Flameseeker (Book 3) Read Free Page B

dependent
on me, or do they simply wish to have a familiar face amongst them again? He stood. “May I be dismissed, Elder?”
    Burke nodded solemnly and sat back in his chair.
The other members watched Jarial with concern.
    “Thank you. And I do hope you will find Master
Faulk and Omari soon.” With a respectful bow, he took his leave through the
chamber’s double wooden doors.
    As students and lower-ranking administration were
forbidden in the Council’s wing without permission, the long, dark halls were
quiet enough for Jarial to hear the echo of his own footsteps. He heard the
muffled voices of the Councilmembers continue beyond the doors of the main chamber
as he drew further away.
    Have I really become so powerful that I have
set some sort of standard here? Jarial thought, idly gazing at the torches
lining the smooth stone walls. Dim halos flickered and danced throughout the
narrow hall, providing a lighted path toward a spiral stairwell that led to the
main hall of the Citadel.
    As he descended the stairs, he mulled over recent
events. It was strange that, despite not having walked those halls in
twenty-six years, he had been welcomed by students and Councilmembers alike.
He’d recognized most of the faculty, and many of the students, who had all been
small children when last he saw them.
    Amber-hued light from the main hall greeted Jarial
as he descended the final step. Some students and administration lingered
there, while others hustled to their classes. A majestic marble fountain sat in
the middle of the hall. A vestibule, which divided the main hall, had been
transformed into a massive library, the Library of the Sun, holding the books
of most use to novice students. Two other libraries—the Library of the Moon, on
the second floor, and the Library of the Stars, on the third floor—served the
more advanced and specialized students.
    Jarial thought about the days he and Xavorin had
frequented the Library of the Sun. They had been young, then, and still new to
the Art. Jarial glimpsed a group of students, exchanging notes at a table, and
his heart ached. Once upon a time, he and Xavorin had sat at that same table,
studying for a test.
    Jarial tore his gaze from the library and focused
his attention elsewhere. Why? Why did you betray me, Xavorin? After all I
did for you....
    A small commotion coming from near the fountain interrupted
his thoughts. He slowly approached the group of students and faculty, who had
crowded excitedly around a tall young man with a bald head. The man leaned on a
wooden staff with carved runes that gleamed with energy. His robes, which
Jarial realized were of that of a Citadel student’s, were shabby and torn from
days of travel. His tattooed face looked exhausted, yet determination glowed in
his narrow, slanted brown eyes. Sitting on his shoulder was a brown long-tailed
sand weasel.
    “Omari! You’ve returned!” one student exclaimed.
“How did your test go? Did you pass?”
    Omari turned to the student, a young woman, who
had managed to squeeze through the crowd to stand by him, staring admiringly.
Without a word, he held his staff aloft. It crackled with electricity, and the
students around him gasped in awe. He smiled. “I would say that it was a
success.”
    Several administrators approached and broke up the
crowd. Groans and disappointed murmurs swept across the hall as everyone
reluctantly dispersed and returned to their daily duties. Omari was directed to
the stairs leading up to the Council’s wing.
    He brushed past Jarial’s shoulder and glanced back
at him with the eyes of the determined child Jarial had once known.
    That determined child, it seemed, was now a man.
    Gods, Jarial thought, I really am
getting old.

 
     
     
     
     
    III
     
     
    Jarial watched Omari make his way out of the main
hall and toward the spiral staircase leading up to the Council’s wing. Once the
young mage had vanished around the curve of the stairway, Jarial murmured “ Tacete