by Ilana Waters
“A Chalice Master,” she repeated. “It’s what they call the person who actually claims the Chalice for their house. That’s whoever finds it first—not necessarily the captain. Anyway, I don’t think that’s ever happened by accident before. Specs is responsible for hiding the Chalice. There’s no way he’d put it somewhere one might just chance on it. For most of the school year, the previous year’s champions get to have the Chalice displayed over their house’s entrance. This year, it’s House of Water.” Miles pumped his fist in the air.
I put my hand to my head. “Wait. I thought the whole point of the game was to find the Sylvan Chalice. Where’s the fun if everyone already knows where it is?”
Again, Pen shook her head. “Locating the Chalice is only during the final round. And anywhere public is fair game during the last phase of Tournament. Obviously, they remove anything important—like school supplies—before the game. Only the private quarters of students and staff are forbidden. And thank the gods,” she muttered. “I don’t think even the Chalice is worth sifting through Professor Burgess’s dirty underwear.”
“Erm, I don’t think I want to hear those last four words in the same sentence ever again,” Miles said. “In fact, they should have restraining orders so they never come within fifty feet of each other.”
“Agreed,” said Pen. “Anyway, House of Water will display the Chalice until it’s time to hide it for the next tournament. For the play-offs, the houses compete just to get into the final round. The play-offs’ objective is to knock your opponent off their feet. Literally.”
“Knock your opponent off their feet?” I echoed. “Sounds a bit simplistic.”
“We’re witches, mate.” Miles’s eyes flickered toward me. “I mean, most of us. Magical, at least. Making us fall is harder than it looks. And there are other rules. You can get temporarily thrown around—”
“Thrown around?”
“Flying is allowed, for example. But if you don’t land on your feet, or you fall and get back up, you’re out, and the other team scores. Team with the most players left standing when time is called is the winner. And naturally, you can’t hover in the air indefinitely, because that’s a travel. And then there’s . . .”
Miles went on about the rules of Tournament while staff and prefects continued setting up equipment and spells. Most of the latter involved laying down rubber mats, so students would have a soft place to fall, and putting up magical barriers, so that any spells used wouldn’t spill over onto the moors and forest. We still had a few minutes before tryouts began in earnest; I thought it was time for a little maintenance. I took out supplies from my bag.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Victor, Mason, and Dirk huddled together. They were muttering to themselves and looking around. I didn’t know if they’d seen me yet, or what they might do if they did, but I got that same dark feeling I always did when they were around. As if whatever they were plotting was bound to cause someone pain. In fact, earlier that day, I heard Victor “accidentally” poured an acid spell from potions into an earth witch’s rucksack. Rumor had it she’d been sneaking notes to her fire witch friend before class. Then, during lunch, Mason and Dirk knocked over an entire tray of cheese sandwiches, blaming it on an air witch whose fire cousin was helping him study for divination class.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the little mage having himself a beauty routine.” Our heads snapped up to see Dirk staring down with his massive caveman brow, with Victor and Mason next to him. Damn. I forgot how fast fire witches can move. I could’ve sworn that lot was standing yards away only moments ago. Suyin inhaled sharply. Pen stopped stretching, and I saw Imogen’s whole body tense. Miles kept his eye on Victor, Mason, and Dirk while shifting closer to Pen. “Is that . . .” Dirk covered his mouth, shoulders shaking with laughter. “Are you putting on nail polish?”
I glanced at Dirk and continued spreading the brush out in long, lazy strokes. “What does it look like I’m doing?” I examined my work. The almost-black color really suited.
“It looks like you’re putting on nail polish.” Dirk guffawed.
I blew on my nails to dry them, adding extra air magic to speed things up. “Good to see your vision is 20/20,” I said. “Next, we’ll work on your IQ.”
“Joshua,” Pen said warily.
What are you doing, mate? Miles hissed to me in his mind.
The smiled faded from Dirk’s face, and he stepped forward. But Victor put one hand on his shoulder, holding him back. “Let it go, Dirk. I mean, what can you expect from blokes who go around kissing other blokes? Besides,” he said ominously, “he’ll learn to respect his betters soon enough. In fact,” he grabbed a passing witch by the back of the neck and pulled her in, “Zaira here can tell you all about it.”
