Bound Page 2

  The Academy had been built to resemble a castle, in order to remind the nobility of the empire of the privileged place Magicia held in their society. There were four towers, two occupied by the headmaster and deputy headmaster, the third reserved for any special meetings that might take place at the school. Granting the fourth tower to Ganson when he came to Voleno was a mark of respect, an acknowledgment of all he had done for Magicia and the Empire in his many years as an ambassador for the Imperial Throne before he had turned to teaching.

  Fay knocked on the large wooden door at the top of the stairs with the heavy bronze ring. After a moment, a small older woman opened the door. Ivanne smiled and said, "Ah, how excellent to see you, Fay. Please, come in, my dear. The professor has been expecting you."

  Fay nodded a greeting and tried to pass Ivanne as quickly as she could, but the other woman laid a gentle hand on her arm, surprising her and nearly causing her to flinch. The gesture itself was unusual. Though she tried to hide the unease she always felt around her mentor's assistant, she often wondered if Ivanne was aware of it. Normally, the older woman kept her distance where possible and never touched her like this. Ivanne wasn't to blame for the reaction, but neither could Fay help it. She worked instead to minimize the outward signs of it. Across her years there, she thought she'd become good at it. Certainly, she'd had plenty of practice. Ivanne had been Ganson's assistant for over forty years, and Fay had witnessed how much he relied on Ivanne. This had, unfortunately, made Ivanne a frequent part of her education, and Fay had been unwilling to ask for that to change, not when her reasons were so selfish.

  As if sensing her reaction, Ivanne withdrew her hand quickly. In a kind voice, she said, "I was sorry to hear how things fell out with your father at the ceremony. I've always hoped he would come around for you, even at that last moment."

  "Thank you, Ivanne," Fay responded, trying not to sound stiff but hearing it in her voice anyway. "But I think that was too much to ask for. I see Professor Ganson has left the door of the study open. I'll see myself in."

  She pretended not to see Ivanne's disapproval of her curtness while she walked over and slipped into the room that was like a second home to her within the academy. Her eyes roamed the shelves, aware that she might not see them again for a long while, if ever. So many artifacts of the professor's prior life were arrayed around the room. Although she knew many of their stories, some were still mysteries to her. Awards and gifts from the three Emperors he had served in the one hundred and forty-three years since his own graduation sat beside other artifacts collected during years of scholarly research. She knew that her mentor's life had taken him across the length and breadth of the known world, beyond even the vastness of the Rianzire Empire. She had never understood why, in the prime of his life, he had given it all up to teach, but she was grateful for it.

  As her eyes swept the shelves, she found herself staring at a particular object, the strange pendant covered with a glass bell jar. She knew the special glass such jars were made of held protective enchantments, and this one hummed with extra spellwork she suspected was designed to seal it. She didn’t understand why such lengths were taken with this particular object, nor why it held such fascination for her above everything else in the room, drawing her eye every time. All she knew was that it seemed familiar, as if she was on the verge of remembering where she had seen it before and that she often experience a desire to hold it. She'd never asked, of course, nor mentioned her reaction to Ganson. She didn't know how to explain it to him. The pendant itself offered no clues either. It was made up of two lengths of silver shaped to look like folded ribbons looped through each other, one covered in obsidian crystals, the other with white enamel. The interlocking loops were further bound by a ring of polished iron. A delicate silver chain was attached to either end of the obsidian ribbon. It was pretty, but it was far from the most beautiful piece of jewelry Fay had ever seen. Even so, she found she had to work to keep her eyes from it whenever she was in this room and even that wasn’t working at that moment.

  "I'm so glad you were able to join me tonight, Fay. I won't have you going off to live the rest of your life without a chance to say goodbye."

