The Storm Lords by Ravon Silvius

Author:Ravon Silvius [Silvius, Ravon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy
ISBN: 978-1-63533-668-9
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2017-08-08T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

“SO, THAT went a bit oddly, didn’t it?” Franken echoed thoughts Kristoff had been avoiding since Rowen left for home. Night had fallen, and they sat outside in darkness eased only by the light of the moon in a clear sky, drinking beers Franken had bought from a store run by a Darsean trader. The lack of sun did little to cool them down, and Kristoff still sweated, even without the heat of the usual sconces burning to light the paths. Kristoff wished he were in the far north, where people put ice in their drinks. Not even the Darseans had a way to transport ice, not in this weather.

“Benjamin did fine,” he said.

“You know I’m not talking about Benjamin,” Franken said.

Kristoff’s chair creaked beneath him, and he waved away an insect that buzzed past his ear. “What do you mean?”

Franken snorted. “Always so obtuse. I mean Rowen falling toward the island, not away. Not sweating when it’s probably ninety degrees in the sun or even reacting when he’s supposedly sensing the heat spell.”

“Are you saying he was lying?”

“No. I’m saying it’s odd.” Franken sipped his beer. “I do think he sensed something—there’s no other way to explain the typical student sway.” That was what they called it when a new student sensed a heat spell for the first time—they were always pushed away by the overwhelming sense of heat and usually ended up falling over. Kristoff had almost let Rowen hit the ground when his student had toppled in the opposite direction students sensing heat spells were supposed to fall. “But he fell toward the heat. He got goose bumps. It’s like he was moving away from the cold front, as though that was the thing that caused discomfort.” He shook his head, taking a swig from his beer and frowning at the little liquid that was left. “I’ve never seen that before.”

Kristoff hadn’t either, and he tried to hide the anxiety that crawled up his back by pretending to shoo away another bug. “Maybe he was lying about sensing anything and was just reacting to the ocean water. I think he’s afraid of it.”

“That doesn’t explain that little drawing of his. Where, I’ll remind you, the arrows were pointing the wrong way too.”

Kristoff grimaced. “He’s from the southwest regions, Franken!” He threw up his hands. “He’s most likely used to heat far worse than this. Maybe this heat spell is nothing to him, or maybe he did sense it, but not strongly enough for the usual reaction students have, and he was just afraid of the ocean!”

“So I take it you haven’t taught him to swim?”

Kristoff caught the change in tone—Franken was changing the subject, obviously aware he had upset Kristoff. He wished he could manage his own emotions better. He wished he knew what to do. If only Rowen could speak! He took another sip of beer, willing the creeping uncertainty to go away. “I’m going to teach him tomorrow.”

“That’s likely for the best. Scuttlebutt says they’re going to have you dispel the heat spell in two days, though.

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