A Father's Dream (The Dark Prism Book 1) Page 21

  The Prism Master’s gaze was still scrutinizing, and Aleric wasn’t sure whether he believed him or not, but all he said was, “All right then, if you are bound and determined to try, then I suppose I will sponsor it. But if I don’t see real progress by the end of the year, I’ll retract my support and you will have to do it on your own time.”

  Aleric nodded, because the terms were fair, despite the feeling of dread he had at not being able to make tangible progress that rapidly.

  “Thank you, sir. I’ll leave you to your breakfast now.”

  He turned and walked away before the Master could do anything to lower his mood further. He needed to be on top of his game for the Council meeting, because his mother would expect him to review his observations with her afterwards to see if he was paying attention; it was a favorite game of hers.

  Still, it was hard to ignore his feelings as he left the school and stepped into the warm spring air, walking aimlessly until he realized he could translocate himself from anywhere. He stopped in the main courtyard, feeling like a fool, and sat down on the nearest stone bench to take a few calming breaths. A few stray pear-blossom petals floated down from the overhanging tree, settling in his hair. He brushed them off distractedly.

  Get a grip, Aleric. You can’t be everyone’s favorite all of the time. Antwar didn’t even say he disliked you, just that you keep your feelings closely held. If I asked either of my parents, they would say that was one of the highest compliments Antwar could have given me.

  He exhaled some of his frustrations, feeling himself relax. It was just so jarring, being compared unfavorably against Asher, by one of the Masters, no less. Even people who liked Asher still tended not to laud him over Aleric—or not within earshot, at least. That was a new and slightly unsettling thought: perhaps people preferred his best friend over him, thought him smarter, funnier, just better in general…maybe people only favored Aleric openly because he was in a position of relative power…

  I’m getting worked up over nothing, he shook himself mentally. It was true that there were a certain number of people who only clung to him in the hopes of elevating their own station; Eland, Carter, and the rest were just a few of many examples of that. Every Level-B or –C family that had a daughter anywhere near him in age tended to haunt him, hoping to make a favorable alliance by marriage. Still, there was no reason to think that he had no true friends, and to entertain such fears was to become as paranoid as his father. The Masters especially had no reason to humor him, since they had at least as much political influence as him—more, in some circles—and they had nothing to gain from feigning interest in him.

  He stood up, in control of himself once more, and pulled his eyepiece down in front of his right eye, twisting the violet prism effortlessly until he found the alignments for translocation. He focused long enough to cast the entire sequence of arrays, raising the prism out of his line of sight when he finished.

  Aleric was standing in front of the Crystal Tower, the headquarters for the Council of Mages who governed over all magekind. As usual, he hadn’t felt the change in locations: he had simply gone from standing in one place to standing in another between one moment and the next. The weather here was similar to the climate-controlled area surrounding Mizzenwald, as spring brought warmer weather at last to the Nine Lands.

  The Crystal Tower was the largest man-made structure in the Nine Lands, in the shape of a large glass needle that jutted towards the sky, larger at the base and growing narrower towards the apex. The glass exterior was mostly just for show; the interior walls were paneled with wood or stone to add to the structural support and keep the workers from being blinded by the sun all day. He had heard that the topmost floor was only glass on all four walls (as well as the floor), but since the twentieth floor was used as a prison for the worst violators of magical law, it was hardly important to make them comfortable.

  He stepped inside the main entrance, into a wood-paneled foyer that showed the interior of the Crystal Tower to be much larger than the outside suggested. He wondered how many mages had to pour enormous amounts of magic into the structure to make that possible.

  The Council meeting would be taking place on the second floor, in one of the larger conference rooms, and that was where Aleric now headed. He took the stairs, since it was a short climb and the magic-powered lift they had installed here was fairly new and not reliable yet.

  On the second floor he turned down the hall towards the meeting rooms, following the natural curve of the hallway as it turned a wide arc. That was the only real indication that they were inside a circular building at all, the fact that each floor was set out in a curve, which was even more apparent on the higher levels as the space became smaller and smaller.

  He stopped outside the only open door in the hall, where voices clearly emanated from the room within. Glancing at his chrono to make sure he was on time, Aleric straightened his hair one last time and entered the conference room.

  Most of the others who could be expected to arrive were already here. His mother was on the side of the room nearest the door, and Aleric walked purposefully past her with barely a nod in greeting and claimed one of the few open spots on the opposite end of the room. She wouldn’t want him to sit beside her for sentimentality’s sake and miss the chance to see the room from a different perspective. He might catch things that she missed, and vice-versa.

  This put him beside Reginald Trout, who must only be attending because his wife made him, as Reggie usually avoided politics when given the chance. A visibly-pregnant Magdalene was standing near the Council’s table in the center of the room, wearing her gold robes over the black shirt and pants and speaking in undertones to Calahan Biloxas, another Council member with high ambitions. Everyone knew he was hoping to become the next Chief Mage when Herewald retired.

