The Necromancer's Apprentice Read online

  The earth magick book demanded his wandering attention once more. He found the language a little dry, but his experiments always worked. He smiled when he flicked past the sigil to separate salt and sand. Later this afternoon, he would start the chapter on earth divination. Perhaps he could make a little extra money for his mother down at the market. Living in the Underground City bred desperation, and its inhabitants were always looking for some form of comfort, even from fortune-tellers.

  “Pssst.”

  Markus Prady wanted his attention. Markus always wanted his attention. Jyx didn’t necessarily want to dislike Markus, as he was one of the few students who didn’t trip him up, manifest mud in his satchel or try to turn his hair green, but Markus lacked many of the social skills that might otherwise make him a good friend.

  “Jyx. Hey, Jyx.”

  Jyx put a finger to his lips and glanced sideways at Markus. The last thing he needed was Professor Tourney coming to the back of the class to ask why they weren’t paying attention. Advanced earth magick wasn’t exactly on the syllabus for the term.

  “Pssst.”

  Markus wiggled his fingers at him. Jyx scrawled Prof T will hear across a scrap scroll and underlined the phrase twice. Markus’s stupid gaze travelled from Jyx’s spiky handwriting to Professor Tourney and finally to Jyx himself. A spark of understanding flickered and died in Markus’s eyes.

  The shrivelled mage glanced in Jyx’s direction. Jyx sat staring dead ahead, pasting a look of total immersion on his face. The professor looked away again. Jyx let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

  “Jyx. Pssst. What’s that?”

  The tip of Markus’s feather quill tickled the edge of Jyx’s vision. He snorted, knowing to turn any further would bring the professor back there, asking why he wasn’t listening to Reetha.

  “It’s none of your concern,” Jyx hissed through his teeth.

  “That’s advanced stuff.”

  Jyx turned and glared at Markus. The older boy fell silent and turned away, apparently keen to avoid the heat of Jyx’s gaze.

  The book bore the brunt of his glare instead. Jyx flicked to the final chapter, labelled Homunculi. Jyx broke into a grin, swiftly hidden behind the book to avoid detection, as he came across an illustration of men made of clay. In the drawing, some held tools while others followed their human masters, loaded with heavy burdens. There was definitely a market for homunculi in the Underground City, and if he could figure out how to make one…

  He turned the page and stifled an exclamation of annoyance. Two jagged strips of paper nestled in the crease between the last page and the next. The list of ingredients was present on the back of the illustrated page, but the pages containing the necessary sigils and incantations were missing. Jyx cursed under his breath. If he had his way, it would become a capital offence to deface a library book.

  Muted applause broke at that moment and Jyx looked up. Reetha returned to her seat, her face red. Professor Tourney peered after her, his papery face as impassive as ever. Jyx always thought the old mage looked like an eagle forced into a man suit, with his hooked nose and feathery hair.

  “Very well done, Ms Edstow. Your phrasing is impeccable. Although perhaps next time you could focus upon incantations that provide a measurable result?”

  Reetha flushed again and bent her head down. Her curtain of silvery blond hair swept forward to obscure her face and embarrassment from view. Jyx fought the urge to snort. Her phrasing was substandard and she’d copied the incantation structure from Fforde’s Guide to Manifestation.

  “Well, class. On the whole, you produced some solid work. Very good foundations for this semester,” Professor Tourney said. “However, at least three of you need to work very hard. I am disturbed by the outcomes of your incantations.”

  He hauled himself to his feet, gripping the handle of his cane with claw-like hands. Three students stared at their desks, trying to ignore the multi-coloured frogs hopping around the floor—frogs which, in a perfect world, would have been robins. They had got it wrong but at least they made something happen, unlike Reetha, thought Jyx as he glared at the back of Reetha’s head.

  “I recommend that you each study chapters two and three of Fforde’s, although it is advisable that you do not copy his incantations exactly. It is important that you read and understand what you see. Do not skip the important phrases, but you must also include your personal clauses. This is what will ensure success.”

