exchanged a glance with Eward. “No,” they both said.

“Look,” Bayan added. “You’re our expert on political stuff. Just explain it so we
understand.”

Kiwani marshaled her thoughts.
“Everyone has a motive for everything they do. Think about the emotions we shared with each other when we began our Savant training. Those emotions are our motivation. They’re what drive us.”

“Are you saying the master is a
Savant?” Eward asked, wide-eyed.

“No. Maybe. But that’s not my point. I’m saying that he’s picking and choosing students to join his classes, and once they
are under his thrall, he chooses favorites. Those favorites have to be benefiting him in some way. It has nothing to do with magnanimously sharing his knowledge and wisdom with the world.”

“Calder’s bragged about how nice the things are
in the master’s office. Offices.” Bayan said. Kiwani nodded. She knew the master had one office for teaching and one for running the school, and Calder was the only person she knew who had been in both of them. “He must be getting his fancy decorations through his former students, and maybe their friends and clients, too.”

“He can’t be going through all this trouble
just for a few nice pieces of furniture.” Kiwani frowned. “He’s up to something, and we—well, you—are the key. I don’t have to know exactly what he wants from me to realize he’s trying to take it without my knowing. That’s what I see. That’s why I left.”

Bayan leaned back into his chair. “He’s been teaching for longer than any of us have been alive. That’s a lot of students.”

“Whatever he’s using them for,” Eward said, “it must be huge by now.”

“
He’s a very patient man. He was raised in a noble household. He’s lived long enough to witness the forceful way the Waarden put down revolution. We’re too young to remember the Raqtaaq Wars, but all the teachers, our parents, even Doc Theo—they lived it. And so did Master witten Oost. If he wants to slip any revolutionary plans past the watchful eyes of the empire, he has to keep them secret and silent,” Kiwani said.

“
Until his opportune moment, that is,” Bayan said. “We don’t want to let a plan that dangerous get that close to happening again.”

Kiwani tipped her head in acknowledgment of his point. The rebels they’d fought last spring at the Kheerzaal had kept their plans secret for years before they struck. A seemingly cowed rebel princess had turned out to be a crazed murderess
. She’d nearly killed Bayan before anyone realized the extent of her plans. Kiwani wasn’t willing to let that happen again. “Why don’t we go ask someone who’s been a part of it for awhile?”

“What? Who? Why would they talk to us?” Eward asked.

Kiwani gave Bayan a sweet, triumphant smile. “Because Bayan traded with him for tutoring lessons last year, and because right now, there’s nothing he wants more than to join our hex.”

~~~

Bayan caught his breath and let Puffball Idle in the air above him. Taban’s Static was an enormous, nearly invisible avatar who wafted all around his tegen, who in this case was Bayan, and made it difficult to see Taban’s Shock attacks before they zapped him and made him jump like a panicked rabbit in a typhoon.

“Got you where I want you, aye Bayan?” Taban
grinned. He didn’t seem nearly as out of breath as Bayan felt.

“Looks that way. Now, if only I had a bigger avatar. This little ball of lightning is fast, but it’s hard to occupy a spot in the sky if Static is already in it.”

“Now you’re thinking like an Avatar Duelist, hexling.” Lazy approval filled Taban’s voice.

“You planned
Static’s size from the first time you summoned him?”

“Aye, ‘course I did. If you’re not thinking ahead, you’re lagging behind. One of my many useful mottos in life.”

Bayan lowered his voice so the other students in the Shock Arena couldn’t hear him over the crackling and buzzing of their avatars. “Is that why you joined the underground network that got you all those firedust supplies for me last year?”

Taban paused, eyeing Bayan with distaste at the new turn in the conversation. “Aye,” he finally said, keeping his tone light. “It seemed prudent.”

“And who let you know that the network existed?”

“That was Braam, noble fool that he was
.”

Bayan’s lip curled. Braam may have been a noble son of the empire, but he had also been a
potion addict who had gotten into an illegal duel with Bayan’s hexmate Odjin, resulting in the expulsion of them both.

“Aye, charming, wasn’t he?” Taban continued. “Thought he could bully this son of a tanner into crafting trade goods for him, but I was having none of that. I got in on my own merits, and I’ve stayed here ever since.”

“Is that all the network is for? Trading goods?”

Taban gave him a knowing smile, then let his avatar fade and walked to the edge of the arena for some water. Bayan followed.

“You’re not asking because you want something this time.” Taban took a gulp of water from the dipper that rested atop the water barrel. “You’re watching for something. I know, because I’ve been watching
you
. What are you looking for, hexling?”

Bayan
turned his gaze to the arena sand, to where Tarin and Calder hurled bolts at each other via their avatars. They hadn’t worked out with anyone but each other for a while. He saw Kiwani, safe, sound, and completely unable to remember what happened to her while she had been locked in the mountain. Had it really been Instructor Jurgen who’d kidnapped her, or was the attack on her part of something bigger and darker, still lurking on campus? He turned to Taban. “I’m looking for the biggest picture I can find, Taban. The little pictures I see don’t make any sense.”

Tab
an grinned. “I can respect that. And the network will help you.”

“
No.
You
will.”

Taban’s dark brows flicked upward.
“Oh, it’s to me, is it?”

“It’s to you. Tell me as much as you can, and you can join our hex tonight.” Bayan hated to play that card, but it was the only one Kiwani had said would work for sure.

Taban’s smile faded. He leaned close. “You
are
up to something, hexling.”

Bayan didn’t look away.
“In or out, Taban?”

Taban gave his lips a pensive pout. “This, I have to see. I’m in.”

“I’m listening. What is the network really for?”

“I’d not dream of asking its creator personally, but had I a guess—an educated guess formed over the past two years—I’d wager my last ducat that ducats are not the
goal.”

“If not money, then what?”

“The best currency a civilized empire can have.” Taban held out the dipper to Bayan, who took it but didn’t drink. “Information. Can you see it?” He smoothed his hand through the air as if wiping condensation from a window. “Out there, across the empire, a massive web of details. Who, what, where, when, why. All at the fingertips of one man. All available with the tug of a strand or two. Does he put information into his web, or does he glean from it? Maybe he wraps some of it up for later and leaves it dangling from the ceiling beams of his office.”

Bayan gave him a look
of distaste.

Taban grinned. “
My point is, anyone with that much access to the inner workings of the empire has a million chances to control history. Why else would he be sitting alone up here on this mountain? Because he
can
, Bayan. Because the empire’s only living Master Duelist can sit anywhere he likes. Now come, little hexling, and let me make you hop about on the sand some more.”