  The other prominent families had representatives around the room as well. Aleric saw Eldric Kilgore—thankfully without Susanna—near his mother, as well as Carradie Thorn, Ralf Hyle, and even Jorg Perle, who must be calling in a favor to get an invitation to this exclusive event. Many of the Masters of the various Great Nine schools of magic were in attendance, wearing their robes of mastery as permitted by their rank. The only ones from Mizzenwald that Aleric noticed were Masters Sark, Reede, and Willow.

  Willow caught Aleric’s eye and nodded a greeting, which Aleric returned. Master Sark looked unaccountably tense, in deep discussion with a Council member who was standing near his seat, so Aleric didn’t get the chance to greet him. Reede yawned, looking bored, but that wasn’t unusual; Master Reede had an odd sense of humor, and was unimpressed by events such as this.

  I wonder why he’s even here?

  Aleric had often wondered if Reede was really as unconcerned with politics as he pretended, but the man could give anyone lessons in keeping their feelings closely held, for he betrayed so little of his own personality that Aleric felt like he barely knew anything about the man even after six years of acquaintance.

  “Scouting out the room for more illustrious company?” Reggie broke into his thoughts, and Aleric immediately realized he hadn’t even greeted his friend when he sat down.

  “Sorry, Reg…I didn’t realize I hadn’t even said ‘hello’ yet. I’ve had a weird morning, and I’m a little distracted.”

  “Oh?” Reginald asked with interest. “Well whatever is on your mind, don’t let it keep you from passing your mother’s debriefing after this shindig, or you’ll be relegated to menial chores for the entire summer.”

  “Too true,” Aleric grumbled. “I’m surprised you’re sitting on this end of the room, unless you’ve had a falling out with Jasper?” He indicated the slender, well-dressed man who sat in the center row, one seat behind Master Reede. Jasper Dout was one of Reginald’s best friends, or had been the last time Aleric had seen him.

  “Oh no, no falling out,” Reggie waved the notion aside. “We just don’t like to sit by each other in places where they’re likely to take attendance, since it so
unds stupid when they call for Jasper Dout and Reginald Trout, like we’re some sort of circus act.” He smirked.

  “Ah, I hadn’t thought of that,” Aleric admitted with a grin. “Well, if things don’t work out with Magdalene, you and Jasper have a backup career path now…” he teased.

  Reginald rolled his eyes and said, “Aside from the fact that I’m fairly locked into this marriage with the impending arrival of our second child, Jasper’s wife just gave birth to a little girl as well, so I doubt he’ll be pulled away from them by anything less than a catastrophe.”

  Aleric hadn’t realized that she had already had the baby. He’d been neglecting his social duties as of late, too busy with school to be properly involved in the Great House scene any more than strictly necessary.

  Father was right about that much at least…it’s impossible to do everything at once.

  “A girl, you say? What did they name her?” he asked with mild interest, thinking that there was now one more name to add to his list of People To Be Aware Of Politically. Their five year old son was named Jasper, after his father…not terribly original, and smacking of vanity. Maybe the daughter would be Jasperina?

  “Lillian, after Jasper’s grandmother. They recycle names often in that family, but then, the Douts have never been known for their creativity.” Reginald shrugged. “Though perhaps little Lillian will be a playmate to my future son or daughter—they will be of an age.”

  Aleric could see the appeal in that, and was momentarily unhappy about the fact that he wouldn’t be a father for years to come, so his eventual children would have to find different children to play with. Then again, perhaps Reggie and Jasper would be onto their third children by then…

  “Any thoughts on what you’re naming yours?” he asked.

  Reginald frowned thoughtfully and said, “Depends on gender, of course, but Maggie likes Serena for a girl and Lorn for a boy. I don’t have any strong objection to either, which is good, because she would probably tear my head off if I questioned either of her preferred names.”

  Aleric smiled and kept to himself the fact that he didn’t much care for either name, though he had no idea what he would choose for his own future children; he’d never given it any real thought before. ‘Serena’ sounded like an airhead, and ‘Lorn’ sounded like a snotty brat.

  Before they had much more of a chance to talk, the meeting was called to order and the room abruptly fell silent. Aleric went back into careful observation mode and began looking casually around the room by turning only his eyes, so as not to appear too blatant about his scrutiny.

  The ten members of the Council of Mages took their seats at the high table, Magdalene lowering herself carefully into hers, and then Herewald Westerman began the proceedings.

  “As most of us already know,” Herewald began without preamble, addressing the room at large, “I am going to retire from my position as Chief Mage of this Council in one year. This group has been gathered today so that the process for naming my successor and filling the soon-to-be vacant spot on the Council can begin.”

  Aleric glanced casually around the room, expression neutral. It was no surprise that only the most illustrious families and notable members of mage society had been summoned to this meeting, nor did he think any of the people who put their name forward would be speaking up for the first time.

  If various Council members haven’t coached each and every person who steps up today before now, I’ll be amazed.

  Technically, any mage who had attained mastery level in their major of focus could put their name forth for consideration to become a Council member, and all requests were to be treated with equal consideration, weighed on merit and talent alone. Aleric knew that was all a farce, and that the system had been rigged for as long as it had been in place. Asher, for all his brilliance, could never be elected to such a high post, unless he managed something truly spectacular that elevated him in rank, sufficient to compensate for his poor family connections. He, Aleric, had always recognized the unfairness of the system, though he had never been terribly bothered by it, as it was a food chain he was always on top of.

