Summoner 16, page 4
“Really?” the moose kid asked, and his demeanor brightened. “My own place? That is good news. You should have used that.”
“I just did.” I shrugged. Then I jerked my chin toward the horses. “Stay close, don’t stray away from the carriage.”
“The people are staring at me,” Mur observed as he trotted over to stand beside the horses.
He was right. Several people walking past had stopped to stare at the moose as we’d talked in the language of the clans. It took me a minute to process their shocked faces and open-mouthed amazement, and then suddenly understanding dawned.
Mur talked, and I’d almost forgotten it wasn’t a trait shared by most moose. I just wished he could speak Mistral already so I wasn’t always having to translate everything for him.
“Just keep your head down,” I instructed. “We’ll be behind the walls of the Academy soon.”
Maelor watched closely without trying to seem obvious, and I could tell he was burning with curiosity. A few new tattoos, a weird woman talking about babies, and a moose who could speak.
And I hadn’t even summoned my familiar yet.
I’d kept my cat-like beast in his crystal during the final leg of our journey, and for once the monster was quiet within his container. I could sense his contented snores, but I knew he would get bored and claustrophobic soon.
Maelor was right. I’d changed a lot since I’d left Mistral. It seemed like ages ago when I was a simple construction worker, traveling from town to town with the old man, doing what needed to be done then moving on. We were drifters back then, but now I had a home, and the realization hit me like a ton of bricks.
I was home.
I climbed into the carriage with the biggest smile I’d ever worn, and I squeezed into the tight compartment beside my friends. The buggy sat four adults comfortably, if elbow to elbow, but there were nine of us going to the Academy, so I assumed we would take more than one.
When I ducked my head and entered the shadowy plush interior, I was greeted by Maelor, Arwyn, Cyra, and Freya. The three women squeezed together on one bench, so the old man sat alone on the opposite side.
I eyed my lovers suspiciously as I took the empty spot beside my father figure, but they only gave me innocent smiles.
“Everything go okay with Mur?” Cyra questioned with laughter dancing in her chocolate eyes.
“That’s the talking moose guy’s name?” Maelor snorted.
“Moose Clan name not good.” Freya nodded firmly in agreement with the old man. “Hawk Clan name better. Like Freya, and Vahla.”
“Freya is a good name,” Maelor replied with a warm smile, and then he elbowed me in the ribs. “She sure is pretty, Gryff.”
“Oh, this should be good,” Cyra chuckled. “I’ve been looking forward to Maelor finding out.”
“Finding out what?” Maelor lifted his eyebrows as he gave me a pointed look.
I worked the muscle in my jaw. There wasn’t enough time to cover all my recent life changes during the span of this carriage ride.
“I was hoping Nia would be here, too,” I said in a hesitant tone. “Like I said, we’d need a keg and an entire night.”
“Give me the highlights,” the old man insisted, and he crossed his arms over his chest with a stubborn air.
“Okay.” I grimaced and raked a hand through my hair. I hadn’t expected to be so nervous to tell Maelor about my experiences. “So, I guess I should start with my wife--”
“Yer what?” Maelor guffawed, and spittle sprayed from his mouth. His eyes shot to Freya’s face, but the warrior princess maintained her stoic demeanor despite my father figure’s surprised reaction.
“After I was separated from the team, I washed up on an island in the shapeshifter clans’ territories, and that’s where I met Freya,” I explained. “While I was figuring out a way to get back to Mistral, we got married… so, yeah, she came back home with me, and I’ve been really excited for you to meet her… ”
Maelor had listened quietly to my tale with his eyebrows furrowed, but as I trailed off, I noticed him give my shapeshifting wife a subtle wink.
“Well, that’s great news, kid,” he said after a moment. “Surprisin’ as all hell, but great. You sure grew up a lot since I saw you last.”
“Thanks.” I smirked.
“Freya,” Maelor said as he gave the warrior princess a small bow of his head, “it is lovely to meet you. How Gryff ever snagged such a pretty miss for his wife is beyond me.”