  Professor Ganson had been sitting at a small table set for a formal dinner, but now he stood and came over to her, distracting her from the pendant. They embraced and he led her over to the table without a word. After settling her into a chair, he resumed his seat. Rolling his sleeves up to keep his green linen shirt from getting dirtied, he uncovered a small basket of still-warm rolls and offered them to her. As he buttered his own, he continued speaking.

  "It feels so strange to not be your teacher anymore. The past four years have gone so quickly, and I find myself unprepared for their end."

  She laughed and said, "You will always be my mentor, Professor. I don't think it matters how far I go or what I do. You've left your mark on this humble student."

  He harrumphed. "Humble, ha! You're the most brilliant student I've ever met, Fay, with both intellectual acuity and magical strength to spare. You've no need to be humble."

  She frowned at this. "Don't I? I appreciate your admittedly biased opinion of me, but we both know that isn't the point. I still have no prospects now that I'm graduated. As I said at my graduation, nothing seems to matter except my unbound status."

  "Well, that's their idiocy, this idea that only bound Magicia are worthy. You're stronger than many I've met even when they were working directly with their partner, let alone on their own after the bond has had its effect. I've a mind to see if I can't arrange something. You know that I am not without influence and there are a number of people I could get in touch with to-"

  "No, thank you," she said softly, cutting him off. This was not a new topic and there had already been too much mutual stubbornness in their previous discussions. "I'll find something on my own, Professor. Please, could we talk about something else?"

  Ganson watched her as he chewed. "Then tell me what your immediate plans are. I would like to know where to find you once you leave. I want to be able to keep in touch with my favorite student, after all. And when are you planning to leave? Speak to me of these things, if we can't discuss the others."

  "Tomorrow. I'm leaving early in the afternoon. Before I go, I have to see Professor Siveth and ask him about storing my belongings in my old room for a little while longer, at least until I have some idea of where I'll need them."

  "Then where are you going?" he pressed. Given the years together and the close relationship they had shared, his insistence about knowing her plans should have seemed natural, yet it didn't entirely. This was the same man who had once told her that she should live in the moment more and worry about plans less, that the future would always be there for her.

  "In spite of what I told my father, I thought I might go back and collect some things from Iondis that I-"

  "No!" he said forcefully, his face alarmed for a moment before he regained control of himself. "No, I don't think that's a good idea." He seemed to grope for something more to say as she stared at him, shocked by the outburst. "What I mean is that Calder would likely misinterpret it as you being there because he wants you there. I don't believe that would be in your interests, as you'd only have to fight the same battle with him regarding your independence all over again when you wanted to leave."

  Ganson had his equanimity back entirely now, but the slip was the first she had seen in her four years with him. He looked uncomfortable with her scrutiny. "Have you given a thought to what professional pursuits you would be interested in, Fay? I know you don't want me to help you secure a position, but perhaps I can offer some guidance, advice on a path."

  She pushed aside her misgivings about his outburst. "I haven't made any decisions, no. I've considered my options, the things where I might be accepted as an unbound Magicia. Maybe I'll teach others, pass on the gift you've spent these years giving me. Or research. Surely there's need for researchers who can go anywhere they might need to, free from a
ny partner's obligations. I'm not really sure. I'll admit that none of the ideas that occurred to me are my first choice, but it's clear the things I might wish aren't an option without a partner."

  She heard a sound, metal rattling on porcelain, approaching the door a moment before Ivanne entered the room carrying a tray with two covered plates in. She set the plates in front of each of them, whisked the covers off to reveal savory roast pheasant and vegetables. Fay didn't move until Ivanne left the room and had closed the door of the study behind her.

  Ganson was watching her again as she reached for her fork. "You know, I always thought that you would become used to Ivanne as most people do, but if anything, it's gotten worse over the years. You always become so still when you see her. Why?"

