A Crucible of Souls (Book One of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) by Mitchell Hogan

efficient movements, he washed his face and hands using a rough cloth and a bowl of tepid water. The flushes had passed and the medicine had calmed him nicely. He dried off with a clean towel and dressed. The shirt was tighter than when he had tried it on a few months ago. He must be having a late growth spurt. If this kept on, soon most of his clothes wouldn’t fit.
    A bell tolled outside, signaling the start of the evening hours. It was time to leave for the gathering, which was to be held in the citadel by the sea outside the monastery.
     
    Caldan took the stairs two at a time and paused at the top to look around at a square. To his right the beach started, and to his left there was a paved road along the water’s edge.
    An obsidian statue of Lady Misterin, one of the island’s first settlers stood in a fountain at the center of the square. Stylishly garbed in seaweed, in one hand she held a conch shell from which spouted fresh water piped from an underground spring.
    Sidling up to the statue, Caldan touched the water running over Lady Misterin’s bare feet for luck, splashed some across his face and continued on down the paved road.
    A short time later he paused at the top of the flight of stone steps that led down into the hall where the student’s social gatherings were held. Brought up in families of wealth, they were no strangers to parties and late nights of revelry, though the monks took a dim view of such things. Too privileged to realize the opportunity they were squandering, he told himself. Most of them would learn far less than they should. He wondered why the monastery let them get away with it. Probably because the students brought in enough ducats for the monks to survive.
    Over the years an uneasy truce had evolved, and the students were allowed to gather and let off steam, as long as they did not allow anything to get out of hand. The monks permitted the students to gather in rooms in the citadel, away from the monastery and close to where guards could keep an eye on them.
    Located in one wing of the citadel, the hall had arched openings leading onto a balcony, which overlooked a garden. Tapestries and painted wall hangings covered two walls, many depicting scenes from history that had made past governors of the Island of Eremite famous: the finding of the ancients’ caverns, the staying of the volcanic eruption, and a game of Dominion between masters in progress. Oil lanterns suspended from the ceiling provided a warm yellow glow, and strings of seasonal flowers were pinned to the walls, giving the atmosphere a faint, sweet fragrance. Aligned with the center of each wall were tables laden with food and refreshments, and a stage had been set up in a corner, where a quartet of musicians played a popular tune while their female singer sat quietly to the side until she was required to perform later. The musicians were a luxury and must have been hired by one of the wealthier students.
    Not recognizing anyone he knew well — but seeing plenty of people he didn’t want to run into — Caldan stepped down the flight of stairs to the bottom, where he helped himself to a glass of fruit punch. He took a hefty swallow, gagged on the sweetness, and returned to the drinks table where he added wine and took another sip. This time it was palatable, if only just.
    A pale face framed by a shock of fair hair appeared in front of him. Yasmin. Dressed up for the party, she wore a low-cut dress made from a sheer material which left little to the imagination. Caldan reddened and looked away. He thought it likely she wouldn’t be able to wear that dress on the mainland under her parents’ supervision.
    “ Caldan, how lovely to see you here tonight. ”
    Her voice was too smooth for him, and he wondered what she was up to. “ A pleasure to see you as well, Yasmin, ” he replied. “ Is Jemma with you? ” He made a show of peering over her head, as if looking for her friend.
    “ Very amusing. But we both know your