Rising Magic

by Tara Lain

  BeBop held up two fingers. “One good. Well, kind of. The other not so good.”

  Fatima called, “Bad news first.”

  “There’s somebody moving into one of the apartments on our floor.”

  Dij stared. “You’re joking.”

  “Not even. Said just told me. He said the guy’s young and fit. Plus he won’t be here all the time, so he thinks being on the sixth floor will be better security.”

  Fatima wrinkled her nose at BeBop. “What thief’s dumb enough to climb five flights?”

  “Exactly what I told Said.”

  “Oh dear.” Fatima looked shocked. She came around the counter and stood near the couch. “I’ll bet he didn’t like that.”

  Khadija held up a hand and quieted both of them. “We must be very vigilant. Who knows who this neighbor is really?”

  “Sister, you don’t think—”

  Dij gave Fatima a level gaze. “I always think the worst because such behavior protects the community. Do not be lax.”

  “I’m sorry, Sister.” Fatima stared down at her hands for a moment, then shook off the worry. “You better give us some good news, BeBop.”

  BeBop said, “Carla called.”

  That finally got a smile. “How is she? I miss her so much.”

  BeBop nodded. He, Carla, Jazz, Dij, and Fatima had spent the little bit that was left of the summer together after Dash left for a mysterious location. Even though Jazz had been kind of sad, they’d had fun. When BeBop wasn’t teaching advanced math classes at NYU, they’d watched werewolf movies and drunk lots of vanilla colas. “She called to tell me Jazz thinks there’s something wrong with Dash.”

  Dij frowned. “Wrong how?”

  “She said Jazz has a bad feeling.” He shrugged. “You know how Jazz is.”

  She hurried over and sat next to him. “Yes, I know exactly how he is, and if he has a bad feeling, we need to pay attention.”

  He gave her side eye. “If I told you I had a bad feeling, would you pay attention to that?”

  She snorted at him. “Probably not, but you don’t happen to be a werewolf mage, do you?”

  “Not as far as I know.” They all laughed since they’d spent most of the summer helping Jazz figure out that he was more than a werewolf—as if that wasn’t weird enough. BeBop said, “They’re coming to see us after school tomorrow, and I’m going to try to get them in to see my uncle.”

  Fatima gave a little squeal as she hurried back to the kitchen. “They’re coming here?”

  BeBop nodded. “I figured Jazz can bunk with me and we can put Carla on the couch.”

  Fatima carried plates to the tiny table where they ate. “I’ll get a foam mattress, and we can make up a bed on the floor in our room. That will give her more privacy.”

  Dij wasn’t sidetracked. “Why do they want to see your uncle?”

  He pushed his glasses up his nose. “She didn’t say.”

  Dij sighed. “She didn’t have to.”

  Fatima called from the kitchen. “What didn’t she say? Come on, stop being mysterious.”

  That almost made BeBop laugh since the girls’ lives defined mysterious but Dij just nodded. “I’m sure they think that Master Bopherson knows where Dash is.”

  “Oh wow. At superwizard school?”

  “Yes.” She said the next word like it might conjure spirits. “Arcantaria.”

  A noise came from the hall.

  BeBop held up a finger and stood, then moved softly to the door. He pressed his ear against it. Scraping and footsteps sounded outside. BeBop shifted position and pressed his eye to the peephole. At first there was nothing, then the door of the apartment two down from them opened. Out of it came a tall, slim man with black hair, so breathtaking he almost competed with Dash. He left the door to the apartment open and strolled past their apartment. Footsteps clomped on the stairs.

  BeBop turned back to Dij and Fatima. “Seems like our new neighbor’s moving in.”

  Dij said, “Just one man?”

  “So far.”

  “That’s good, I guess.”

  “Just one problem.” BeBop crossed his arms.

  Fatima breathed, “What?”

  “This dude looks totally supernatural.”

  DASH BENT over the beaker on the laboratory bench.

  At the front of the room, Professor Almanjallah said, “The examination of additional textual variants and manuscripts makes us further appreciate Jabir’s technical methodology. You will find the intertextuality of Platonic pseudepigrapha found in Jabir prompts further discussion of Plato’s role in alchemical thought.”

  Dash so wanted to channel Jazz and murmur “Easy for you to say.” That would have gone over like the proverbial lead balloon.

  Dash poured a little mercury into the second beaker in front of him and moved it toward the open flame. This all would have been easier with a lab partner, but apparently no one had wanted him. Kitty and Anastasia, the only mages at the school brave enough to befriend him, weren’t in this class.

  A tap on his shoulder made him jump, and he looked behind him to see the admin he called Ruby Red because of the color of her lipstick. She gave him a disapproving glance. Since he hadn’t done anything but look at her, he gave her back an annoyed expression.

  “You have a visitor, Mr. Mercury.”

  “Visitor?”

  “Yes. Come with me, please.”

  He looked around him. “Now?”

  “Of course.” She raised both dark brows.

  He turned off his burner and gathered his materials. Weird. Arcantaria-graduate visitors came for other mages from time to time, but he’d never seen anyone taken out of a class before. Guests generally showed up in the social hall or occasionally at a meal.

  Ruby Red led him to a small private room that opened off the main receiving hall. She stopped and said sternly, “In here.”

