Magic in the Air: The Prodigy and The Apprentice

Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Unlike Book One, Book Two of Magic in the Air has not yet been fully edited. I hope that any errors or awkward phrasing that might remain don't dampen your enjoyment of the story.

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A sombre mood filled the mess hall. There were just as many people around just as many tables as usual for the early afternoon, but the usual din was more of a murmur. Light streamed in through the building's large ground floor windows, but few smiled. Fewer laughed.

Orin entered the mess then, only a handful of heads turned towards him. Hope glimmered in at least a few eyes. Orin was too focused on the table waiting for him to see it fade once people recognized that he was just hear to eat and talk. Luckily for Orin his focus also kept him from noticing the faces that hardened as he walked in, and the curses that scuttled between those faces.

"Orin!" Dean turned to get a good look at his mentor.

"Hey boy. If you're looking for news, there is none. Things are just the same as they were yesterday, even before that."

Dean's face darkened. The image of the dark pool left where Martin had been standing at the demonstration flashed through his memory.

"At least that means that he's stable, right?"

It took Orin several seconds to turn to Eloise. "Stable? Yeah. Martin should be fine after all of this." He smiled for a heartbeat and his face brightened. Dean thought he would have thumbed his noise if he had been speaking days earlier. "It's just a few scratches and a little cut after all."

Just a few scratches? Dean was sure that he couldn't have been the only one to see that dark pool left after Triadaphylos had ended the exhibition and Martin was taken out of the square. It looked like the stones beneath that blood would never be grey again. He stared into his mug, hoping for the man's recovery. Even if he helped make these turbines, he's not a bad person. Dean's mind wandered over to Edgar and what he had seen of him at the exhibition. It wasn't much, but something about him and his smile confirmed Dean's sense of dread at his name alone.

The three of them sat in silence for a time. Dean cupped his hands around his mug, handle and base, but never lifted it from the table. He stared forward, vaguely aware of the other people at other tables in the mess hall. Finally, Eloise spoke.

"It's Frances, isn't it?" She watched Orin as she spoke. But the man's expression seemed genuine. "Not even I have heard anything about her since the demonstration."

Orin looked at the girl. He saw her, yes, but he searched for something more in her pale green eyes. Dean could see her starting to squirm under his mentor's weird gaze.

Orin sighed. "I'm a terrible liar."

Dean perked up. Eloise leaned close.

"Neither of you can share this with anyone. Not even me – that's how serious this all is."

The two apprentices nodded. Dean saw a familiar glint in Orin's eye.

"Immediately after the demonstration, Frances was confined to her quarters. The trial was this morning. She said her piece. I said mine. So did the rest of the council." A grin bounced onto the man's face. "Even Martin. Via messenger, anyway." The grin bounced away and Orin turned to Eloise. He leaned in. She did the same. Dean felt himself blushing, but couldn't understand why. "Frances has been exiled from the council." Orin's gaze dropped. "From the guild, too."

Eloise stared at the top of Orin's hung head.

He couldn't be sure because of the dimness of the corner the three had met in, but Dean thought he saw a tear twinkle in the young woman's eye. He couldn't hold back, so his whisper came out hoarse.