* * * * *
Varan's prediction held true. Meisha slept all through the next day and night, rising only to take small meals. Gradually, her energy returned and with it the brush of power, just out of her reach. She left it alone, as Varan had instructed, but she was eager, for the first time, to tell her teacher what she felt.
When she knocked on his door the third day, there came no answer, nor was there on the fourth or fifth. Meisha returned every night, and during the day, when their water supply ran low, she collected bucketfuls from the newly vacant pool.
After a tenday, they began to worry, not just for Varan's safety, but for their own continued survival. None of them knew how to get to the surface without Varan's magic, and they were quickly running out of food.
Meisha and Prieces ventured out into the Delve seeking fresh meat, while Shaera and the rest returned to the training tunnels to search for the wizard and the secret cavern entrance.
When Meisha returned to her chamber, empty-handed and hungry, she saw the green light coming from Varan's workroom.
Running to the door, she felt the same burst of electrical heat, but this time she ignored it and tried to force the door. The spell lock sizzled along her fingers, hot but not burning. The door was sealed tight.
"Master!" she shouted, pounding on the door. "Are you in there?"
She heard glass breaking and what sounded like Varan's workbench being dragged across the floor. The wizard's voice rang out above the din.
"I'm all right, firebird," he called. "Go back to your room."
"Where have you been?" she persisted, banging harder on the door. "We've been searching the tunnels for you. The food is almost gone."
"I apologize for that, little one, and I've corrected the oversight. You'll find the larder filled, and the next time I leave, you will not be left without provisions."
"The next time?" Meisha cried. "We thought you dead; now you're leaving again? Varan, open the door!"
"Calm yourself," Varan said soothingly. "We will continue your lessons as I promised. I will not be leaving for some time. The objects I brought back will occupy all of my attention for a while."
"What are they?" Meisha asked. "What did you find?"
"Amazing things," Varan said excitedly. His voice drifted away from the door, and she heard more objects being moved around the room.
"Varan," she called. "Varan!"
Light flared through the door, blinding her. When her vision cleared, Meisha heard nothing more from the room. She sensed, without knowing how, that Varan had gone.
She slumped to the floor, wondering what it all meant. Her stomach growled loudly, and Meisha recalled their most pressing need. She headed to the larder, hoping that Varan had indeed stocked it well.
Perhaps, when Varan had sorted out whatever it was he'd found in the caverns, he would show her where he'd been.
CHAPTER TEN
The Howling Delve
11 Uktar, the Year of the Serpent (1359 DR)
"She's run off!" Jonal cried. Meisha opened her eyes, her meditation ruined. Annoyed, she turned to glare at the water apprentice. "What?"
"Shaera," Jonal said. "She's gone beyond the wards, seeking the master's tunnels. She wants to know where he goes."
"Don't we all," Meisha muttered. She began pulling on her boots. "Does Varan know?"
Jonal shook his head. "He hasn't come out—"
"Of the workroom," Meisha finished disgustedly. In the three years since finding the secret tunnels, Varan had squirreled away an unknown number of treasures. He barely left his chambers anymore, for toying with them. "Perhaps it's time to remind him of his responsibilities . . . again."
"But you can't," Jonal sputtered. "If he's in the middle of an experiment, you could be killed."
"We're out of food again," Meisha snapped. "The north wards failed last night, letting in two deep bats and gods know what else we haven't seen. All the while Varan's been tucked away in his nest. It's time someone shook the branches."
The workroom was lit and locked again, but Meisha was three years older, and Varan had grown careless with his simple magics.
She grabbed the door latch and summoned fire to her hand. Wood disintegrated into black charring, and she dropped the searing latch to the ground.
Meisha burst into Varan's chamber, and immediately saw the glowing circle centered on the wizard's worktable.
Varan stood with his back to her, his attention on an object hovering above the table.
"I'll ask you to repair that door at your earliest convenience, Meisha," he said testily. He moved his hands over the object: a glove that appeared to be made of liquid metal, a shimmering waterfall of steel. "I've grown accustomed to your late night poundings on my door; but what brings you so suddenly and so violently into my room? Risking your own life in the process, I might add."
"Shaera's gone missing," Meisha said. "Jonal says she went beyond the wards."
"Gone exploring, I expect." Varan still hadn't turned around. His shoulders drooped as if he carried sacks of stone, but he maintained the swirling pattern of magic around the glove. "Does Jonal know where?"
"The Climb," Meisha said uncertainly. "I didn't know what he meant."
"You wouldn't," said Varan, "because I have not gotten around to showing the passage to you or warning you that to attempt it is beyond stupidity. Shaera, if she turns up injured, will have taken care of both tasks quite capably."
Meisha, her jaw clenched, stared hatefully at the wizard's back. She fought the temptation to shove him into the bright sphere of his Art. Anything to get his attention for one breath, even if it turned out to be her last on Toril.
"Don't you care?" she spat. "If nothing else, she is air. Your training will have gone to waste if she dies!"
Varan made a gesture, and the floating miasma froze in place. Slowly, the orange glow of torchlight replaced the magical light in the room. He turned to face her.
Meisha flinched involuntarily at the haggardness of his face. Gray hairs shed from his beard to litter the front of his robes. Meisha did not know if stress or the force of his Art had caused them to fall out. The magic seemed to be taking him a piece at a time.
May any watching gods smite me if I come to this, Meisha thought. She found herself unable to feel a shred of pity for her master. She was too angry.
For his part, Varan did not seem to notice her fury. "Did you come here to ask for my help, or my permission to go after Shaera?" he asked. He leaned against the table for support. "In either event, I'm surprised at your outburst. You've never shown any inclination of friendship to Shaera or the other apprentices. In fact, you consider yourself superior to all of them."
"Because I am."
"I won't dispute you. But I do warn you: be cautious where you aim your righteous anger, little firebird."
"I don't have time for this," Meisha snarled. "If you won't help me, tell me what the Climb is."