Ice Burns Page 2

  "I saw the fire and sought to help, Master," Deakon said, his dirty blond hair stuck to his head and his clothes were ragged and hung on his lanky frame. "Only help, that is all."

  Deakon had always been tall and thin, but Chandra noted his bones were practically coming through his skin. She dropped her head and looked away. She knew that Deakon's lanky body and gaunt look were due to being underfed and probably sleeping in the streets due to his expulsion from the estate and school. Despite their differences, Chandra felt sorry for him.

  "And?" Master asked. His face was almost void of expression except for the slight narrowing of his eyes. Chandra had witnessed Master Dreys dealing with servants enough to know that the master was currently at his most dangerous. If Master showed any emotion at all in eyes or mouth, it was a perilous thing. Master did not smile for pleasure. Master's eyes did not light up with joy or excitement. Emotions were not a welcome part of Master's expression.

  "I was not trying to hurt the apprentice, Master. I wanted to save her," Deakon said in a rush, shooting a look at Chandra as though he dared her to deny his claim.

  Chandra frowned and felt Master's gaze cut across to her. She thought about everything she had experienced with the magical hurricane: choking, burning, pulling and then free with a heavy weight falling upon her. Deakon had been the one to free her from the maelstrom, but with Master looking at her, Chandra choked on the words and couldn't speak. She did not want him looking at her the way he was currently looking at Deakon.

  “Apprentice?”

  Chandra swallowed, trying to decide if it were better to let Deakon take Master's wrath or tell the truth and face Master's disappointment. Her face pinched, and she felt vomit rise in her throat. Her breath caught, and she lifted her eyes enough to see again the gaunt young man standing across from Master. No matter how much Deakon had tortured her, he didn't deserve the punishment he would likely get from Master. As his apprentice, Chandra would probably be spared almost all of Master's rage.

  "It's true," she whispered, her head down. It was incredible to Chandra that she could get the words out through her clenched jaw. As she fought her racing heart, her eye began twitching madly. She couldn't force another word from her lips and stared at the ground, trying to control both the bile in her throat and her sudden urge to urinate.

  “The apprentice approached Master’s magical storm and touched the mist that was playing off of it. I was too far away to stop her from reaching it.” Deakon spoke in a rush. “When I did reach her, the water was choking her and had almost covered her face. She would have drowned in another few moments.”

  Master stared at Deakon and said nothing. Not once did he turn to look at Chandra either in anger or to check her well-being. Master continued to look at Deakon. He lifted his hand and scratched the edge of his goatee with the nails of two fingers for a moment before speaking.

  “I owe you a debt, Deakon. In payment, I reinstate you in the estate at your previous status. Do not disappoint me again or you will never have the opportunity to disappoint again.”

  Chandra felt the depth of unstated meaning in that one statement and saw Deakon swallow hard through her eyelashes. She was afraid to lift her eyes any further than that.

  Master Dreys didn’t say anything to Chandra but instead turned sharply on his heel and walked back to the estate, gesturing at a few men to come with him for clean-up. She knew this wasn’t the end. She knew that paying Deakon’s “debt” would somehow come from her.

  Chandra lifted her head to glare at the tall boy who stood before her with his chin high and eyes narrowed on her. Her hand itched and stung from where it had burned in the eye of the storm. She glared at him as she raised her hand and scratched at the palm as though she could stop the sensation or scrape it off.

  "I'll not thank you for the burn to my hand in your clumsy attempts to win your way into Master's favor," she hissed. She wanted to strike him for showing her up in front of the Master. Master Dreys would not wait long to show his disappointment in his apprentice. She felt her tenuous grip on her position at the estate become even more slippery.

  The actual issue with Deakon was that he was jealous Chandra had done nothing but been born and been chosen as the Master's apprentice. He had been living at the Master's estate for five years before Chandra had arrived.

  It wasn't as though she had done anything to become the object of Deakon's dislike or Master's attention. Chandra knew that her magic was almost non-existent. She couldn't do half of what was expected, but Master made her feel that it was for lack of trying. As time passed, though, Chandra believed what Master had decided about her less and less. She did her best to hide it.

  Chandra knew that other students felt the same way as Deakon did about her: resentful and angry. Chandra found that she had to use anger of her and fear for the Master to maintain her status as the apprentice and Master's favorite among the others. She had gotten beaten up so many times as a child by the other students at the estate that Master had punished several children as an example. When it happened again, she went to him, but Master would no longer help.

  "If you want them to stop, you must make them stop," Master said. His gaze was not on her nor did he sound concerned as he continued to study one of the ancient tomes he brought back from his journey. "Use your magic on one and the others will fall in line."

  She remembered staring at Master for longer than she should have with her chin on her chest. Master knew that Chandra could not control what little magic she could call on a good day and often destroyed anything she focused on. If she were to use her magic on another student, the results could easily be death or, at best, loss of limb. Instead, she had resorted to physically fighting the others off when she could or using the threat of the Master to stop them. Eventually, the other students avoided her, as did most of the mentors, instructors, and even servants. No one wanted Master Dreys' ire focused on them. Any of Master's anger was immediately and consummately blamed on Chandra, and that pushed everyone away further.

