Abaddon's Mark

Chapter Five

Maeno left Naena in the Mason library. The sun was beginning to set. School started the next morning once more, and he wanted to get a good night's rest before that all started again. As he stepped out from the protection of the archway and into the light sleet which came down, he found Graydon Pan standing before the arch.

Looming like some ghost or vampire, lurking on the edge of holy ground.

The heir wore a Pan travel cloak and held a wrapped parcel against his hip. The hood of the cloak was pulled up, but his face was lit by the lanterns which stood outside the gates of the church.

When Graydon saw Maeno, he adjusted, looking past Maeno.

Searching for Naena.

"She's in the library," Maeno said. "They have some books on the Bard which may have some key to a puzzle of hers. It's not a good time, Graydon."

"It's Sunday," the man responded gruffly. "It's never a good time on Sunday."

"I mean, she's pretty deep in this puzzle. Best to leave her to it, let her expend her energy on this."

"She'll come out this way?"

"I suppose so, yes."

"Good, I'll wait then."

"It's freezing cold out here."

"That's why I brought her a cloak," was the gruff response as the package shifted.

"Uh... okay?" Maeno said slowly as he edged his way around Graydon.

He glanced back at the heir, once.

Pan red stood stark and bright against the greys of the city at dusk. Even the yellow of the lantern light could not alter the brightness. Like blood on fresh snow, Pan stood tall and still. Unmoving as those moving down the street parted around him, too aware of what such a colour meant.

Shuddering, Maeno focused on finding his way along the slippery roads. The sleet collected along the cracks of the road and hid them from his eye. It soaked into his leather boots, finding its way easily into a hole along the outside of the right boot.

He would report the issue to the servants, though he doubted anything would be done about it. He would be better off attempting to fix it himself.

He had no cloak, for it was supposed to be a fine day. He was quite soaked to his bones as he arrived at the school and hurried his way into the baths. Clambering into a steaming tub, he groaned and glanced around.

The place was empty.

Behind him, he heard a sound like the scuff of a foot on a stone. He turned in the tub, glancing behind him as his heart began pounding in his ears.

In a tub of water, alone.

If it came to a physical fight, he could take most in the school. If it came to magic, he was not yet sure where he stood. Maeno climbed out of the tub and grabbed the liquid shampoo. He drew a casting circle and quickly added the second before he placed the dots. He looked up as he laid his hands on the outside of the spell.

Nendan leaned against a pillar, watching him, eyebrows raising.

"What's that?" he asked.

Black darkened the edges of Maeno's vision as he let out a breath. He managed to drag another in before everything went dark.

When he came to, he lay in the infirmary, blankets over him—a hot rag over his forehead and a mugginess permeating the very air.

A healer slipped into his little curtained off area, looked down at him, grunted, and walked back out again, nose in the air.