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Chapter Two
What Lies Beneath
Aerysius, The Rhen
Braden scrubbed his hands through his hair, fuming as he paced the length of the chamber. A dozen or more jumbled thoughts churned in his head, making it all but impossible to chase any single one of them. He glanced sideways at Merris, who sat across the room from him busily scribing away at the writing desk. She sat hunched over, thoroughly engrossed in her task.
Braden swirled the wine in his cup absently. His eyes darted to Sephana, who stood gazing out the window into the dark, rain-clad night. Her hand lingered beside her face, absently stroking a lock of her red-gold hair between her fingers. She had changed into a pale green dress with rose embroidery, the affair covered by her black Master’s cloak with the Silver Star of Aerysius embroidered on the back.
“Merris, if you please…” Sephana groaned, eyes sparkling with irritation.
“Almost done,” the girl muttered, not bothering to look up from her work.
Braden tossed his head back and downed a mouthful of wine.
“There,” Merris announced, setting her quill down on the writing table with finality.
Braden crossed the room toward her in two large strides. He scooped the parchment she had been working on up in his hand and held it before his face. His eyes hastily scanned the lavish, flowing script of the message, lingering for a moment on the signature at the bottom, then read back over the whole affair one more time.
“Remarkable,” he muttered at last. The letter could have been written by the prime warden’s own hand. The signature was a perfect forgery. Braden had carried enough of Cyrus Krane’s letters back to the Lyceum to know that Merris was a marvel.
“The prime warden is too busy to sign every slip of parchment that crosses his desk,” the young woman explained. “I’ve been rendering his signature for months, but recently he’s had me drafting most of his official documents, as well. He’s scarcely ever in his office of late.”
Braden scanned the letter one last time, just to be sure. “This will do,” he assured her. He rolled the parchment up into a scroll. “We should try to copy his seal.”
“There’s no time,” Sephana hissed from the window. A flash of lightning briefly illuminated her face, making her eyes gleam from the shadows. “She has to go now.”
Braden nodded. He handed Merris back the scroll along with three other documents he had drafted earlier. “The first letter is for the guard on the Lyceum side of the portal,” he explained to her hastily. “Without that introduction, you’ll likely end up dead or in a cell. The second letter is for Grand Master Quinlan Reis, my brother. Ask for him the moment you arrive. The third letter is for Prime Warden Renquist. Use it only as a last resort. Give it to Quin, and he’ll know when it’s time to pass it along.”
Merris’s eyes darkened with uncertainty as she received the scrolls into her hand, glancing quickly at Sephana in concern. “I didn’t realize that I’d be asked to commit treason.”
“Oh, do shut up, Merris,” Sephana growled irritably. “Just pass the damn letters. If Prime Warden Krane is compromised, then don’t you suppose Renquist has a right to know before he commits his mages to a war?”
“Yes, I suppose…” Merris said, sounding altogether unconvinced. She shoved Braden’s letters into the inside pocket of her cloak, retaining only the one scroll she had forged in her grasp.
“Then let’s be about it.” Braden set his empty cup down on the writing desk. He was already halfway to the door when Sephana’s voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Wait.”
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He turned, brows raised in question.
“Go softly,” she muttered. “You have no idea what they already suspect. I’ll meet you by the fountain.”
Braden acknowledged her only with a troubled nod.
He cracked the door open and peered out, glancing up and down the length of the hallway. It was empty; most of the Masters were asleep in their beds at this hour of the night. Beckoning to Merris, he strolled casually out of Sephana’s suite toward a wide spiral stair.
It was a long way down to the Chamber of Egress in the lowest subbasement below the Hall of the Watchers. Braden trailed his hand along the wooden rail as he hurried down the stairs, Merris following behind in his wake. They made no attempt at conversation; the descent was taxing.
Braden loathed the way Aerysius was spread out so vertically; the spire of the Hall was just an acute exaggeration of the rest of the city. Aerysius was built into the granite face of a mountain precipice, its towers and arches sequestered high in the clouds. Its streets were often switchbacks, contorted with many bridges and skyramps that spanned the mountainside.
