A Wizard of the White Council (9 page)

Besides, sometimes it was fun to look nice.

Shoes clicked against concrete, and Mary walked up the sidewalk, squinting at the dorm. 

Mary looked up, grinned, and hugged her.

“Ally! Happy birthday!” 

“Thanks,” said Ally.

“Do you really live on the fifth floor?” said Mary, stepping back. She still looked too thin, having never gained back the weight she had lost over the summer. But she looked stronger. Having a job had done her good. 

“Yeah.”

Mary made a face. “That must be a pain, walking up and down those stairs every day.” 

“Not really,” said Ally. “Good exercise, keeps you in shape.”

Mary snorted. “Like, whatever. You’re in such good shape that you don’t need to keep in shape. Let’s go, I think I’m parked illegally.” 

Ally laughed. “Then we’d better hurry up. Campus security is anal about parking." A huge old Buick stood double-parked in the lot behind the dorm. “That’s your car?”

“Yup,” said Mary. Ally let herself in and sat down on the frayed upholstery. 

“You’re fifty years too young to be driving a car like this.” She pointed at the radio. “I feel like we should be listening to Lawrence Welk or Bob Hope or something.” 

Mary snickered. “Well, yeah, but it’s in one piece, it was cheap, and it runs well.” She stuck the key into the ignition and tried to start the car. The engine roared and failed to turn over. “Well, pretty good shape.” The car coughed to life, and Mary pulled into traffic. “Where do you want to go?”

Ally shrugged. “Wherever you want is fine.”

Mary shook her head. “No, no, it’s your birthday. We’ll go where you want.”

Ally rolled her eyes. “We did this all through high school, remember? I’d say that we can go where you want to go, and you’d say we can go where I want to go, and it’d take a half hour before we could decide.”

Mary giggled. “I remember! Bill would usually complain until we went someplace.” She frowned. “How is Bill, anyway? Have you heard from him?” 

“Yeah,” said Ally. “We talk on Facebook a lot.”

“How’s he like it at…where did he go?”

Ally laughed. “MIT.”

“I knew that.”

“Well, he absolutely loves it. It’s super competitive, but you know how Bill thrives on that sort of thing. He goes on and on about stuff like Boolean logic and Moore’s Law and Aristotelian syllogisms as related to programming architecture.” Ally paused. “I have absolutely no idea what any of it means.”  

“Sounds like computer geek heaven.” Mary laughed. “What’s he studying for?”

Ally thought about it. “He explained it to me once. I have absolutely no idea.” 

Mary laughed again. “Okay. So, we better decide where we’re going. I’m driving in circles here.” 

Ally shrugged. “You decide.”

Mary gave her a look. “Ally Wester, it’s your birthday, and you’ll decide.”

Ally rolled her eyes. “Fine! Turn right at the stop sign coming up.”

Mary complied. “Where are we going?”

“There’s this coffeehouse I go to every now and then,” said Ally. Thankfully, the Gracchan student had not returned since. “It’s pretty nice. They have good food, for a coffeehouse. And it’s cheap, too.”

Mary nodded. “I’m entirely in favor of cheap.” 

###

“So Bill really has a girlfriend?” said Mary.

Ally opened the coffeehouse door. “Actually, he’s had two in the last month.” 

Mary looked astonished. “Two? You have to be kidding me.”

Students at the coffeehouse’s tables in groups, studying or typing on laptops. An empty booth on the far wall caught her eye. Ally led Mary through the crowd and they sat down. 

“Is it always this crowded?” said Mary.

“I don’t know.” Ally looked over the crowd. “I’ve never been here on a Saturday before.” 

“Do we order at the counter?”

”Yup,” said Ally, and they ordered their dinner and returned to the booth.

“Two girlfriends?” said Mary, reaching for her ham sandwich. “You have to tell me more.”

“What? Oh, Bill.” Ally unwrapped her sandwich. “I guess he met his current girlfriend at an all-night Dungeons and Dragons tournament. Or something like that, anyway.”

Mary laughed. “Figures. Maybe they get together and play Warcraft.” 

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” said Ally.

Mary hesitated. “So how have you been?”

Ally blinked. “Me? I’m fine. I pulled a muscle at the studio the other day, but it’s getting better. At lot of stuff with school’s a pain,” she thought of the incident with the registrar’s office, “but it’s all going well. I don’t think I’m going to flunk anything, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

Mary fidgeted. “You look tired, that’s all.”