It was the student I recognized from that day at lunch—the Year Nine girl who’d asked all the questions about vampirism and my father. Her face and hands were bruised and scratched, parts of her uniform torn.
“Isn’t that right, Zaira?” The girl winced as Victor shook her by the neck. Suyin and Imogen looked at each other nervously, while Miles, Pen, and I stood up. The bottle of black nail polish fell over, dark liquid oozing onto the bleacher seat.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, Victor.” She cringed and tried to squirm away from him, but Victor held her neck in a viselike grip.
“What happened to you?” Pen asked Zaira.
Zaira glanced at Victor, but only for a fraction of a second. “I . . . I fell.”
“Into what—a pit full of hyenas?” My question was for Zaira, my glare for Victor. But he just continued looking at us with the same infuriatingly smug smile.
“Little Miss Snoop here was trying to steal a salamander from House of Fire grounds.” Victor’s lip curled at Zaira as if she were the lizard-like creature, crawling through the dirt.
“I only wanted to look at it,” Zaira started to say. Then, her shoulders shot up as she winced, and I saw sparks of painful magic flowing from Victor’s fingers through her skin.
“Water witches don’t belong on House of Fire property, period,” he said. “Much less take things that belong to us. And that’s why accidents happen at Equin, because witches don’t know their place.” Victor looked daggers at Zaira while Mason and Dirk sniggered behind him. I felt my face go hot from anger, magic gathering in my hands. I could feel water and fire magic emanating from Miles and Pen, respectively.
“That’s right,” said Mason.
“As long as everyone knows where they belong, there’ll be no problems,” Dirk added. Victor finally let Zaira go, pushing her away—hard. She stumbled forward, and after a fearful glance at Victor, skittered away. One hand was rubbing the back of her neck, and her face was crumpled, like she was trying not to cry.
“After all,” Victor said with a triumphant smile, “ ‘Equinox Academy exists to shape the next generation of rainmakers.’ ” I recognized the quotation from one of the brochures.
“Really?” I gritted my teeth, the magic in my hands flowing up my arms, itching to wrap itself around Victor’s throat. “I thought it was to reinforce an elitist and archaic social structure.”
This time, his smile was cold and hard. He stepped forward and put his face close to mine. Instantly, Miles and Pen were at my side, and Imogen and Suyin stood up as well.
“Enjoy these snide asides while you can, Alderman,” he hissed. “In a few years, we’ll be running things. The chosen, the select. And where will you be? Skulking in the shadows.”
“Mmmm, yes.” I glanced down at my nails. “Where you’ll never see me coming.” I looked back up. “Best keep on my good side, then.”
“Oy, you three! Oy!” Daniel was waving to Victor, Mason, and Dirk from a few yards away. “We could use a few Year Thirteens over here. Give us a hand, would you?”
Victor turned his head toward Daniel, and made a noise that sounded like a growl. He took one last look at me, then turned on his heel and left. M
ason and Dirk gave a few grunts at us, then joined him. After they were gone, it felt like everyone collectively exhaled. Miles and Pen flopped back down onto the bleachers, defensive magic draining from their hands. But mine was still churning inside me, and I stood with my arms folded, watching Victor.
“I’m starting to think that hanging around you is a dangerous proposition, mate.” Miles blew a puff of air out of his cheeks.
“It wasn’t Joshua’s fault, Miles.” Pen tilted her head at him.
“Yeah,” Imogen said. “You saw what Victor and those others did to Zaira.”
Suyin nodded and bit her nail. “I mean, I’m a fire witch too, but I don’t understand Victor’s nastiness, or his obsession with fire magic. One of the biggest tenets of witchcraft—of Equinox itself—is balance, right? Blind adherence to a particular element is counterproductive. I mean, in the real world, it can even be fatal.” The others murmured their assent.
“All this just confirms my theory that Victor is a world-class putz,” I said, still staring after him. “I don’t get it. Specs seems to know everything that goes on at this school.” I turned to the others. “Why isn’t he doing more to stop Victor and the others from bullying students?”
