Mark of the Fool 8: A Progression Fantasy Epic, page 10
“Erm, Professor Jules, is it?” a small voice spoke up.
The professor looked to where Merzhin was standing. He’d never looked so small as his eyes drifted down, not meeting her gaze. “Most of the fault lies with me. I am the one who could have stopped her from being taken. I am the one who could have saved her. I—”
“No,” Tyris interrupted him, her voice like flint. “You don’t get to do that. You know whose fault this is? The damn monsters who kidnapped her. And they’re still out there, needing vengeance and justice rained down on their heads. Listen to Carey’s last words: we can blame ourselves later. I know I will. Right now, we have to focus on what comes next.”
“What do you mean?” Professor Jules asked, her voice weak. “What else has happene—” She paused. “Hold on now, how did you all know her last words? You said she died before you could reach her.”
“It’s a long story, Professor,” Alex said. “Just… strap yourself in. It’s going to be a lot.”
And so they told her everything.
They recounted the battle and detailed who they’d faced. They told her of Carey’s sacrifice, as well as her resurrection. They told her of the Traveller’s increasing divinity. They told her of the First Apostle and how he and the other faithful escaped. They told her of Uldar, his sanctum, his death, and that he’d made the Ravener.
Alex showed her the book the god had recorded his processes in. “We’re going to need your help figuring this stuff out, as well as Baelin’s, but we don’t know when he’s coming back.”
Professor Jules stared at Uldar’s notebook. “You mean to tell me you found the god of Thameland’s cadaver? And—oh my goodness… I was not prepared for this. You left his sanctum under guard?”
“Yes, we did,” Watcher Hill said.
“I’ll have to send more Watchers to reinforce your guards. And we’ll have to think about how to handle this… Do we tell the king? This could be an international incident… You know what? We’ll need time to sleep on this and process all of it. All of you, go get yourselves some rest. I need to think,” Professor Jules said.
“Um, before I go,” Alex said. “I need to talk to you, Professor. Alone.”
Chapter 13
The Alchemist and the Fool
Professor Jules looked at Alex like the only thing she wanted more than a strong drink was to simply crawl away.
“I take it this is urgent, Mr. Roth?” she said reluctantly.
A part of the young wizard wanted to scream that it wasn’t and scurry away. That part wanted to present her with a long string of excuses and stall the conversation so he could hide for just a bit longer.
It desperately wanted things to remain the same: for his secret to stay with only his family, his close friends, and Baelin.
But he knew it was too late for that.
His secret was out.
It was time to face it.
“Yes, it’s urgent,” Alex said.
Professor Jules sighed, then nodded to the others. “Alright, clear out and get some rest. Mr. Roth and I need to chat.”
Those closest to Alex gave him a long look before saying their goodbyes and moving toward the door, leaving him alone with the professor. Most looked dead on their feet; they’d earned their rest. Theresa squeezed his hand, giving him a small smile and a nod of encouragement.
The smile he returned was weak as she turned to go, shutting the door behind herself and Brutus.
Professor Jules’ eyes lingered on the door for a while before looking at Alex, her face barely hiding a frown. “Forgive me, Mr. Roth, but I am a little overloaded on bad news. You’ll have to excuse me if I seem hesitant. It’s been a long few weeks.”
“I get it.” Alex leaned forward in his chair. His elbows rested on his thighs, and he cupped his chin in his hands. “I’m pretty through with bad news myself. But… this news is… well, it’s still bad… ish. It’s actually more complicated than bad, really.”
“Oh good. Because more complicated is exactly what we need,” Professor Jules groaned. “So what is it? Mr. Roth? What do you have to tell me?”
Alex sighed, slowly unlacing his shirt.
Professor Jules’ eyes bulged. “Mr. Roth, don’t tell me you have some terrible injury you hid from the others.”
“No, it’s something else,” he admitted, pulling back his shirt, revealing his right shoulder. “Listen, just let me show this to you first. Process it. Then I’ll answer any questions you have. I think you’ll probably have a lot.”
“Alright,” she said, peering at him, her expression a mixture of curiosity, confusion, and dread.
Inhaling like he was taking his last breath, Alex dismissed the illusion on his shoulder.
The golden glow of the Mark of the Fool began to shine. First the jester’s floppy hat appeared, then his wide grin, and finally, his pointy chin. In less than a second, the Mark of the Fool was there, grinning in his full glory, revealed to Professor Jules, no longer a secret.
For a while, she squinted at it with tired eyes. “A tattoo? Why on earth…”
She trailed off.
Her eyes narrowed further, then bulged as she gasped, “You… is that what I think it is?”
Alex slowly nodded. “Yes.”
“By the gods!” she cried, gripping her temples. “I swear, life won’t be satisfied until I have a stroke today! You are the Fool of Thameland? The missing Fool of Thameland?”
“Never missing.” Alex shook his head. “Just hidden.”
“And this Mark…” She frowned, searching her memories. “You cannot fight, perform spellcraft or divinity, but it enhances learning in all other fields, if I remember correctly?”