“I like to meet you, too,” my wife replied with a twinkle in her gold-flecked eyes.
Arwyn smiled warmly, and Cyra giggled happily.
“You know, Gryff,” Maelor grumbled, and he shuffled slightly in his seat, “I’m real proud of you, you’ve done good, kid.”
When he met my eyes, emotion welled there, and no more words were needed. I wrapped my arm around his shoulder and buried my head in his neck as my heart swelled.
We pulled away with wet eyes, and Maelor quickly dabbed at his face with the edge of his sleeve.
“I never gave up on you, boy,” the old man said in a shaky voice. “Not really. I knew you would come back, somehow, someday.”
“I’m sorry I made you worry so much,” I said with a sympathetic smile, and I ignored the tears on my cheeks.
“Eh, it comes with yer job,” Maelor grumbled. “When yer out saving the world, yer bound to run into some risks. I’m just glad to have you back.”
“I’m glad to be back,” I replied, and my grin grew so wide my cheeks hurt.
The wheels of the wagon bumped over a hole in the cobblestones, and we all bounced in our seats. Outside the window, the streets of Varle slipped by, but I was too distracted by my reunion with Maelor to pay much attention to the sights. I knew from my previous experiences in the enclave what laid beyond the plush walls of our carriage. The narrow streets were likely packed with people of all backgrounds from beggars to artisans and merchants, and we would pass through several nice neighborhoods before we reached the Academy.
Just then, the cathedral to the One True Maker with its impossibly steep gabled roof and massive bell tower flashed by through the window, and I grinned.
Almost there.
“So,” Maelor said and pulled me out of my thoughts, “you got married, and yer not dead. Is that the highlights?”
“I captured some Archons,” I offered with a shrug, and I shot a glance at the women sitting along the opposite bench. “What else?”
“I’d been keeping tabs on the reports,” Maelor replied in a solemn tone. “Those Archons sure caused a lot of problems down in the south.”
“That’s over now,” Cyra informed him with a grin. “Gryff took them all out, so now the people in the Southern continent are free from the power-hungry goddesses.”
“You killed them?” Maelor’s eyes narrowed. “How did you manage that?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I captured them inside my consciousness.”
“You… did what?” His look of utter confusion was comical, and I suppressed the chuckle rising in my throat.
“We are not entirely sure how it works just yet,” Arwyn said in a scholarly tone. “There are still many unanswered questions. It does not seem like restraining the goddesses inside Gryff’s consciousness will have any detrimental effects on him, though.”
“You can’t know that for sure,” Maelor argued with a shake of his head. “Poor Gryff’s brain could explode… or something.”
“We tried to put the Archons inside the crystal caves in Luratamba,” I explained, “but not even the biggest essence crystal there could hold the power of a goddess, so I don’t know of any other options.”
“Sounds fishy to me,” the old man warned. “I wouldn’t want any women in my head, let alone some crazed goddesses, but I’ve always told you yer head was harder than rock. Don’t surprise me you can hold more than a crystal.”
“It’s been interesting,” I laughed. “Don’t worry about me, Maelor, I’ll figure it out.”
“What’s the story with the tattoos?” Maelor’s eyes flicked from my neck to my hands.
“They’re the marks of the Archons,” I informed him, and I scratched the golden jaguar paw design on the back of my hand self-consciously.
“Hmph,” Maelor huffed and looked me over closely like he was searching for a wound or a sign I’d lost my mind, but he didn’t say anything else.
I could feel the road level out beneath the carriage, and when I glanced out the window, the marble walls surrounding the perimeter of the Academy grounds rolled past. Then the iron gate lifted, and the carriage continued toward the school proper.
The towers atop the pentagon shaped building jutted into the purple twilight of the sky, and my heart rate increased as we approached the massive black and gold doors of the Varle Academy of Magic.
The carriage creaked to a halt, and a portly man opened the door while we all clambered out. A second carriage came to a stop behind us, and Nia, Braden, Mati, and Varleth climbed out. Then Mur trotted forward from beside the horses, and he shook his head with excitement.