“Because he can’t prove anything.” Miles put out his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Victor would deny it, and with none of the students brave enough to say what actually happened, what is Specs supposed to do? If it makes you feel better, I’m sure he’s just as frustrated about it as you are.”
“I highly doubt that,” I muttered. I watched Victor help Daniel, Oliver, and a few others put up the last of the magical barriers. Their blue-silver outlines shimmered in the bright autumn sun, as high as football goalposts. Then, Greggers blew the silver whistle she wore around her neck, calling everyone over. Tryouts had begun.
“Gods, I’m so nervous,” Suyin breathed.
“You’ll be fine.” Pen patted her shoulder as we all walked to the far end of the field.
“Here goes nothing,” Miles said.
“All right, listen up, everyone,” Mrs. Greggers was saying. “You’ll be pared off into small groups for the first portion. A few of the prefects are in class right now and can’t help with tryouts, so we’re putting some Year Thirteens in charge of their groups. Hedges, Wright—take that lot there and there,” she pointed, handing them each a small leather sack, “and do the timed runs like I showed you.” A heavyset boy I assumed was Hedges nodded and waved his group toward a track on one side of the field. Oliver and Daniel led their groups away, which left Victor in charge of me, Miles, Pen, Imogen, Suyin, and a few others, including Zaira. Mason and Dirk were still with him, and all of them smiled evilly.
“Right then, you little worms,” Victor laughed once he was out of Greggers’s earshot. “You start at the end of the bleachers and run to the barrier.” He pointed at the magical outline glinting in the distance. “And you pretty much stop when I tell you.” He reached into the leather sack Greggers had given him, and threw what looked like golden dust into the air. Instantly, a transparent hourglass formed over each of our shoulders, ready to keep time.
“Ah,” Miles put a tentative finger in the air, “aren’t we supposed to run from the bleachers to the barrier and back once? That’s how we did it last year.” Imogen and Suyin looked at him in alarm, and Pen gave him an invisible kick in the shin.
“Well, I wasn’t in charge last year.” Victor stood over Miles, who swallowed hard. “So get.” He jutted his chin toward the bleachers, and we shuffled off reluctantly. Victor leaned back on the highest row of seats, fingers laced behind his head, with Mason and Dirk on either side.
“Aren’t Tweedledum and Tweedledee going to try out?” I called. Mason and Dirk glared at me murderously. But all Victor said was, “I’ll be personally vouching for their time. You just worry about yourself.” And that’s not all you should be worried about. Victor’s last thought was only for me. Angry magic billowed inside me again, but I pushed it down, willing it into my legs to help me run.
Witches and mages have pretty good stamina—more than most human beings. But running nonstop is bound to get to one after a while, even if you are magical. After about fifteen minutes, some of us were getting worn out. Exertion like this was no problem for me; I’d had a lot worse from training with my father. But a few of the younger students were gasping, pain in their faces. We’d all run our fastest at the beginning. Now, everyone was just trying to keep going. Zaira’s face was so red, she looked like she was about to burst.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the other groups had moved onto different parts of the tryouts, such as flying and telekinetics. But Victor was still perfectly content to let us go back and forth, with no sign of stopping. I realized he had no intention of relieving us. Greggers, the staff, and the prefects were so busy with their own groups, they didn’t even notice.
“Come on, you lazy runts—faster!” Victor shouted, zapping Miles and Zaira in the heels with a bolt of fire magic. Miles yelped and stumbled, catching himself from falling at the last minute, and managing to run on. Zaira wasn’t so lucky. She tried to fly forward to avoid getting zapped, but the magic still caught her shoe. She let out a little shriek, and we saw smoke and smelled burning rubber from her sneaker. Meanwhile, Victor and his thugs were laughing like crazy.
“Okay, then,” gasped Victor, trying to catch his breath, “the fire witches can stop and sit with us. The rest of you lot better run like your lives depend on it!” Fire magic shot out from his fingertips again, inches from the runners’ heels. Bits of dirt and pebbles burst up from the dusty racetrack.
