First Apprentice

Chapter 32 Part 1

An hour later, I nursed a tin mug of mulled cider while Terry interrogated my team leaders. My head lolled back against the log as I slumped down, half-asleep. Their discussion washed over me unheeded while a coin-sized seal hidden in the felt slippers one of Philip's helpers set out for me transcribed their chat. I'd read it later. Technically, I would shove it into a crystal and burn it into my mind along with today's correspondence. Same thing.

The tin mug slipped from my fingers, rattling against the floor without spilling the last swallow of cider, as my eyes drifted shut. I shouldn't sleep here. It wasn't safe, but Endellion would roast Terry alive if he tried anything, assuming my sealers and Mei didn't get him first.

Heat licked at my skin. I basked in the warmth, letting my mind drift further into sleep. Icy finger crept up my spine like frost inching across a window pane. My eyes snapped open.

Firelight danced off a Dracon's brown scales. The memory of Endellion battling Terry rose unbidden. Bronze and black, not brown. Tylar? I frowned, trying to remember if I'd seen him shift. No, but brown matched the description he gave me. Brown with burnished silver spots on his arms like a leopard, I believed. It was a memorable combination.

"You dare to come here protesting your innocence when your willful blindness nearly cost me my mate. Now, you want to punish our apprentice because she wisely elected to not consult you. Let me enlighten you on the true state of the Sealer Corps. A quarter of your commandants were trained by Dev. How do you think they will react when they learn you punished Alannah-dae for using her inheritance to hire him a healer? Mitchel's legions?"

"Mitra's legions," Terry said firmly. He leaned back against the log, arms thrown across the back and legs akimbo as if he hadn't a care in the world. It was an act. The crimson flames in his aura drowned out the usual wine red.

Tylar's bitter laughter filled the cavern. "We are not loyal to Mitra. Never were. Mitra's spent the last fifty years trying to get rid of Mitchel's commandants without success. Then he made me choose between my men and Maria. He screamed like a wounded cat when I dropped my resignation on Joel's desk instead of his. I hear Joel poached one of your commandants for my legion, another one of Dev's trainees personally promoted by Mitchel. We are Mitchel's. If you think we'll choose you over his granddaughter, you've lost what little intelligence you possessed. A few whispers in the right ears and you'll have a mutiny unlike any seen since the Marstallis Accords on your hands."

"Mind your oaths!"

"Mind yours," Tylar snapped back. "You swore to protect the Gates, not clan interests! You are a ferepris dae, our interim chief, Alannah's mentor. For once in your life, act like it!"

"I am. Alannah, if the Dracon Gate falls tonight, what will happen to the Central Keystone?"

I grimaced. For centuries, the Border Guard used the Central Keystone as an energy source. Since Katia's ban prohibited giving the gates new souls, the Border Guard shuffled the existing ones. The Central Keystone started with over eight times the souls needed for a keystone gate. He was also younger, less damaged, and had a ferepris oversoul, making him the logical donor. They took until he no longer had any left to give. When they asked for more, Selim shuffled his guardians around and upped his maintenance needs then gave as asked because it was his duty.

My eyes darted between my sealers, noting their tense shoulders and the fear flickering in their auras. Although I hinted that the Central Keystone wasn't as stable as the clans and the Seven implied, I never revealed the facts behind my nightmares. There wasn't anything they could do about it anyway.

Terry caught my gaze and mouthed, "Tell them."

I gritted my teeth. "The Central Keystone currently measures seven-hundred-ninety-eight on the Drest Scale with the clan keystone's averaging nine-hundred-fifteen." Confusion flickered through their auras. Were they unfamiliar with the Drest Scale itself or did they realize the Central Keystone normally averaged sixteen hundred and had for the last five centuries? "Problem?" I asked.

"What's that on the S.O.A.G scale?" Kevin asked, leaning forward like an eager schoolboy.

My lips twitched. The others remained tense, their eyes darting between Terry and me as if waiting for an attack, but Kevin was as inquisitive as ever.

"Meaningless," Terry replied, mirroring my thoughts on the academy's preferred scale.

It was a decent teaching tool and introduced the basic idea — souls plus oversoul plus ambient magic when summoned plus guardians — but grossly inaccurate because it placed quantity over quality. For instance, the Central Keystone's Master Guardian Tessa, a class two Dae, Rainer's great-granddaughter, and his third seat, counted the same as Vinetta's, who wouldn't last ten seconds against her. She also had four times the magic.

Terry frowned. "Isn't the Drest scale covered during your professional studies lectures?"

"We're not allowed to attend," Stefan said, speaking up for the first time. "Mitra's lectures aren't open like Mitchel's were. You can't show up and sign a slip of paper stating you attended afterward. You must enroll, which requires your apprentice's signature. Until a few days ago, we didn't have an apprentice to sign Mitra's forms. He will not accept your secretary's signature because she's the wrong corps nor will he accept another apprentice's. Arash, Gemma, and Luis have all signed enrollment forms for us. They were all denied because we weren't theirs."

"There's no excuse for skipping a mandatory lecture. You all had one or more apprentices before transferring to my office."