  Fay set the fork down and returned her hands to her lap, where she gripped the napkin she'd laid there. She considered how much she wanted to say as she twisted the cloth around her fingers. When she answered, she kept her voice quiet. "I always worry that there's nothing more for me than a life like hers. Ivanne seems happy enough as an unbound Magicia, but I don't think I could be in her place. But what if I never get a chance at more?" She took a deep breath and the rest flooded out of her before she could stop it. "You said that we would talk about it, and tonight might be our last chance. Professor, why do I refuse to chose a partner? It isn't as if I've never had a reaction. They've been weak, pale in comparison to how I've heard others describe their own, but wouldn't that be better than not being able to accomplish anything based on something so stupid as not having a partner at all?"

  "Do you really want to be bound forever to someone you may end up despising for not being a worthy partner? I can tell you that there are those who regret the choice they make, but they cannot unmake it. Is it perhaps wiser to be choosey, to have a care who you make the offer to or accept it from? I wonder if we do a disservice to the children who come through the academies by pressuring them to make such an irrevocable choice that they have neither the knowledge, the experience, nor the wisdom to understand." There was a bitterness to his tone that she had never heard before. Ganson never discussed his own partner, and though she had always assumed it was out of sensitivity to her situation, she was beginning to think she might be wrong. After a moment, he went on, "Beyond that, Fay, you would not be the first person I’ve ever met to find their partner later in life. Those I’ve known who did so actually seem happier to me than those who jump at the first offer."

  "I didn't jump at the first offer. Or the second. There have been a few," she admitted reluctantly as Ganson watched her closely, his surprise barely registering in his eyes before he controlled it. "I just can't imagine having chosen any of them. I tried, truly I did, Professor, but something inside me turned away before I could give it more than a cursory thought. While I'll admit I might find someone out there I'd have a more powerful reaction to, I somehow doubt it would make any difference. I'm not sure why I think that, but I do. For some reason, I find it incredibly difficult to consider partnering with anyone and I need to understand why, given the life it may condemn me to."

  She could feel her emotions teetering at the edge of her control and struggled to calm herself. As if sensing this, Ganson didn't speak for several moments, pulling apart his own pheasant instead and taking a bite before responding. "Perhaps it's something more to do with your father, then, rather than simply a fear of being bound. You told me before that he impressed on you many times as a child the importance of choosing the right partner. While you know how much I dislike agreeing with him on anything, I'm not sure he's wrong about that. Putting that aside though, I have often wondered if those early lessons are the source of this hesitancy."

  She found her mind cleared by having final spoken aloud her fears and worries. Able to at last think past these things, she considered closely what he was suggesting. Part of her was repelled by the idea that her father might still have any control over her behavior, but she forced herself to examine the possibility as she used her fork to pick at the carrots and beans on the plate. She took a bite to buy herself more time to think. Finally, she said, "No, I don't think it's that. Not entirely at least. Father said on many occasions that I should have the highest standards for a partner. That's always been the important thing to him, so far as I can tell. What you're suggesting is different, I think. And it doesn't matter, because I doubt either is the case. This feels more general to me, almost like I'm avoiding it completely. I have trouble even thinking about it. When I was younger, I wanted to prove that you didn't have to have a partner in order to do well, and for the longest time, I thought that's all it was. That idea is still there for me, the desire to show everyone that I can be something without conforming to their vision of what my life has to be. But this last year, it's been harder to ignore the rest, especially this sense that there's more to it."

  She hadn't forgotten the implication from their conversation before the reception that there was more that Ganson knew and she was trying to prod him toward telling her what it was. The thought had occurred to her the day before that he might be able to explain it all to her, but she saw the same misgiving in his face that she'd heard before in his voice. She was determined to get at least some of the answers though, so she watched him carefully. He kept silent for several minutes, not meeting her eyes. Eventually, he spoke, though with the greatest reluctance.