Ally shrugged. “Welcome to college, right? You’re only going to school part-time, but Katrina tells me you sometimes stay up till one finishing stuff.”

“Yeah, but that’s different.” Mary bit her lip. “I could go to sleep if I wanted to.” 

“So could I.”

Mary shook her head. “I think you’re having those dreams again, worse than before.”

Ally sat up straighter. “I am not!”

Mary looked her in the eye. “I think you are. You even had them when we were in Europe. Sometimes you would stay up reading or watching TV or something, but I knew you didn’t want to sleep.” 

Ally looked away. “All right. So maybe I do have nightmares. So what? Everyone has nightmares. You had a few big ones after what happened with Nathan.”

“I did,” said Mary, her voice gentle, “but I got over it. Maybe you should go talk to somebody about them…

Ally felt her teeth grind together. “I don’t want to talk about it with anyone, okay? I don’t!” Her voice rose to a shout, and Mary flinched.

“I’m sorry,” said Mary. “I’m just worried about you.”

Ally sighed. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It’s just…the dreams scare me, you know?”

“I understand,” said Mary.

Ally shook her head. “No, you don’t, not really. It’s like…it’s like they’re memories from somebody else’s life. Bad memories. Sometimes…I think some of it is stuff I’ve forgotten from when I was a little kid. Before I got adopted. And sometimes I’m flying over the city. It’s like having visions.”

“Maybe you’re psychic,” said Mary. “Like Bill always said, right?” 

“I don’t know,” said Ally. “I really don’t.”

“Maybe you need a boyfriend,” said Mary.

Ally gave her an incredulous stare. “What?” 

“A boyfriend,” said Mary, grinning. 

“I can’t believe you, of all people, are telling me to get a boyfriend,” said Ally. “I’d have thought you would have sworn off men forever.”

“Well, you know,” said Mary. “But not all men are like Nathan, thank God.” 

“I’d hope so, anyway,” said Ally.

Mary swirled her soda with her straw. “I think a lot of men are like Nathan. But there are good men out there.” She smiled. “Maybe that’s what you need. A good man.”

Ally rolled her eyes. “God. I can’t understand why people think that way. Next thing I know you’ll be telling me to get married and have two or three kids.”

“Maybe you need to get out more,” said Mary. “I mean, what do you spend all your time doing? Homework, work, homework, work. That’s got to get boring after a while. Go out and have some fun.”

Ally grinned. “Isn’t that what we’re doing right now?” 

“Yes, but do it more often,” said Mary. She waved her hand at the crowded tables. “Here’s a challenge for you.”

“Oh, exciting.”

“Go up to any guy, any guy at all, and hit up a conversation,” said Mary. 

Ally frowned. “Why?” 

“Something new, something different,” said Mary. “Who knows? You might even meet someone you like.”

Ally rolled her eyes. “That’s the worst idea I’ve heard all night. You remember what high school boys were like? College boys are just like that, except they drink more beer.” 

“Oh, come on,” said Mary. “It’s not like you have to give him your phone number or even your name. Just talk to him.” She pointed. “How about that guy? The one in the blue shirt.”

“No,” said Ally. “He’s with three other girls.”

“Okay, then,” said Mary. She gestured at a lone student sitting in a booth, reading a book. “How about him?”

“No,” said Ally. “He’s probably doing homework and doesn’t want to be interrupted.”

Mary snickered. “I never thought you would be timid. How about…” She frowned. “No, not him. He looks a little old.” 

“Who?” Ally frowned.

Mary waved her fingers. “That guy. The one who just came in.”

Ally peered into the crowd. A man in his early thirties strode with a slow step to the counter. He had close-cropped dark hair and wore a new suit. 

“What a weird-looking cane,” said Mary.

“I’ll say,” said Ally. The cane looked like a medieval sword in its scabbard, the wood and metal gleaming and polished. An odd itch tugged at the back of Ally’s mind. Both the cane and its owner looked familiar, though Ally did not recognize either. 

“Ally?” Mary leaned forward. “You okay? You’ve got that weird look again.”

“I do not get weird looks,” said Ally. Her eyes remained fixed on the man. 

He stopped, as if he felt her gaze, and looked in her direction. His face was lean, almost gaunt, and dark eyes glittered in deep sockets. He looked weary and weathered, yet an intense light showed in his eyes. Ally met his stare without blinking. He watched her for a moment, then turned away. 

“God,” said Mary. “That was weird.”

“I’ll say,” said Ally. Odd memories flashed across her mind. She remembered an old man with a child in a harness across his back. He carried two canes…

No, not canes.