Imogen, Suyin, and a few other fire witches collapsed on the side of the track. But Pen kept running beside Miles, despite the irritated look he was giving her.
This is ridiculous, puffed Pen. Even her thoughts were exhausted. She stopped running and started marching toward the other end of the field. I’m telling Greggers already.
No! Miles hissed and grabbed her arm, pulling her back into a run. You saw what Victor and his brutes did to Zaira. They’ve been staying away from us because of Joshua, but what if this puts them over the edge? I don’t need them going all Salem on our arses.
No, Pen’s right, I said, jerking my head behind us. Look at Zaira. Sure enough, she was limping along behind us, eyes squeezed almost shut, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. I was sure her foot had been hurt when Victor’s magic burned through her shoe. And although witches heal quickly from injury, that’s not the case when one is forced to keep re-injuring oneself. Like Zaira was doing now by trying to run on that foot.
Enough is enough, I said. I jogged a few yards ahead and held both hands up. “Everyone, stay where you are,” I boomed. The runners stopped. Many of them put their hands on their knees, taking huge gulps of air. The hourglasses hovering above them vanished. “I think we’ve all had enough of this crap. Especially you,” I said to Zaira. She collapsed where she stopped, and Pen, Imogen, and Suyin rushed over to her.
“What the hell, Alderman?” Victor barked as he, Mason, and Dirk flew down from the bleachers. “I didn’t call time yet.”
“Well, I did,” I said. “This ends now, Victor. You won, okay? Everyone is in agony.” Except me, which I’m sure is killing you.
Magic crackled over Victor’s arms, and even the most fatigued runners took several steps back. “That’s not my problem, half-breed. Besides, you’re an army brat, sort of. What is it they say? ‘Pain is good. Extreme pain is extremely good.’ ”
“Really?” I felt my own magic buzzing and snapping inside of me. I’d never really let it go, not even after all that running. “I think there’s a whole body of doctors who’d disagree with you on that. All of them, in fact. Pain is the body’s signal that something is wrong. It means stop what you’re doing. Or didn’t they teach you that at the Sadist Academy for PE Instructors?”
Victor gnashed his teeth and thrust both palms in front of him. His magi
c hit me hard, lifting me off the ground and hurling me into one of the blue-silver barriers. It knocked the wind out of my lungs. I lay on my back, facing Victor, who was furiously striding toward me.
Clomp, clomp. I could feel the vibration of his heavy footsteps every time they struck the track. He reached down to grab me by the collar. But I clamped onto his arms and flung him over my head. Victor crashed through the barrier with an angry roar, and landed with a groan in the grass on the other side.
The barrier cracked and sizzled as it broke, sending a burst of blue-silver light across the field. Students in the other groups shouted and pointed at it. Soon, they, the prefects, and Greggers and her staff came running over. Miles, Pen, and the rest of my group were almost behind the barrier when I grabbed Victor by the back of the neck, just like he’d done to Zaira. Leaning over him, I pushed one knee between his shoulder blades, holding his face down as he twisted in the dirt.
“How do you like it, eh?” I snarled. “The pain, is it good? I said, is it good?”
Victor made an animal sound in the back of his throat, and I felt a jolt of fire magic shoot through my hand and knee. I screamed and fell back, but jumped up immediately to see Victor’s fist coming at my face. But it pulled back just before it landed. I saw Mason and Dirk on either side of Victor as he tried to wrench himself free of them.
“Let me go!” he bellowed. “That worthless freak—”
“Greggers, mate!” Mason whispered urgently. He struggled to hold onto one of Victor’s shoulders, while Dirk took the other. I didn’t even realize my own fist was clenched and drawn back until I felt Miles and Pen on either side of me.
Trying to keep me from clobbering Victor as well, no doubt.
“What the hell is going on here?” Greggers shouted as she and the others burst past the barrier.
“Nothing,” Miles yelled back. Then, he lowered his voice. “I mean, the barrier got broken. By accident. Isn’t that right, Josh?” My shoulders heaved up and down as I glowered at Victor.