“Yes.”
She shook her head. “This explains so much. Professor Ram was driving himself to distraction trying to reach you. He thought you were simply unengaged with his subject! I’ve had professors who train battle mages wonder why you never took one of their courses; instead, you took Baelin’s insane curriculum! And your skill in alchemy!”
Professor Jules slapped her forehead. “Of course! You absorbed knowledge and techniques like you were born to them, yet you showed deficiencies in your spellcraft! By all the deities in the world! It’s so obvious!”
Alex winced, praying she wouldn’t consider his gifts cheating. “Professor—”
She held up a hand, stopping his words. “No. You said you would let me process, and then I could ask questions. Well, it is time I begin asking questions. I do not want to hear another word from you until you answer them. Is that understood?”
“Yes!”
“Good!”
Professor Jules stared at him for a long moment before moving on. “First, how do you cast spells? Then I want you to tell me who else knows. Then tell me everything about your journey to Generasi. I have the feeling that I am missing some key information in those departments.”
“Yes, Professor.”
Once again, Alex started talking, telling her everything.
By now, he could recite his story without thought, detailing his journey to the Rhinean Empire and Generasi, how he coped with the Mark as well as he did, why he chose the courses he had, his love of alchemy, and who else knew.
As he went on, Professor Jules’ expression grew darker and darker, like a thundercloud brewing on the horizon.
And when he finally finished, she looked ready to spring from her chair and strangle someone with her bare hands.
Alex thought his time had come.
“And that is all of it?” she asked.
“Yes,” he lied. He’d purposely left out the part where he’d used her lab equipment behind her back. That was something he never, ever wanted to tell her, possibly even under penalty of death. “That’s all of it.”
Professor Jules let out a low growl like a wounded beast. “Mr. Roth, I am absolutely livid.”
“Professor, I’m sorry—”
“For what?”
“Well, because you’re angry with me—”
“No, I’m not.”
“What?”
“I am not angry with you,” she insisted. “I would be very immature if I were.”
Alex’s jaw dropped. “I, I don’t understand.”
“Mr. Roth, look at me.” She met his gaze. “What is the primary thing that I teach in all of my alchemy courses? The very first thing I teach to any new alchemist?”
“Safety?” he offered.
“Exactly. Because I do not believe that the barbaric practices of old—which have claimed countless lives—should be allowed to claim any more. I believe in safety standards, Mr. Roth. I believe in peer review. I believe in letting people—especially young people—only handle dangerous situations when they are equipped with knowledge and gear that will ensure their lives are not needlessly lost to accidents and carelessness.”
She looked out the window. “It’s your church that angers me and—to a lesser degree—your god. Why would either of them think that it’s a good idea to send unprepared eighteen-year-olds into battle to face death with an entire kingdom’s responsibilities on their shoulders? You are all so young. The lot of you.”
“Who?” Alex asked.
“You Heroes. It might be easy to forget that Hart is not even twenty yet, but the poor boy lived his childhood on battlefields from what I understand. If that wouldn’t age someone beyond their years, I don’t know what would. Look at Merzhin. I only met him today, but it hurt to look at him, Mr. Roth.”
Alex winced. “Because of his grief? He took Carey’s death even harder than the rest of us.”
She shook her head. “Because he looks even younger than the rest of you, except for his eyes. He has the face of a child, Mr. Roth, but the eyes of a tired, broken old man. It’s terrible. And your situation is even worse. The church would have sent you into battle defenceless. It’s monstrous! I know my thinking might be considered naive by those who take to war either by choice or need, but I do think we should do better for the next generation. And that’s why I blame your church even more than your god.”
Again, she growled. “Uldar was an ancient being, by all standards. Of course his ways would be barbaric to us. But your church has existed for millennia. They’ve had time to learn and be better. Your priests are scholars, and yet they gladly send defenceless children to their deaths every hundred years. It’s no better than frightened kings sending their second and third progeny to be devoured by dragons. It’s a terrible thing to do to children.”
“It is,” Alex agreed, sighing with relief. “It’s cold-blooded. That’s why I want to see these damn cycles end.”
The professor sat in silence, quietly shaking her head.
“Of course you do, Mr. Roth, but I must say something. I am rather hurt by your secrecy.”
He flinched. “Really?”
“Disappointed, actually. It seems you trusted your cabal and Baelin, yet you thought you couldn’t trust me with this? Am I really so untrustworthy a mentor? Perhaps I am…”
Tears welled up in her eyes. “What kind of mentor am I? Amir gives aid to a demon-summoning monster. Miss London dies under my care. Then I find you did not trust me with your life-altering secret. Perhaps I need a sabbatical. Or retirement. I seem to be failing my pupils in crucial ways lately.”
“Listen, please don’t think that for a moment, Professor,” Alex said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I just wanted as few people to know as possible. I had no idea when or how my secret might affect my friends and loved ones, so I only told people I had to. But… you were always watching out for me, and I should have let you know. You’ve done a lot for me, and I wouldn’t be here without you,” he said, feeling a stab of guilt. “I really just wanted to keep the number of people who knew as small as possible, but you had my life in your hands during the expedition. You’ve only helped and tried to keep me safe, and I didn’t give you all the information you needed. And for that, I’m sorry.”