Suddenly, the large, ornate doors began to creak open, and several people in blue uniforms stepped through the portal to stand before us.
“Welcome back, Miss Hamner,” a young woman with a tightly bound bun greeted the red-haired professor. “The headmaster wishes to see you in his office as soon as possible.”
“Impatient much?” I asked with a wry smile. Then I turned to the workers and cleared my throat. “Our friend will need accommodations in the stables.”
The woman who had greeted Arwyn trailed her eyes over to Mur, and she gave a small nod. “I will see to it at once.”
“We can find our way to Sleet’s office,” Arwyn informed the woman with a grateful smile. “Thank you for your time.”
“You’re very welcome, ma’am,” the worker replied. Then she snapped her heels together and signaled to the others. “Please have your… friend… follow me.”
“Go with them,” I instructed the moose kid in the language of the clans. “They’ll take you someplace comfortable.”
Mur bellowed and wagged his broad snout, but then he obediently turned and followed the workers toward the stables.
With that settled, the rest of us entered the Academy and walked down the long entryway toward Sleet’s office. We went up the grand staircase to the second floor, and a moment later, we stood at the entrance to the lift.
Maelor led us into the small metallic box, and he pushed a series of buttons tucked inside a panel next to the sliding door. Then the mechanical lift whirred and the floor rose up beneath us. My stomach heaved, and Freya squeezed my hand tightly as the compartment lurched upward.
I was too grateful about not taking the stairs to care. The climb to Sleet’s office was grueling, and ever since I’d learned of the lift’s existence, it had been my preferred method.
Then the lift screeched and came to a stop, and the floor wobbled beneath my feet for a moment as I adapted to the sudden lack of movement. I raked a hand through my hair and patted down my travel wrinkled shirt as the doors slid open, but the sight of Marangur Sleet’s office still took my breath away the same as it had the first time I’d seen it.
Maelor squeezed past my friends and entered the room. “Mister Headmaster, sir, I’ve brought the kids like you asked.”
“Thank you, Maelor, that will be all.”
I recognized the headmaster’s voice, but I couldn’t see him from my vantage point.
Headmaster Sleet’s office was a wide, circular room, and the walls were lined from floor to pointed ceiling with books. The air smelled of leather and ancient pages, and the familiar scent of fading tobacco smoke was welcoming to my nose. In between some of the bookcases were the mounted heads of monsters of all kinds: cyclopes, dragons, trolls, gagalleons, witherclaws, giants, but the most spectacular sight was the wide window opposite me.
The final rays of sunset pierced through the glass and bathed the entire room in an ambient light, but lanterns situated throughout the space illuminated the corners against the growing shadows of dusk. Sitting in front of the massive window was a large mahogany desk piled high with books and papers, and behind the desk sat Marangur Sleet, Headmaster of the Varle Academy of Mages, and famous Storm Wizard.
The man was a legend long before I’d met him in person, but the familiar sight of his short graying beard and cloudy white eyes warmed my heart.
As we exited the lift and crowded into the headmaster’s office, I noticed the nervous demeanors of my friends and fellow students. Marangur Sleet made for an intimidating presence, even with talented prodigies like Nia Kenefick.
“This is where I leave you, kid,” Maelor said as he stepped back into the lift. “Come find me in the Retching Goblin when yer done talking and catching up.”
“You got it.” I grinned at my adopted father. “You still owe me a keg.”
“I don’t owe you goblin shit,” Maelor cursed, and he grumbled to himself as he pushed the button to lower the lift.
I shook my head in amusement as I turned back to the headmaster’s office. My friends stood crowded in the space in front of the lift doors, almost as though they were too scared to move forward. I craned my neck to see over the red-haired squad leader’s shoulder at the front of our group, and I spotted Marangur Sleet, the headmaster of the Academy, sitting behind his desk.
“Ah, yes, Arwyn,” Sleet greeted as he looked up from the book cradled in his hands. Then he snapped the volume shut with a resounding thud and placed it on top of his desk as he stood. “How was your journey?”
