The Dark Adept

  A Practical Guide to Forbidden Knowledge, Friendly Betrayals, and Espresso-Induced Panic

  Book 2 of the Dark Apprentice.

  Prologue.

  Lightning ripped from sky to sky, bright jagged forks pursuing one another under a sea of black clouds. Thunder cracked and boomed unceasingly, shaking dust from the walls of the ritual chamber.

  The dust swirled and fell, carried along by exuberant eddies of air that rushed and whirled around the rough stone walls, dropping further and further until finally the air released its hold, dropping the dust into the blood pooling on the floor.

  "That's the third one this month." A dark robed figure remarked, eyes fixed on the gruesome mess spread across the floor.

  "What?"

  "Oh for - TAKE YOUR HOOD OFF!" The figure yelled at the room’s only other living occupant, a similarly robed figure.

  "What? I can't hear you over this blasted thunder!" The second figure replied loudly. The figure pulled the hood of their cloak back to reveal an older man, balding and with a long white beard that did nothing to disguise his oversized jowls and double chin. "Take your hood off! That might help!"

  The first figure cursed, then pulled a wand from their robe. They flicked the end contemptuously, and a shimmering translucent dome appeared over them. The sound of the thunder vanished, leaving an unsettling quiet.

  The first figure removed their hood. Thick waves of curly blonde hair tumbled down the front of the dark brown robe, and the woman pushed the unruly tresses back to clear her face. One particularly disobedient strand refused to stay back, falling forward to hang in a loop in front of her emerald eyes. The young woman growled in frustration and pushed the hair back twice more before it finally stayed in place. "As I was saying," she said harshly. "This is the third one this month." She indicated the remains on the floor.

  In the center of the chamber lay a large white chalk diagram, filled with arcane symbols. It had obviously been a circle at one point, but now most of it was hidden below a half-congealed layer of blood. The pulpy mess of flesh that was the source of the blood was only recognizable as human because of the grinning skull that rested atop the pile. "Third what?" The man asked.

  The young woman rolled her eyes. "Third body. We've found two more just like this."

  The old man's eyes grew wide. "Th-three?" He stammered. "But...who would do something like this? This is..." He trailed off, a haunted expression on his face. "I thought it was maybe a spell gone horribly wrong. You're saying someone did this to him?"

  "That seems to be the case."

  A range of emotions flickered across the man's face, strobing through fear, despair, and anger before settling on determination. "What is the council doing about it?" He demanded.

  The young woman shrugged. "Nothing."

  "Nothing?" Anger returned to the old man's face. "Someone is running around murdering wizards, and the council is doing nothing?"

  The young woman smiled. "What exactly was Wizard Goranda researching here?" She indicated the corpse.

  "Oh, I'm...not quite sure." The old man said, expression jumping two steps backwards to settle on fear.

  The woman rolled her eyes. "Master Horton. Do you really believe the council to be ignorant of the research being performed at this monastery?"

  Horton went white. "Of course not, mistress Naiela - I mean, of course they - we don't-"

  "We." Naiela cut the man off. "Know exactly what goes on here. Goranda was studying demonology."

  Horton somehow paled even further. Naiela idly wondered if the man would turn translucent if she scared him more. That could be interesting. "Mistress, please..."

  "And do you know why we allow this monastery to continue existing?"

  Horton shook his head, jowls nearly vibrating from the motion.

  "Because the results are useful. If we wish to fight the darkness, we must understand it." Horton relaxed slightly. "But." He tensed again. Naiela waited just a moment, savouring the man's fear. "Such research is not sanctioned, and is therefore illegal. Making men like this -" she pointed at the corpse "-dark wizards. And, as you know, the lives of all dark wizards are forfeit."

  She watched the older man's face, hoping to see him pale even further, but it appeared he had hit the upper limit of what blood could be drained. Pity. "While the council turns a blind eye to your... activities, we feel no compulsion to protect you." She smiled. "Whoever perpetrated this act did the council a favor, really. We would have come for him eventually." Once his research had reached the end of its usefulness. She didn't bother adding that last part.

  "But mistress! We're only a small research monastery. And other than a few of our more eccentric members all of our research is well within council guidelines!" Horton protested.

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  "Yet you allow these members to continue their unauthorized research." Her tone grew harsh. "This monastery was founded nearly seven hundred years ago by Pratorin the ever-wise. As a facility dedicated to the improvement of light magic. And you allow research into demonic possession? You violate the rules of the council?" Her temper began to get away from her. "He was member of the High Council! How dare you profane his name and expect us to protect you!" She yelled.

  Horton took an involuntary step backwards. "But... But mistress, Pratorin himself studied demons. He was the world's foremost expert on them."

  "That is a lie." Naiela's hot anger suddenly became like ice. "It is against the council laws. It has always been against council laws. If I ever hear a hint of that vile rumour from you again I will personally nail your tongue to the front door of this monastery. If I am feeling especially generous that day, I might cut it out first."

  Hortons mouth shut so fast his teeth clacked audibly. The smile returned to Naiela's face. "Now that the situation has been made clear, I would like to retire for the evening. It is late and I would prefer to leave early."

  Horton frowned. "Leave? Already? But you just got here."

  "And?"

  "And...well I thought you would be investigating this. I mean, I understand now the council isn't going to protect us, and of course we deserve that, but don't you want to find out who did this?" Horton said quickly.