  It didn't make Chandra feel any better to have all of the students and staff avoid her; it only made her realize that much more how tenuous her position was. The thought that he would one day oust her continued to grow in her mind every day like a spider expanding its web. If that happened, not only would she lose the privileges she had, she would become an instant target without anything or anyone to protect her.

  Deakon’s voice brought her back to the present.

  “You’re delusional. I did nothing to your hand but pull it from the storm,” Deakon scoffed. “You can save your injury to blame on someone else and get them in trouble.”

  Chandra stared at Deakon, feeling the severe heat of the burn on her hand. He shook his head at her and mumbled something about ingratitude as he walked away. She frowned at his back as he disappeared inside the estate before looking at her red palm. She stretched her long fingers wide and looked at the uneven, coin-shaped burn in the middle of her palm. It wasn't her imagination, but she knew Deakon: whatever else he was, Deakon had never been untruthful.

  Chandra’s palm continued to glow red and radiate heat from burn as she stared at it and wondered if her magic had flared for a moment. Had it come to her inept hands long enough to burn her but not long enough to save her? Or, had it come to her because of something else?

  The following morning held no respite for Chandra. Master Dreys arrived early to bring her a goblet of water, books, parchment, and a quill. He set them down on the tiny work table she had in her square of a room. Master said nothing to Chandra. He turned and left as suddenly as he had arrived. She walked over to the table and saw a too-familiar tomb on levitation. She sighed and pushed the books and materials out of the way to focus on the stupid cup. She had read the book so many times that there was no reason even to open it.

  Chandra had been awake for hours. It was impossible for her to sleep beyond the dawning of the day. Her body had long since become trained to wake early because it was what
Master expected of her. She had washed off, straightened up, and dressed before Master's arrival. Chandra knotted the end of her braid before putting down the silver brush on the tiny wardrobe that held all of her possessions. She placed it by the matching mirror: both had been one of the only presents ever given to her by Master, and though the silver was old with an oxidized look, the handles were gemmed, and Chandra cherished them both. The gift, to her, meant that Master appreciated her and had confidence in her, not that his behavior of late supported that.

  From the window birdsongs and their flights to and from various trees kept her attention. It had become routine to brush and braid her long, brown curls into a rope down her back that she didn't need to look. The window was half as large as she was and started on the wall near where her shoulders began. It was one of few peaceful moments that she could remember in her life. She loved being able to look out and see the birds among the vine-wrapped trees. Chandra rarely saw direct sun from where the window faced. It also seemed to be in a poor spot for any breeze to come in through the small awning, and she couldn't reach the casement that took over the upper majority of the frame. It was a glimpse of the world outside, but enough to make the morning seem like there was more to the world than what she experienced.

  Chandra pulled the chair away from the table and clasped her hands behind her back. She closed her eyes, thinking about the goblet floating above the table before opening her eyes. She narrowed her focus to the water. Chandra fought her fears and nerves, pushing all of the worries into the back of her mind and imagining a wall coming up to prevent the tidal wave from rolling forward and reclaiming her focus at the worst moment. She memorized the lines of the goblet on the table and willed it to rise from the table. Her brain pushed, and Chandra forced herself to take slow breaths; the offensive object that refused to assist her. Chandra's diaphragm constricted as she pushed.

  A bird called somewhere outside with a rasping shriek of outrage and Chandra jumped, jostling the table in the process and losing all focus.

  Chandra squeaked at the noise and slammed her fists on the table, causing the goblet to hop a bit on the wood surface with a few drops of water seeking escape to splatter the rough top. Chandra picked up the glass of water and flung it across the room. It hit the thud of metal on brick before splashing a trail down the wall.

  The line of water down the wall pointed at the dented cup’s position on the scuffed wooden floor like an accusatory arrow. Where the mug had landed was where Chandra had been trying to get it to go anyways. The mess was as big of a tell as the arrow line of water down the wall; both screamed her inability to control magic.

  Chandra stepped away from the table and dropped into the chair she had moved. She huffed for a moment, feeling her eyes fill with moisture from frustration.

  "Grrrrr!" she yelled and stomped her feet up and down on the floor, giving into the childish need to tantrum for a moment. Chandra took a deep breath, stood and put the chair back at the table before sitting down again. The parchment, pen, and book seemed to mock her. She scratched at her right hand, and her nails dug into her skin for a moment, soothing a need there that she hadn't realized she had. Chandra looked down at the puckered red skin she had been scratching at madly. She stroked her fingers across the rough circle gently as though apologizing for mistreatment. The warmth that came off of her palm, though, made Chandra pause.

  After the fire, she had gone directly to her room. She thought that, in solitude, she might be able to call some aspect of her magic forward. Since she had woken up, Chandra had been trying to use her magic to move anything in the room or light the lantern by her bed. The only thing that had happened was with the goblet.