“Long,” the red-haired professor replied with a smirk. “I’m ready for a hot bath and a soft bed.”
“Well, then I won’t keep you long,” the headmaster chuckled. He strode around to the front of the desk and leaned against it while his eyes trailed over the group. They finally landed on me, and the corners of his lips twitched into a smile. “Why hello, Mister Gryff, it seems you and Mister Prost did not come to an early death after all.”
“No, sir,” I confirmed with a grin. “We didn’t die.”
“This is excellent news,” Sleet chuckled, and he winked toward the dark-haired gypsy. “When we received the report of another awakened Archon, I couldn’t help but hope you were still alive. All of you have done so much for the realm, and for the entire world, it is good to have you return in one piece. Although, I’ve seen the two of you in better shape.”
“I’m fine, sir,” Varleth assured the headmaster, and I could have sworn I saw him smile for the briefest moment. “Just need a bath and some new clothes.”
“Very well,” Sleet replied with a twinkle in his eyes. “Come in, sit, give me the full report.
We all filtered around his office in search of a comfortable place to sit. Freya, Cyra, and Nia sat along the low leather couch, Arwyn took one of the arm chairs, and Varleth took the other. Braden and Mati took up a cross legged position on the floor, so I leaned against the arm of the couch and looked expectantly at the headmaster.
“Would you like some tea?” Marangur Sleet was practically skipping, and his happiness was palpable.
“Um, no, thank you, sir,” Arwyn replied, but she shot the team a glance just to make sure.
She was met with the steely determined gaze of mages back from a long mission. We wanted to deliver our report and hopefully be dismissed in time for dinner.
“Very well. I am getting low on the good ones.” He moved at a surprisingly quick pace as he crossed the room to return to his seat behind his desk, then he cleared his throat and looked pointedly at Arwyn. “Please, Miss Hamner, whenever you’re ready.”
“As you know, we departed Mistral in search of the ancient library in the country of Vay.” Arwyn spoke in the tone of an experienced squad leader, and her voice rang out clear and bright across the room. “The first leg of the journey was uneventful, but shortly after reaching the far edge of the Southern continent, we encountered a rift and stopped to eliminate the monster threat to the local civilians. By the time we reached the rift, however, it was dark and the moon came out, but that is where we ran into Gryff.”
The healer jerked her chin toward me, which switched the report over to my perspective.
“I was stranded in the shapeshifters’ territories--”
“The what?” Sleet’s eyes widened as he cut me off.
“Shapeshifters, sir,” I answered in a curt tone.
“So, they do exist. Incredible.” The headmaster gave his pipe a thoughtful puff. “Oh, I interrupted you, my apologies.”
“No worries,” I replied with a knowing look. “Took me a minute to accept it, too. Fortunately for me, it was in the middle of a fight, so I had to process real fast.”
“That was fortunate,” Sleet agreed, and his lips twitched into a hint of smile. “You were saying you were stranded?”
“Yes, sir, I spent some time on Eyrie Island, the Hawk Clan’s main island, and then a rift opened right outside the village,” I continued the storyline seamlessly before I gestured toward my wife. “Freya is the daughter of the chief, she fought by my side until the rift closed, and then we saw the airship.”
“I imagine that must have been quite a shock for everyone involved,” the headmaster replied, and he pulled out his long pipe. “Please, continue.”
“Freya and I joined the team, but Varleth was still lost, so we searched from the sea while the airship headed toward Vay. When we reached the mainland, we abandoned my ship to continue our search on foot.” I looked at the banisher, and his eyes were dark. “We got into the middle of the war between the clans, and at the battle for Skara, we ran into one of Veopa’s creations.”
“It was like a mash up of several different shapeshifters,” Nia added.
“That would have been an amazing thing to witness,” the headmaster observed. “Even seeing one shapeshifter in action would be breathtaking.”
“Mister Rain, sir,” Freya suddenly spoke up in heavily accented Mistral, “would you like to see for yourself?”