~~~

Bayan and his hexmates jogged across campus toward the Wind Arena. As they passed a pair of Kiwani’s former noble friends, the other duelists hushed and glared as only rich girls could. Bayan glanced as Kiwani, but she only raised her chin.

Wh
ile they passed through a small, empty clearing, Calder said, “We canna keep stalling on our Savantism. We’ll just have to finish it during classes. Our exams are coming up quick.”

Bayan heard the unyielding tone in his voice, and despite their
past disagreements, he found himself agreeing. He’d formally invited Taban into the hex without consulting anyone aside from Kiwani that morning, and Calder wasn’t happy about that either. But no one, including Bayan, trusted Taban enough to tell him about the Savantism yet, leaving the hex in a bind as far as training the rest of their magic for the looming test.

“We need to decide our plan today,” Tarin said. “The instructors will meet tonight to approve Taban’s transfer. We canna have him hanging around, listening in while we decide this.”

“I like Calder’s plan,” Eward said. “It’s the easiest. Some of us still have elemental spells to bond, but we can just say they’re refreshers if someone asks why we’re not performing Avatar spells. Right?”

Before Bayan could respond, someone called his name,
and footsteps hurried to catch up from behind.

Bayan turned to see the ardent Nunaa
trainee, Sivutma, jogging to join them. “Is it true? You dropped out of Master witten Oost’s classes too?”

Bayan shared a look with Kiwani.
Why did the trainee care what Bayan did with his class schedule? “Yes. He wasn’t teaching what I needed to learn.”

Calder made an exasperated noise but said nothing.

Sivutma frowned at him. “I can’t believe you’d give up everything he has to offer! He’s already asked me to join in his beginner classes as soon as I pass my basics. I’m one of only three in my class to be selected. It’s so exciting! The future is there for me to grasp, and Master witten Oost is going to show me how. It’s what I’ve been looking for on this campus since I got here: someone who has the answers to the big questions.”

“More than you know, Sivutma,” Bayan replied.

She ignored his heavy tone, pressing on with her advocacy. “I’d hoped to take those classes with you. I think you’d better reconsider leaving. His students say the master is very disappointed in you and your… ” she looked to Kiwani, “…negative influences.”

Kiwani crossed her arms. “Little girl, don’t pick up every shiny rock you find. Most of them are worthless.”

Sivutma gave a snorting laugh. “That’s your response? I have to wonder whether you didn’t just have the filthing luck of the gods, with that battle falling into your lap the way it did. You don’t deserve your fame. Any of you.” She walked away, head high.

Bayan gave Kiwani a puzzled look
. Her expression was cautious. “You see what he’s doing.”

“What?
What’s he doing?” Calder’s tone prowled like an angry cat, ready to pounce.

Kiwani shot him a cold glance, then met Bayan’s eyes. “He’s replacing
us
with more gullible students.”

~~~

Bayan and his hexmates met Taban at the outer edge of the Wind Arena’s tunnel. Taban’s eyes sparked with glee, no doubt anticipating the morrow, when he’d be a full member of a hex of six again. Within the arena, a surprise awaited. Not only was Instructor Wekshi present, but Paat, the Hexmagic Instructor who had taken over Master witten Oost’s classes, was there as well, dressed in workout blues. Bayan’s eyes were drawn to the elemental and avatar tattoos on the man’s hands. The instructors were all Avatar Duelists and sported similar tattoos, but Paat had one rank on them. Bayan recalled a long-ago conversation with then-Headmaster Langlaren regarding the privilege of Hexmagic Duelists to form any symbol they liked, anywhere they liked, as evidence of their rank. He wondered what image Paat would choose to produce, if asked.
I have no idea what I’d pick if I reached that rank. The way things are going right now, maybe I shouldn’t bother hoping to achieve it anymore.

“Today, we’re going to have a bit of fun
.” Wekshi bounced on her toes. “Your hex has formally requested the addition of a sixth member, and when we convene this evening, barring another rebel insurrection, we will approve Taban’s transfer. All six of you have shown that you can create an avatar in every element with at least some control. So today, Hexmagic Instructor Paat is going to show you how to blend your magic with that of your hexmates. If you can’t manage it today, don’t worry. It won’t affect your Avatar testing at all. But you’ve all been working very hard these past seasons, and it’s rare that the Academy gets a full hex up for Avatar testing, so… Well, we just couldn’t wait any longer. We’re all pretty excited for you.”