  "I know who did it." Naiela fixed him with firm look, daring him to question her.

  "I...yes. Yes. Of course the council knows. All wise the council is. Let's get you set up. I have some servants quarters...my room. I mean, my room. You can have my bed and I'll sleep in the servants quarters." Horton was wringing his hands now.

  "Nonsense. You are the headmaster of this monastery. I wouldn't dream of taking your room. The servants quarters will be fine." Naiela said sweetly. She smiled in delight as confusion colored Horton's face. She so enjoyed putting people off balance like this. That it made what came later easier was just a bonus.

  Horton opened and closed his mouth several times, obviously at a loss for words. He regained his composure faster than Naiela expected. Interesting. He was more stable than he appeared. Not that that would be an issue, of course. "Yes mistress Naiela. I will have the quarters set up for you right away. Shall I send someone to collect your gear?" He said with a bow.

  "Not necessary." Naiela said with a dismissive wave. "I will go and retrieve my belongings. Have someone meet me there to show me to my rooms."

  Horton bowed deeply. "Yes, mistress." He replaced his hood and strode towards the door, but came up short just before running into the barrier she'd put up. She dismissed the barrier with a wave of her wand, and the older man left the room, the sound of cracking thunder chasing him down the hall.

  Naiela made he was down to the stables. Fortunately, they were attached to the building so she didn't have to go out into the rain that was gleefully pounding into the dirt. Her jet black horse, Nightfang, whinnied quietly at her approach. The stallion was nearly taller than her at the saddle, making mounting him a chore. But he was fast, and loyal, and that was worth it to Naiela. "Not right now." She admonished the horse. "I'm busy." The horse snorted reproachfuly at her, but she ignored him, instead unfastening the heavy saddle and lifting it off with a spell. She disconnected the saddlebag from the saddle and slung it over he shoulder. Nightfang stared at her as she prepared to leave, longing in his large brown eyes. "Oh, fine. You're spoiled rotten, you know that?" She admonished the horse, pulling an apple from her saddlebag and handing it to the animal. It took it from her hand gently before crunching it to pieces. "Glutton." She said with a smile.

  Another brown robed figure holding two oil lamps met her as she re-entered the monastery, bowing silently and turning to lead her to her rooms. The room was only a short walk from the stables, the silent monk opening the door for her when they arrived. He bowed as she went in, handing her one of the lamps before swiftly departing down the dim hallway.

  The room was plain and small, only enough room to stand between the small dresser and narrow cot. She'd had worse, of course. Besides, it wasn't like she'd be sleeping here. She placed the lamp on the dresser then dropped the saddlebags on the bed. She knelt beside the bed and began pulling out her gear. First she changed out of the drab brown robe that was a requirement for entry, replacing it with black silk shirt and pants. Leather armour was next, dyed the same black with enchantments carved into it in dark grey. The enchantments were there to add protection and dampen sounds so she could better sneak around without detection.

  Her knives were next. Two large ones on her belt, one in each boot, one strapped to each arm, and two short push daggers in the small of her back, the T shaped handles sticking out just enough to grab easily. Finally she attached a bracer of tiny darts on each forearm. The tips of one set glinted in the flickering lamplight. The glossy poison coating those ones would drop a man in seconds.

  She pulled her small hand crossbow from the bag, then carefully checked and rechecked the action. It wouldn't do for it to fail on her. Preparations done, she took a seat on the bed and waited. It would be hours yet before she could be sure everyone was asleep, but she was nothing if not patient.

  While she waited, she went over the situation in her mind, carefully examining the details she'd uncovered so far. This had been the sixth wizard killed, though the first three had been months ago. The kills were seemingly random. Seemingly being the key word here. If you looked carefully, you could begin to see the pattern.

  All those killed were dark wizards. It hadn't been apparent at first, since a few weren't listed as dark. But a careful look through their belongings had been enough to find evidence of their devious behaviour.

  The locations and times seemed random as well. Two in quick succession, nothing for over a month, then another, then three more spaced exactly two weeks apart. The clue for that was the storm currently raging overhead. In a world as heavy with magic, a storm was never just a storm. Each lightning strike was bursting with light-attuned magic. Each drop of rain infused with life-attuned. Even the thunder itself pushed waves of force magic along before it.

  Tracking where the storms would be with any kind of accuracy was difficult in the extreme. Every Aetherologist forecaster said tracking more than two days out was flat out impossible. The high council then suggested transferring the Chief Atmospheric Aetherologist to head the soon-to-be created Department of Donkey Manure Studies. A list of potential storm times and locations was drawn up within two days. It was an extensive list, with more times and locations than there could possibly be storms. The list had been divided up, and Naiela had received four times and locations to check.

  Master Horton had been quite shocked when she'd shown up on his doorstep less than an hour after the body had been discovered, though he was pleased to see a council wizard. Naiela had been far, far less pleased. The forecast had been off by over eight hours, causing her to miss the killer. Now, she would have to ride Nightfang hard for two weeks straight to make it to the next location, an out of the way town known as Thalonia.

  She'd leave first thing in the morning. Tonight, there was much to do. The council's forbearance didn't last forever. Justice would always come, for those who practiced the dark arts and for those who turned a blind eye to it.

  Naiela Sade, Apprentice Assasin of the council and wizard of the tertiary order stood up, then loaded her crossbow. Her orders were clear. Tonight, justice would come to this monastery.