  “We will address the issue of who will replace me as Chief Mage first,” Herewald went on in his wheezy voice, looking small and slightly hunched in his chair.

  It’s past time for that man to retire, Aleric observed privately. The Council members were supposed to be fit enough to fight in wars, overpower mages who resisted arrest, and so forth. It didn’t necessarily require one to be physically hale so much as magically, but at some point age became a barrier to both…

  The other nine Council members at the high table perked up, becoming immediately more attentive as an eerie stillness fell over them. Almost all of them had ambitions for taking the top spot, though Aleric wasn’t sure yet which ones would have already bribed the others to hold back their own nominations. If he had left Mizzenwald this year, as his father had wanted, he would know much more about the situation than he did right now.

  “I’d like to nominate myself,” Calahan Biloxas spoke first, to no one’s surprise. Even Reggie looked bored, and he was fairly new to the political scene. Calahan was in his thirties, and had been bowing and scraping to Herewald for years to ingratiate himself with the man and prove himself a worthy successor.

  “I second the nomination,” Magdalene Trout added on the heels of this, expression carefully neutral.

  Now there’s a surprise…

  Quiet muttering broke out around the room at this unexpected endorsement from a fellow Council member and rival, and Aleric leaned over to Reginald and asked, “She’s backing Calahan? I would have thought she’d nominate herself.”

  He glanced at his mother as he whispered to his friend, and wasn’t entirely shocked to see that Adorina Frost didn’t look taken aback at all by the events so far. She had a terrific game face, so it was hard to tell if she was masking surprise or not, but he got the impression that she was expecting this.

  “So did I; everyone knows she wants it,” Reggie murmured quietly. “But she knows the climate better than I do, and she says she can’t win against Calahan on this cycle—that he’s going to come out on top no matter what. She’s biding her time and letting him have it now, to position herself better for the next go-around.”

  Aleric inclined his head in appreciation of this foresight, though he wasn’t certain that Calahan was a done deal for Chief Mage. He had put the odds around sixty-percent, factoring in that either Magdalene or Jarvis could have raised enough opposition to topple him if they exerted themselves.

  Sure enough, it was Jarvis who next said, “I’d like to nominate myself as well.”

  Another Council member backed Jarvis, and Aleric turned his attention instead towards the audience, gauging their reactions. A few people were exchanging glances across the room, heavy with meaning, and he assumed that they were surprised by this nomination of Jarvis.

  Idiots. A blind man could have seen that one coming…

  Reggie was shifting uncomfortably in his seat, barely stifling a yawn and clearly eager for this whole charade to be over. He probably wasn’t getting a lot of restful sleep with a heavily pregnant Magdalene to tend to; Aleric’s heart went out to the man.

  When the Council finished making their own nominations for Chief Mage, they opened it up to the audience for nominations to the soon-to-be vacant Council position. Andell Prym was the first from the audience to announce her own interest in running, sounding nervous and overeager.

  Sloppy delivery, Aleric met his mother’s eyes briefly and could guess her thoughts exactly. Andy has all the sense of a cockroach; she won’t even make the first cut of eliminations.

  A long silence fell over the room after Andell finished speaking, while most of the audience glanced around at the others, waiting to see who would speak next. Just before Herewald, who was taking notes of the names for consideration, could open his mouth and ask if there were any other interested parties, Master Sark spoke up.

 
“I would like to nominate myself for the position.”

  Aleric had to exert himself to mask his surprise. He had no idea that the Master of Powders had ambitions of being on the Council of Mages, though perhaps he was a fool for not realizing that his ambition for glory and fame in his research would likely translate into other areas as well.

  Judging by the reaction of the crowd, Aleric wasn’t the only one who was surprised by the nomination. A buzz of low-voiced whispers broke out after this, though Sark pretended not to hear any of them. The other Masters didn’t appear shocked by the announcement, so their colleague had obviously warned them of his plans in advance.

  If Sark moved to the Council, it would open up a new slot for a Master at Mizzenwald. Some lucky mage will be able to realize the dream of owning a Mastery Charm, as long as they can stomach teaching…

  Aleric briefly considered it himself, though he was too young to be awarded a post as the Master of Powders unless there were absolutely no better candidates.

  Why not? He argued internally. I’m excellent at Powders, often considered to be a dual-major even though I officially tested higher in Prisms...

  Most of his well-known, published work had been done in Powders, under the tutelage of Kirias Sark. Sure, there were a few Powder majors who were probably more skilled than him, but most of them were on the Council of Mages and already had Mastery Charms, so there would be no competition from them…

  Teaching children, ninety-percent of whom will be middling mages at best, would be terrible.

  Aleric had never had a desire to coach or teach others; he didn’t know how Asher could stand tutoring Maralynn and Tricia without losing his temper and declaring them both hopeless. Still, Sark didn’t particularly love teaching either, except for his chosen few apprentices who clearly showed real aptitude for the subject, and he had made it work for himself for years. He could suffer the lessons and office hours if he had to, for such a rich payoff…