Abaddon's Gift

Chapter Five

Theon washed, brushing his teeth, and overall trying to look and smell as if he hadn't been drinking earlier in the night. Dressed and properly presentable, Theon showed himself to Lord Pan, who eyed him critically.

Luk had dropped Naena off and then returned to Theon.

"He'll notice the abscence of the necklace," Luk said.

"They used my necklace to track me down without your permission, haul me in here, and try to permanently band me," Theon snarled back.

"Why are you wearing fire agate?"

Theon made a sound and slipped his hands into his pockets. Silence stretched out as Luk stared back at him, judging his mood. Whatever decision Luk made, nothing more was uttered about the ring.

"Dean's office," Luk said.

"I figured," Theon responded.

They left Theon's study, falling in step together.

The dean's office was on the same floor and near the offices of the Seven. The office was twice the size of any other faculty member and overlooked the front lawns. The offices on the levels above and below the dean's office were reserved for the dean.

His workroom, his library, his private room. The dean didn't sleep at Amos, instead he ported in an out each morning and night.

The dean sat behind his greywood desk, carved with magic and spelled against destruction.

Trathor Mikent was going grey. His most recent renewal was wearing off, wrinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes. Ninety was old for a mage. They met untimely ends earlier in their lives. Their minds slipped and one day...

Poof.

Their magic killed them.

But as the dean of Amos, Trathor had proven his worth twice in the past. Proved it to the point where the Seven had renewed his youth, a spell they rarely performed and one which only the Seven knew the recipe for.

"Luk, what a surprise," Trathor said, struggling to stand as he did so.

"Lord Pan," Luk countered.

Trathor grunted but made no attempt to straighten faster.

"I've things to do, young man," Trathor said. "A school to run, and you've a rogue mage to find. I heard about the storm. Fourth one in two years, Luk, I would expect better of Lord Pan."

"Which is why I sent Graydon," Luk said.

"A boy you trained?" Trathor asked. "Honestly, Luk, if your family could not find the mage, how do you expect your son to find him?"

"Her," Theon said.

He spoke up because he wanted to see the look on his father's face and didn't have the patience to wait for Luk to get to the point. Trathor frowned at Luk for far too long before his eyes flickered to Theon.

"This is a conversation between grown ups, boy, stay out of it," Trathor said.

"Her," Luk repeated. "The reason the previous teams didn't find the rogue mage is because they went looking for a mage. Graydon found a woman who is a mage."

"Born to the wrong body," Trathor said dismissively.

"Body and soul, a woman," Luk said.

"Confused, is all," Trathor said.

"Not confused," Theon said.

"I told you to remain silent, boy," Trathor growled. "I might allow Luk to house you here, but do not take that as meaning you are an accepted member of faculty."