  The professor waved his hands around as he talked, punctuating each sentence with a finger poke aimed at the ceiling. Jyx smirked. At least the professor had noticed what Reetha had done.

  “What about your book, professor?” Reetha asked.

  “I would also recommend that you study my book, yes. This is not mindless self-promotion. This is simple fact. I am not a professor of incantations for nothing, no? While you are discussing these things over lunch, you may wish to speak to Jyximus Faire. He clearly has a head for this subject.”

  Jyx started at the mention of his name, but his surprise spread across his face as a smile. Professor Tourney never complimented anyone. If he didn’t find the class too basic for his abilities, he would have been proud.

  The professor hauled the door open and swept out of the classroom. The students erupted into chatter as they gathered their books. Several shot envious looks in Jyx’s direction. He ignored them. The highborn students would never confront him openly, not a scholarship student from the Underground City. Markus ignored their contempt and hung back with Jyx.

  “Jyx, why are you reading about earth magick?”

  “Because I can.” Jyx swept the two books into his satchel. He’d need to take back the earth magick book, but he couldn’t decide if he should notify the librarian about the missing pages. He wasn’t authorised to take the book out until next year, but if another student reported the damage, the librarian might run one of her charms and find out Jyx was the last person to read it.

  “But it’s not on this year’s syllabus.”

  “So? I understand it now. Why should I wait until next year to study it?” Jyx looked past Markus, trying to spot Missa. She threw an apologetic glance over her shoulder as her friends swept her out of the room.

  “But where did you get it?” Markus asked.

  “It’s amazing what you can find in the library. You should try it some time.”

  Jyx hurried away from Markus, heading into the corridor. A stream of students clattered past the classroom, and Jyx tagged along with the crowd. Yes, it truly was amazing what you could find in the library, and he knew exactly what to look for that night.

  3

  Darkness surrounded him when he awoke with a start. Jyx tried to stretch but his fingers met cold, smooth oak. He couldn’t stretch his legs either, as his feet pressed up against something solid. Jyx tried to roll over but wood met him on every side. Panic seized him like a leathery hand around his throat. Madame Snytches was known to lock errant students in the chest in her office. Was this the infamous chest? Had Markus turned evidence on him and given him up?

  Jyx scrabbled at his wooden tomb until he could wriggle onto his side, legs tucked behind him and arms across his chest. He explored the wall in front of him with his fingers until he found a crack. The panicked hand loosened its grip on his throat. He worked his nails along the crack until he found a keyhole.

  The memory clattered through his brain, dragging wakefulness behind it. He wasn’t imprisoned in a chest. He was hiding. Jyx had climbed into the empty cabinet in the library and drawn the doors closed behind him. He must have fallen asleep waiting for the librarians to leave. Their mindless chatter had invaded his thoughts and made him dream of dancing teacups.

  He opened the cabinet door a crack and pressed his face up to the narrow opening. The library lay beyond, spread out in silence like a banquet of knowledge awaiting hungry guests. Moonlight streamed through the stained glass windows, painting vivid pictures across the flagstone floor. Only
the gentle tick of the ornate grandfather clock disturbed the peace.

  Jyx pushed the door, slithered out of his hiding place, and sprawled across the floor. He rolled onto his back and seized his numb legs, digging his nails into the muscles to spark life into his limbs. Spikes of pain flared in his calves as feeling returned, and he hauled himself upright using the cabinet. He closed the door and drew a sigil over the lock. The librarians would continue to believe the cabinet to be out of use, leaving it empty for his nocturnal excursions into the archives.

  The spiral staircase lay on the other side of the vaulted room. Jyx bent down to pull off his boots, and padded across the floor in his stockinged feet. The staircase stood beside the window that depicted the virtues of diligence and quiet reflection. Jyx suppressed a snort. If he stuck to those, he wouldn’t be sneaking around the library at night, and he certainly wouldn’t be working on next year’s textbooks while topping all of this year’s classes.

