The Howling Delve - Jaleigh Johnson [56]
"Oh, they're here," Varan said. He patted the small sack he wore tied around his neck. He reached inside and drew out three rings. He dropped them into her cupped hand one at a time. They were identical to the ring Meisha wore, but for the bloodstains.
"Dead?" Meisha couldn't believe it. Three apprentices, and even Jonal, the lowliest among them, bore powerful elemental magic, defenses known only to themselves and Varan. "How?"
But Varan had gone back to his drawing. Meisha picked up the sphere, but whatevet magic it had held appeared spent.
What happened to the wizard? Her attacker's words drifted back.
"Talal, what…"
But Talal was no longet in the room. Meisha tutned back and found Varan staring at her as if he'd only just discovered she was in the room.
"Firebird, it is good to see you," he said. He lifted a hand to touch her shoulder. The gesture of affection was so familiar it made Meisha's chest constrict.
"Master, how did this happen?" she asked, cupping the melted side of his face gently in her hand.
"This?" Varan twirled a finger in the empty socket. "I believe he took it-or I had to give it away-hard to remember. Bad things are here," he said. Then he shifted the finger, tapping his temple. "But here…" He grinned at her. "Gods are at work."
"Oh, Master-"
"I'm glad you've returned, little one. Yes, you can help me fix them-the broken ones." He touched his hand to the wall next to where the drawing had been. His fingers passed through the rock as if it were water, until he'd sunk to the elbow in stone. When he pulled his hand out, he held a second sphere, smaller than the first and copper-hued.
"What is broken, Varan? Where are those coming from?" Meisha asked. She lifted the pouch away from his neck, slipping the rings back inside. "What happened to the apprentices?"
"I told you, they're here. Don't fret." His hand closed tightly over hers. With the other, he stroked her hair.
"But what-"
"I told you." Ancient muscles flexed with astonishing strength, slamming her head into the unforgiving stone wall. "Don't fret."
Meisha went down in a burst of red pain and horror. Blindly, she lurched to her back as her teacher towered over her, a terrible, crumbling column of rage and power.
"You should leave now, firebird," he said, his face dark. He murmured something inaudible, and the chamber sparked to life with newly kindled magic. "Leave me alone."
Gasping, cradling her head, Meisha opened her mouth in time to taste fire. The chamber darkened and blurred as if she'd been cast into a deep pool. She could no longer see Varan.
Trembling, Meisha raised herself to her knees and crawled to where she thought the doorway must be. Somewhere along the way the fire went out, but she could smell the smoke of things still burning: rotted meat, clothing, and hair-her own, of course. She slid onto her face and rolled jerkily to put the fires out.
Hands caught her armpits, and Meisha felt herself being dragged out of the room into cooler air. She heard the door grind shut, and Talal's terrified face filled her vision.
"He t-tried to kill me." Meisha coughed on the smoke from her own burnt clothing.
Talal nodded grimly. "The ball. You touched one of his toys. Shirva Tularin did the same thing. There wasn't enough of her left to show her husband. You should be dead," he said, half-accusingly.
Meisha shuddered. Her skin was unburned but red and raw, as if she'd stumbled through a bramble bush. "I'm protected- somewhat-against magical fire," she said, lifting a hand to touch her head. "I wish I could say the same fot blunt trauma." She looked up at Talal imploringly. "What happened to him? How did-"
"We don't know," Talal said. "He was like that when we found him, but worse-starved nearly to death, and sick. We brought him out of it, but his head's gone…" Talal still gazed at het suspiciously. "You believe me now? That thing isn't your teacher anymore, Lady."
"Then what is he?" Meisha