  "So, now we come to this conversation. I think I'd always hoped we might somehow avoid this, even though I understood how necessary it is. Even today, I wanted to at least get through dinner without having to dig into this subject, but I should have known better. In four years, I've never known you to go slow when you could sprint. They told me I'd likely be the one to have to tell you, but I don't relish it." He paused, clearly gathering himself for something unpleasant and Fay wondered if she should stop him, only to realize that she couldn't. She needed to know. "It does have to do with Calder though. I've never told you why I dislike your father as I do, but I will have to now, for it involves what he has done to you, including the effect on your ability to decide certain things for yourself. When you were-" Ganson broke off as voices raised in argument erupted in the foyer.

  The door of the study was thrown open and a man of average height with short salt and pepper hair stomped through it. His clothes were decently made but his style was obviously defined by indifference and they looked more than a little rumpled. A light cloak still hung about his shoulders, though Ivanne trailed after him, spluttering about his insistence on seeing Ganson immediately. He stopped beside the table, his dark eyes focused with piercing scrutiny on Ganson, who was frowning at him.

  "Dal, you're interrupting an important discussion," Ganson said disapprovingly.

  "Hang the discussion, there's no time for it. The man's starting to move already, something I didn't think he was ready for. I still don't, but something's happened that seems to have forced his hand. I told you Derrion would continue to be trouble, despite the girl graduating."

  "Dal Brinds," Ganson said in a loud, firm voice. "I'd like you to meet my former student-"

  "Hang the student too. Samell, we've got to move now, only I can't see how. I've no idea what he's up to, but we have to stop him. If they get their hands on her and the pendant, it's all done. I know that much." Brinds paused for a breath. "You once said you had a plan to get her away if we needed to. Will it still work or do I need to think up something else?"

  Ganson looked more angry now that Fay had ever seen him. "You're an idiot, Dal," he hissed at the man before taking a deep breath. Ivanne took Brinds' cloak now that he was standing still and she left the room. Ganson went on in a calmer voice. "Let me introduce you to Faylanna Derrion, my former student and now friend. Fay, this is Dal Brinds, my often excitable partner."

  Several things happened at once then. Brinds looked down at her, his face full of surprise. Ganson was beginning to rise from his chair when one of the glass jars in the room shattered loudly. Fay slid off her chair instinct
ively at the detonation. After a moment she raised her head and saw a cloud of darkness pouring out of the shattered remains of the bell jar. She stared in disbelief and confusion. How could the jar have been weakened enough for this without Ganson detecting it?

  As the dark mist poured down the shelf to pool on the floor, tendrils formed and reached out toward Ganson and Brinds. Both men were shouting, but Fay thought that the explosion must have damaged her hearing because she couldn't make out what they were saying. Every sound was a heavily muffled buzzing to her. Ganson was looking around frantically and relief flood across his face when he saw her. He stepped toward her, grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up to her feet. He was looking in her eyes and she saw his lips moving, but she still couldn't make out the words. When she didn't respond, he shook her, said something, then pulled her away from the table. Around his shoulder, she saw the tendrils strike out at Brinds, wrapping around his arms and torso. He opened his mouth and she heard a muffled sound that might have been a scream. The smell of brimstone and burning cloth and flesh pricked her nose, making her stomach roil until she was glad she hadn’t eaten much of their dinner. The shadowy appendages pulled Brinds into the roiling mass that was still growing and this time his scream was so loud that she heard it with horrifying clarity.

  Ganson looked back over his shoulder, flinching as Brinds disappeared into the darkness. He turned back to Fay, shouted something and then shoved her back toward the open door of the room. He took two steps away from her, toward the black shifting mass. She wanted to reach out to stop him, but she was frozen in place. She wasn't sure what he was planning, but it was faster. Thickening arms of darkness whipped out more quickly than she would have believed possible and wrapped around the professor's body and head like bands, pinning his arms to his sides and cutting off any scream he might have tried to make. The smells came again, thicker, closer and she gagged on them, trying desperately not to throw up. The darkness flexed, pulling Ganson into itself as rapidly as it had attacked him and then began to advance on her.