  The worn stone steps led up to the narrow gallery that clung to the walls above the stacks. During the day, a fearsome Wolfkin barred access to the staircase, and only those with a signed and stamped permit could pass. Even the students with permits were terrified of the massive guardian, a muscled warrior with the head of a wolf. At night, the Wolfkin slept curled like a puppy in a wicker basket, its armour propped up against the bookshelves. Jyx dipped a hand into the pouch hanging from his belt, and withdrew a fistful of sleeping dust. The high mages in the Autumn Gloaming made the best powder, but he’d made do with cheap sand and geo magick sigils. Jyx blew the dust across the Wolfkin. It stirred once and began to snore.

  Jyx stole up the staircase. The librarians kept their most dangerous or valuable texts in the gallery. Some of the books were so treacherous they were bound shut with powerful enchantments even Jyx couldn’t unravel. Others were simply rare, and stored inside glass boxes on the shelves. The book Jyx sought was neither dangerous nor rare—simply reserved for more advanced students.

  The Dominantur Umbras nestled between two ancient books bound in dragon skin. Jyx worked his fingers between the books and slid the Dominantur free, careful not to yank its spine or break its binding. Dark phantoms twisted within the depths of its slate-grey cover, its name a smudge of gold in the darkness. A double frisson of trepidation and excitement fluttered along Jyx’s soul. This was shadow magick, only a hop, skip and a jump away from the darkest magicks of all.

  At his touch, the cover flipped open. A pale lavender square of parchment clung to the title page. Jyx recognised the flowing script of the warning as the handwriting of Madame Snytches.

  The Dominantur Umbras is reserved for students in the fourth year or higher, and should be issued only to those students believed to be responsible and mature. The Academy accepts no responsibility for loss or injury sustained following the use of this text.

  Being caught with the book would definitely lead to a night in the notorious chest and Jyx shuddered. He flicked past the warning to the introduction. Densely packed text described the principles of shadow theft, enslavement and proper maintenance. Theft didn’t concern him. There were plenty of unscrupulous traders in the Underground City who would give up their shadows for a few coins, and shadow slaves would make his mother’s household chores a lot easier. Maybe he could sell them and earn a few coins himself.

  Jyx closed the Dominantur and slid the book into his satchel, pre-lined with a square of blanket from his bed at home. He wouldn’t be able to read the book at home; taking it out of the Academy would set off all kinds of alarms, and he’d probably lose his library privileges altogether.

  Nothing stopping me reading this in here, though.

  He patted his bag and headed back towards the spiral staircase. He’d told his mother he would be staying with Markus Prady tonight, knowing she would never dare breach the class boundaries between families to check up on him. He’d be able to study all night.

  The Wolfkin stirred as he passed, and Jyx hurried across the library towards the reading area on the far side of the room. Tall bookshelves filled to groaning point with ancient tomes screened the reading area from the rest of the library. Jyx chose a table in the corner, and settled into the overstuffed chair. He pulled his parchment and quill from his satchel, flipped open the Dominantur, and began to read.

  * * *

  A raven sat on the sill, peering through the window at the rebellious student. It knew the type; it had seen that thirsty expression before. It never ended well.

  The raven took flight, bearing news of Jyx’s transgression to a higher authority.

  * * *

  Jyx walked along the corridor in the direction of his Sigils class. The taste of bacon lingered on his tongue, and he licked the last of the coffee from his lips. The canteen staff only allowed students one cup of the hallowed drink at breakfast, but Jyx’s bleary eyes had convinced one of the nicer servers to give him a second. Jyx stifled a yawn and considered the possibility that Madam Edifer might notice his tiredness.

  Still, the night spent reading the Dominantur had been worth it. The sheaf of papers in his satchel held copious notes, and while parts of the text proved dense or difficult, Jyx thought he’d understood most of it. He’d even managed to snare the tiny shadow of a moth that had blundered into the library, only setting it free just before he left. The book proved so engrossing he had barely noticed the sun come up, and he’d managed to return the book to the gallery and slip out of the library with only seconds to spare. He’d had to pretend to adjust his bootlaces outside the door to explain his presence to the librarians that morning.

  “Jyximus Faire?”