Braden longed for the sprawling balconies of the Lyceum that overlooked the dark waters of the sea. He missed Caladorn, missed the expansive openness of the plains, its fragrant gardens and fertile orchards. In Bryn Calazar, his spirit had always felt free and unconfined, so unlike the imprisoning embrace of mountain-born Aerysius, where he had spent the past nine years of his life.
Wistfully, Braden mused that his time in Aerysius was most likely coming to an end.
His thoughts drifted to Sephana as his feet continued to carry him, spiraling, down the stairs. Both of them had known from the beginning that their affair was destined to be but a temporary thing. But that didn’t mean that he had to be happy about leaving. His feelings for Sephana ran far deeper than he cared to admit.
Braden glanced back at Merris. She was nimbly following behind without complaint, having no trouble keeping up. She was strong and vigorous with youth. She would have need of both those qualities in the very near future. Life for a young woman in Caladorn was extremely different from anything she was used to. Merris had grown up sheltered by the coddling ways of the Rhen. In the Lyceum, she would be forced to explore facets of herself she had never yet encountered. Either she would survive and flourish or she would fail; either way, she would be empowered. Her destiny would be completely in her own hands.
The stairs finally ended in a wide hallway at a level below the ground floor. Here, Merris pulled up short, as if hesitant to move off the last marble step. Braden turned back to her, seeing how her eyes darted nervously up and down the corridor. He understood her agitation; that same hallway led to the prime warden’s own solar. Placing a steadying hand on her shoulder, Braden guided her down the passage in the opposite direction.
“Keep your mind focused,” he advised under his breath. “We’re almost there.”
Merris nodded, biting her lip. “Will it hurt?”
Braden shook his head. “No. There will be no pain. It’s actually very quick.”
Again, Merris nodded. Her brow was furrowed with doubt.
As they turned a corner, he leaned into her and whispered, “Remember my brother. Ask for him first, before anything else. The Lyceum is not Aerysius; you will be in need of his guidance. You don’t want to be snatched up by just any passing mage. In fact, I’d advise you not to speak with anyone at all until you find Quin.”
They rounded a corner and were confronted by a closed door ahead. Braden shoved it open, allowing Merris to pass through before he followed. “If you get into trouble, I mean real trouble, find the biggest man around and ask him to take you under his protection,” Braden advised as he guided Merris toward the opening of another stair. “He’ll have no choice but to defend you. It’s a matter of sharaq, what we call honor. If you can get his word, any man will defend you to the death.”
Braden continued to guide Merris forward with the pressure of his hand on her back. He could feel the tension in her shoulders; she was frightened. Perhaps even frightened enough to balk. They were well below the Hall of the Watchers, in the levels carved out of the mountain centuries before the Hall was ever built or even imagined. This room, as well as those beneath it, had been cut out of solid rock by the first mages who had come to dwell in this high place. It was ancient, almost as ancient as the mountain itself.
He took her hand, squeezing her fingers in reassurance, and led her down another flight of stairs. At the base of the steps, he guided her across a dim foyer to a large door, feeling Merris’s hand trembling in his grasp.
“This is it,” he told her gently. “You have nothing to fear. It’s not as bad as you’re imagining.”
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
Braden nodded, knowing she had every right to be. He placed a comforting hand on her arm. “This is as far as I go. I’m sorry, but I can’t take the risk of being seen with you.”
Merris nodded. Then, perhaps on impulse, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the whiskers of his cheek.
“Thank you, Ambassador,” she said, smiling shyly. “I really do appreciate all you’ve done. And don’t worry; I will deliver your letters. Is there anything else you’d like me to tell your brother for you?”
Braden shook his head with a scowl. “No. Absolutely nothing. And don’t worry; you’ll do just fine.”
He drew himself up and offered her a formal bow. Then he turned and strode away.
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