“Indeed,” she said. “And, Mr. Roth, answer truthfully: do you believe the attacks on the Research Castle and Miss London had anything to do with your secret?”
“No,” he said confidently. “Controlling dungeon cores seems to be what triggered those attacks against us.”
“I see. I believe that makes sense since Miss London had no such Mark and was not only attacked, but ultimately kidnapped. I will tell you this, Mr. Roth; you should be thanking every deity you pray to that these tragedies didn’t stem from you keeping that secret. If they did, we would be having an entirely different conversation. In the end—as far as it seems—your secret hurt no one. And—”
The alchemist pointed at his shoulder. “—telling others about that could have hurt you, your family, and your other loved ones. I don’t think you were right to keep it from me, but I can see why you would want to keep such a secret from most.”
“Again, I’m sorry, Professor,” Alex said, even as his mind focused on her words:
And telling others about that could have hurt you, your family, and your other loved ones.
What exactly would be gained by him confessing that he’d used her equipment behind her back? In a way, he might gain a clearer conscience by unburdening himself. He could absolve himself if he told her everything right now.
But would that help or hurt?
It would hurt her and her trust in him, while complicating things for the expedition. They needed to be a team going forward. He wasn’t sure if holding back was the ethical thing to do, but he’d have to live with his decision, and once again, he resolved he’d be taking that secret to the grave.
“Now, I suppose you told me this because your secret’s been exposed?” Professor Jules asked.
“Yes,” Alex said. “Both the strike force and the hidden church know. It’s only a matter of time before someone in the church or nobility finds out.”
“And Baelin’s not here. Damn that old goat,” Professor Jules muttered. “Of course he has to be away at such a crucial time! Of course he does! The board has been leading the university, but we need him back. Dead gods and ancient legacies are his strengths, not mine.”
“I know,” Alex said. “I wish he was here too. But I understand he has to do what he has to do.”
“Yes, but he should have left a way for us to contact him! That damned old goat!” she cursed Baelin again. “Traipsing off to who knows where. Only the stars can reach him now!”
“Yeah, I—” Alex paused, studying Jules carefully.
Only the stars can reach him now.
Why those words?
Why those words?
Alex decided to take a gamble.
“Yeah,” he said. “Who knows what world he’s on now.”
“Of course!” she moaned. “Whichever world it—” The professor ceased that train of thought, looking shocked. “Wait. Mr. Roth, do you mean to tell me that you know—”
She was choosing her words carefully.
He decided to finish her sentence for her, “—that there are other worlds populated like ours is? Yeah, I’ve been to a couple. Have you?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “Does Baelin know you know?”
“Yes… Does Baelin know you know?”
“…yes,” she said slowly.
“So we both know… and Baelin knows we know. But he didn’t tell either of us that the other one knows,” he reasoned out.
Jules was silent for a very long time. Then she stood and went toward a cabinet. “I need a drink. How about you, Mr. Roth?”
“Just give me the whole damn bottle.”
Chapter 14
The Secrets of the Stars
Alex rarely had drinks with his professors. As a matter of fact, he could probably count the number of times he’d done so on half the fingers on a single hand. Raising a few glasses… or more than a few was normally reserved for enjoying time with his friends, especially his cabal mates. But today, here he was, throwing back drinks with Professor Jules.
He remembered the very first time he’d seen her. It was the day he, Selina, Theresa, and Brutus arrived on campus. They’d watched her soar overhead on her flying disk on the way to an explosion in the Cells. Little did he know that, one day, he’d be sitting in the office of that same professor sharing dwarven whisky and conversation with her. In a way, he couldn’t believe it. Then again, there were lots of things that had happened in the last little while that he’d found hard to believe. He’d heard that some of the older members of the research expedition went out for drinks with their professors—especially after a big project, or a particularly challenging semester—and he’d even heard that some of those profs could really hold their liquor.
Alex used to think that, one day, he’d be sitting down for a drink with certain professors, like Baelin, Val’Rok, Mangal, or even Professor Hak.
Even though he’d had tea with Professor Jules, drinking strong liquor with her had never crossed his mind.
Yet, there she was, sitting in front of him, hunched over a very large tumbler of dwarven fire spirits, tossing it back like water. He had to admit, he was impressed. The liquor burned his tongue and went down his throat like liquid fire. It was all he could do to stifle a fit of coughing that was fighting to get out.
Professor Jules, however, didn’t flinch as she drained her glass, pouring herself another one. “I don’t think I’ve drunk like this since I was a student… or maybe since Toraka and I got together for her birthday. Goodness, what a disgrace I’ve become, letting one of my mentees see me like this.”
The alchemist looked older.
And tired.
So very tired.
“So.” She put the bottle down on the floor beside her. “How did you find out that there were other worlds among the stars?”