  Jyx stopped. A gnome stood in the corridor before him, flanked by a Wolfkin. The guard glared at him, yellow eyes burning in its wolfish face. The black fur of its canine head gave way to smooth black skin, encased in Academy armour. The gnome wore the royal blue robes of Administration, and Jyx recognised the emblem of the Academy’s dean at his collar.

  “Yes?”

  “Dean Whittaker wishes to see you.” The gnome turned to walk away, content that his statement would be taken as an order, rather than a request.

  “Why?”

  “If you come with us, you’ll find out.” The gnome cast a baleful glare over his shoulder.

  The gnome led Jyx away from the main corridor into a wide passage to their left. Ancient tapestries covered the walls, depicting different scenes within magickal history. As with most stories told of battles or struggles, the illustrated events didn’t agree with each other, depending on who produced them. The staff used them as an example to students to never accept anything blindly, but to always seek further knowledge. As much as he hoped it would, Jyx didn’t think this maxim would help much if his nocturnal library visits were discovered.

  Dean Whittaker’s office lay at the centre of a labyrinth of passages, designed to prevent all but the most necessary excursions to intrude on his time. A massive oak door swung inwards, and the gnome scampered through, the slapping of his bare feet on stone arrested by the sudden appearance of carpet. The Wolfkin nudged Jyx forward and he stumbled into the room.

  Bookcases lined every wall, and magickal apparatus covered every available flat space. Dean Whittaker did not tend towards modesty or minimalism. He wanted to display all he knew and all he owned. Jyx gazed at the books, his fingers itching to pry one free of its shelf. He could only dream of their contents.

  Dean Whittaker sat in a large, high-backed chair beyond a vast, ebony desk. Magickal symbols made of mother-of-pearl were inlaid in the desk’s surface, and a large phoenix feather quill lay on the blotter in front of the dean. He gestured to the empty seat across the desk. Jyx hesitated, and felt the Wolfkin’s clawed hand land on his right shoulder. The guard propelled Jyx forward and pushed him down into the seat. Jyx straightened his robes and tossed an indignant look at the Wolfkin.

  “Jyximus Faire. How nice to see you.”

  Dean Whittaker sat back in his tall chair. Jyx forced himself to make ey
e contact with the dean, but shudders ran down his spine to see the dancing flames in the dean’s empty sockets. Jyx didn’t even want to think about how the dean would actually “see” him.

  “Dean Whittaker.”

  “I’m a very busy man, Mr Faire, so I’ll get to the point. I’m assuming you’re wondering why you’ve been called to my office?”

  The dean steepled his fingers, his white skin stretched taut across his knuckles.

  Jyx swallowed hard. “The thought did cross my mind, sir.”

  Jyx’s mind fluttered from the geo magick book in his satchel, to the stolen hours with the Dominantur Umbras the night before. He risked a sideways glance at the Wolfkin behind him. He didn’t think it was the same one from the library, but he couldn’t be sure.

  “We have a lot of students at the Academy, Mr Faire. Many of them pay good money to be here. Several of them perform to an exceptional standard, yourself included. Have no fear, we’re aware of your abilities, but standards are what this Academy is founded upon. Do you understand?”

  Jyx nodded but a cold slug of fear crawled down his spine. He resisted the urge to sniff his fingers, convinced the smell of ancient book dust on his hands would give him away. He didn’t think the dean’s sunken nose would smell it, but the Wolfkin certainly would.

  “Of course you do. You’re a bright boy. Almost too bright, one might say. I am well aware that you feel we are holding you back.”

  The flames in the dean’s eyes burned slightly colder than before. Jyx wriggled in the seat until a clawed hand clamped down on his shoulder. He forced himself to look at the dean, convinced that his ears had turned an unpleasant shade of red.

  “Wh-what makes you say that, sir?”

  “The fact that you hide advanced textbooks in your satchel, which you even have the temerity to read in class, and the fact that you regularly sneak into the library after hours to read texts which are often beyond the level of some of this Academy’s professors, let alone your classmates. Never mind the declarations, Mr Faire, I know about it all.”