Swords that burned. 

“I hope you’re not thinking about talking to him,” said Mary. “He’s kind of handsome, yeah, but he looks nuts.” 

“That cane,” said Ally.

“What about it?” 

Ally stood. “I’ve seen it before. I don’t know where. And it’s not really a cane at all.” 

“What is it?”

“A sword.” 

Mary’s eyes got wide. “You mean that’s really a sword? Jesus, Ally, then that guy is nuts. Don’t go talk to him.”

“I have to,” said Ally, starting across the room. 

“Oh, God.” Mary climbed to her feet and followed her. 

Ally strode to the counter. The man stood before the register, leaning on his false cane. He turned at her approach, his face expressionless and calm.

“Hi,” said Ally. 

“Greetings,” said the man. He had an odd accent. “What do you wish of me?”

“Your cane,” said Ally. 

The man almost smiled. “It is not for sale.”

“I don’t care,” said Ally. “I know it’s not a cane. It’s a sword.” The man’s eyes did not leave her face. “And I want to see it.” 

“Sir?” The cashier held a tray out to him. “Sir, your food’s ready.” 

The man considered her, his eyes and face unreadable. 

“Sir?” said the cashier, annoyance filtering into his tone. 

“Very well.” The man tucked his cane under his arm and took the tray. “Come with me.” 

Mary hurried to her side. “Where are we going?” 

Ally followed the man through the crowd, her eyes fixed on the sword cane. “I’m going to see his sword.” 

Mary rolled her eyes. “Oh, God, Ally. Don’t tell me you actually walked up to him and asked to see his sword. That’s an opening if I’ve ever heard one.”

The man settled in a booth, and Ally sat across from him. Mary squirmed in besides her. The man picked up an apple from his tray and took a bite. “And why are you so adamant about seeing my sword?”

Ally had never seen the weapon before in her life, but it seemed so familiar. A dozen contradictory thoughts warred in her mind. “I…I don’t know. I just have to.”

The man took another bite and swallowed. “As you wish, then.” He tucked the scabbard between his knees, drew the sword, and laid it flat on the table between them. 

“My God,” muttered Mary. 

Ally’s eyes wandered over the leather-wrapped hilt and the crosspiece. A deep crimson stain marked the blade. “That’s blood.” 

“Oh my God,” said Mary. 

“Aye,” said the man. A glaze seemed to come over his eyes. “The blood of a dear friend.”

Ally swallowed. “So you’ve…killed people with this?”

“More than I care to remember.” 

Ally’s fingers curled around the hilt. “It feels so warm.” A faint heat seeped through the metal, and she lifted the weapon. “And so light.” Her father was an ancient historian and her mother taught martial arts. She had handled swords before. But she had never held such a well-balanced blade. 

A flicker of surprise went through the man’s face. “You can lift that?” 

“Yeah.” Ally set the sword down. “It’s not that heavy.” 

The man leaned forward, his dark eyes keen with curiosity. “Who are you?” 

“Don’t answer him, Ally,” said Mary. “He’s carrying around a bloody sword. This guy’s crazy.” 

The man’s lips quirked in a smile. “Quite right. But you’ve just told me her name. Ally.”

Mary groaned. “I am such an idiot.” 

“It’s okay,” said Ally. Something about this man was so familiar to Ally. She could not place the memory, but she did not think he would harm them. “Who are you, then?”

“I am Arran Belphon.” 

“Where are you from?” said Mary, eyes narrowed. “You’ve got a funny accent.”

Arran unwrapped his sandwich and took a bite. “A far country. You would not know it.” 

“Try me,” said Ally.

Arran set down his sandwich. “Very well. Carlisan, greatest of the High Kingdoms.”

Mary hesitated. “Isn’t that in the UK?”

“Carlisan,” whispered Ally. A memory hovered at her fingertips, just out of reach. “Carlisan. I’ve heard that before, haven’t I? I must have. But I’ve never heard of it.” 

Arran watched her. “You know of it?”

“I…I don’t know.” Ally shrugged. “I don’t know.” 

Arran leaned closer. “What of the other High Kingdoms? Rindl. Narramore. Antarese. Amnisos. Do you remember their names?”

Every one of the names tugged something deep within Ally’s mind, a pang of sorrow and regret and pain. “I don’t know.” She rubbed the heels of her hands against her forehead. “There’s something…why I can’t I remember?”

“Stop it,” said Mary, glaring at Arran. “Do you know her?”