  Chandra dropped her head to the table and rolled it back and forth on the rough surface. The wood sent slivered fingers to drag at her skin as she did so, but the harsh scraping seemed almost comforting when she thought about seeing Master. Funny that she had idolized him so much as a child, and now the thought of seeing him was less pleasant than the feel of rough wood scraping against her face.

  Chandra imagined the bored look Master would have if he came into her room right then. She hoped it would only be boredom, though. He had walked away before her mouth could open during breakfast. Without an appetite, she had returned to her room. She knew that she could have died from that water and was begrudgingly thankful that Deakon had saved her. Chandra wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to have been killed by magic over yet another blunder. It didn't seem likely that she would ever willfully call magic on her own. She also wondered if losing her would upset or be a relief to Master Dreys.

  As if summoned by her thoughts, the door swung open, and Master looked at her over an open book.

  2

  Chandra sat up straight and watched her master survey the room. He eyed the chalice on the floor near the table and the streak of water on the wall before turning to raise an eyebrow at Chandra. Master flicked one hand through the air, and the door slammed behind him. He closed his eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply without saying anything to her. Chandra knew better than to speak; Master often did this after leaving her to a task for any amount of time. She didn't always know if this was for patience or if he had some weird ability to smell magic.

  When he exhaled, Master Dreys opened his eyes, and Chandra could see the disappointment like an icy sheen to his brown eyes.

  “You threw the goblet again; I take it?” the Master asked as he placed the book, still open, on the table. Chandra re-lowered her head to the table and rolled it from side to side.

  “Enough with the self-pity!” Master snapped.

  Chandra sat back upright immediately. Her spine had gone rigid, and she didn't know if it was from fear or Master's will.

  "Read! Find a way to call and control your power!" Master's voice was like the snap of a whip, and she grabbed the book on the table and opened it. Master did not show her annoyance. She had noticed that whenever it seemed that master was displeased or any other sort of emotion came to him, he went elsewhere; anywhere Chandra was not. Chandra didn't know where he went, nor would she ever dare ask.

  "I am leaving for a few days to attend to some business. You will stay in this room and read. When you need more books, you will ring for Andre, and he will bring you more from my library. You will find a way to break through whatever barrier is holding back your magic, apprentice, or no longer be my apprentice. Is that understood?"

  Master's glare burned into her shocked green eyes. She couldn't blink or breath and nodded quickly. The deep, rich brown of Master Dreys' eyes was again as black as coal. His voice had lost the rare quality she knew so well and had become an opaque silkiness that practically froze the air in the room. Chandra couldn't swallow, and her breath seemed to pinch in her chest.

  Master gave one curt nod and left the room. The door closed behind him like an explosion to Chandra’s suddenly taut nerves. She tried again to swallow and coughed on the mass that had grown in her throat. Her eyes filled, but Chandra rubbed angrily at them and turned back to the book that she had read more times than any other in Master's library. She had read every book he would allow her to at this point; most two or three times.

  Master's new impatience with her grew more and more pronounced. Chandra had seen, over the years, Master Dreys express annoyance on other students, staff or instructors, but never her. He was very careful to avoid emotional displays of any kind with her and often ensured she was nowhere nearby when he expressed his dissatisfaction with someone else. Nonetheless, she had seen him strike Deakon once.

  She had felt a momentary satisfaction when Master Dreys had hit Deakon with a closed-handed strike across the face for what she assumed had to do with the chase that had happened that day. Deakon had chased her into the field where the guards were holding practice.

  Chandra had run from him right into the center of the practice field. She had hoped that by running out onto the field during practice, that Deakon would give up or try to go around an
d give her time to escape the beating he was likely to give her. She hadn't taken into account how determined Deakon had been to catch her. Chandra remembered that she had looked back in surprise when he continued chasing her. Her foot wedged in armor that was lying on the field, and she toppled into the middle of a sparring session. One of the men was in a downward swing of his sword and got so close to slicing into her skull that he lopped off a lock of hair from the side of her head. She remembered the air leaving her lungs as her heart stopped. It had almost gotten her killed.

  She also remembered the look on Deakon's face from where he had landed on the floor after the blow from Master's fist. She had grown sick at his expression which wiped away any hint of the petty satisfaction she had felt. She could still imagine the ugly purple welt that he had had to wear as the mark of his punishment.

  Chandra shook her head. She needed to prove to Master that his faith in her and efforts to train her was justified before he decided he didn't want her anymore. Chandra had no doubt it was what was behind his recent bouts of dissatisfaction and annoyance. She needed to prove to her Master that she was as he had always said: his apprentice.

  She looked down at the book on simple levitation spells and zoned out as she read the words again. Chandra wondered if Andre would bring her some of the Master's private collection of books while he was gone?

  Chandra had once taken one of his books by accident. After another failed lesson, Master told her to take the books he had set out and return to her room until she could figure out how to do the candle spell. She had picked up the book beside a small stack near the door under the assumption that he had left it there for her.

  The book had been about ancient religious practices. The binding was threadbare and worn with a thin cover and handwritten text. She remembered the thrill that had run through her that Master had left her something new to read through from his private library. For once, Chandra had no hesitation in opening a book to read.