Aldrin's Arc

Chapter 2 of 9

Aldrin followed the killer's trail to the old quarter, but the hooded man was gone. He stood in an empty alley with a glowing flower in his fist and nothing else. He knew the mark. He had seen it in his master's hidden book. But he could not remember which rite it named, and the book was gone. Sealed in the murder room, behind wax and iron. Without the name, the flower proved a crime, not a killer. Only one person could help. Aldrin crossed the city by rooftops and shadowed doors, keeping clear of the watch. He reached the great arcane college and climbed to a high window. Inside, the halls glowed under a silver chandelier hung with fae crystals. He slipped down a corridor lined with heartwood desks and stopped at a door he knew. Cedric sat bent over a black ash desk stacked with books. Purple magic curled from his fingers as he traced a barrier rune. He was Aldrin's oldest friend, the one who once held a shield over him for three hours so he would not die. Cedric looked up. His face did not change. "They expelled you," Cedric said. "If they find you here, they hang you." "I know." Aldrin set the flower on the desk. Its light spilled across the books. "Someone framed me. This bound the mark to his body. Three linked circles, one broken." Cedric stared at the bloom. He did not touch it. "That's a forbidden rite. I've seen the shape." "I saw it too. In his hidden book. But I can't remember the name, and the book's sealed in the room where he died." Cedric rose. He pulled a thin volume from his shelf and flipped pages fast. He stopped and turned the book toward Aldrin. On the page, three circles linked, one broken. "The Severing Rite," Cedric read. "It strips a mage's power and prints his signature on whatever it kills. Only a master could cast it." The words landed hard. Aldrin's breath caught. The killer was no street mage. He was someone trained, someone strong enough to break another's magic. Someone who had known his master. "A master," Aldrin said. "Then the killer studied here. Or taught here." Cedric closed the book. "That narrows it to men who'd hang us both for asking." He looked at the door, then back. "You can't stay. But you have a name now. Use it." A bell rang below. Boots struck stone in the courtyard. Cedric went to the window and looked down. "The watch," he said. "Someone saw you climb." Aldrin snatched the flower and the borrowed book. He had the rite's name at last. He knew the killer was a master of the old craft. But the watch had found him inside the college walls, and now they had a second reason to hang him.