  “Thanks.” On purpose he gave her the full wattage of his smile, which had been known to make humans faint. She didn’t even appear to be fighting an urge to smile back. She just scowled, pushed the door open, then turned and walked away. Dash popped his lips. “Yeah, thanks bunches.”

  He stepped into the room.

  Standing across the small conference table from him was Lysandra. She raised her beautiful fair brows. “My, my, don’t we sound surly.”

  He grinned and crossed around the table to her, knelt and placed his forehead on her proffered hand. “Mistress.” Then he stood and gave her a hug. “Sorry. The woman who brought me here acted weird and refused to so much as hint at a smile.”

  “Some people take Arcantaria very seriously.”

  “Yeah, well. It’s good to see you. What a surprise.”

  “I needed to speak to someone at the school, so it gave me an opportunity to see you.” She sat back in her chair. “How are you doing?”

  He glanced around the room. Something about it made him uneasy. “Want to come up to my room and talk for a bit?”

  She gave a small smile. “I don’t believe women are welcome in the men’s towers unless things have changed quite a bit since I was here.”

  “Oh yeah. I guess that’s true. I haven’t had any chance to test it.”

  “Really? The girls aren’t beating down your doors?”

  He half smiled. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”

  Her look said she was perfectly comfortable where she was, but she stood and followed him out of the reception room.

  He offered his arm and set out toward the dining hall. “How about a cup of tea?”

  “Oh, all right.”

  As they passed through the rotunda, three male mages walked in the other direction. Two of them smiled and nodded. The third said, “Hello, Dash. Good class?”

  Dash opened his mouth but couldn’t answer. The guy who’d smiled and spoken to him was the one who almost knocked him down the stairs and accused him of wanting special treatment.

  Lysandra said, “They seem nice.”

  Dash coul
dn’t stop frowning as they receded. What the hell?

  In the big, bright dining room, he took her to a table set away from the few other diners. Most students were in class. “I’ll get tea for us.” He went to the counter where they kept many kinds of tea and all the fixings. He mixed up two cups of vanilla English Breakfast tea and carried them to the table, placing one in front of Lysandra.

  She said, “Thank you. What’s wrong? You’re scowling.”

  He glanced at her. If he didn’t tell her, who’d listen? “Since I got here, other students have been treating me strangely.”

  “You’re very young to be here, Dash. People may be frightened or even a little resentful. Mages have such huge egos.”

  “Aren’t we supposed to be above that?” He quirked a corner of his mouth.

  “The gating word in that sentence is ‘supposed.’”

  “Seriously, Lys, I’ve made a total of two friends, and that’s because one of them is such a saint she can’t be unkind to anyone. But they both said they were encouraged to dislike me when they got here. People told them I was vain and egotistical and wanted everything my way.”

  Her lips tugged upward.

  He huffed. “Thanks a bunch. But seriously, why the hell would the school allow an active campaign to ostracize me and make me feel unwelcome?”

  She gazed at him levelly for a moment. “I don’t think they would.”

  He leaned in. “Plus, it seems like some of the teachers are trying to separate out the super elite in the school, like the best of the best. A teacher battled me on the obstacle course yesterday. One of the ladies I told you about was approached because she’s good at conjuring.”

  “Why does that seem unusual? All teachers like to know who their top students are.”

  “Isn’t Arcantaria already the best of the best, Lys? Why play the students off against each other?”

  “It’s the nature of academia, Dash. It’s very political. Don’t worry so much.” She patted his hand. “You’re a talented mage and a very handsome man. There’s bound to be some jealousy. Be happy with your lady friends.”

  He nodded and rested his face in his hands. Is that all it is? Am I just being a diva? “I miss Jazz.” The words had popped out before he could rescue them.

  “I know, dear. Such a shame. I’m sure he would have done well. He’s so likable. That would have made it so much easier for you to fit in too.”

  A wash of heat drifted up his neck as he cocked his head at her. “What do you mean? He would have done well where?”

  “Here, of course.” Her eyes widened. “Oh. I’m sorry, I forgot. You haven’t seen Jazz since I offered him the chance to come to Arcantaria.”

  The heat on his neck turned icy. “Wh-when did that happen?”

  “Just after you left. I told him I wouldn’t reveal anything to the MagiCouncil about him unless he wanted me to. But if he chose, I’d propose him as a candidate to Arcantaria.” She glanced at her hands and then back at Dash. “He felt he should stay with his family and friends.”

  “Oh.”

  She gazed at him intently, and he wished he could hide his face again because she must be able to see his shock and sadness. She said, “Realize that he didn’t grow up dreaming of being a great wizard, Dash, like you did. He’s an orphan. The family that took him in is more important to him than anything.”

  He nodded. “Sure. I get that.” Or maybe he wished he got it.

  A moment’s quiet followed, and he honestly couldn’t think of anything to say. His blood rushed in his ears so loud it could have been the ocean.

  She sighed. “Well, I better go and let you get back to your studies. Don’t be hard on yourself, Dash. And try to forgive others. Even for an enlightened person, you’re an awful lot of competition.” She stood, leaned down, and kissed his cheek, then offered her hand.

  He touched his forehead to her extended fingers.

  She said, “Don’t get up. Finish your tea. I’m proud of you.” She walked out of the dining hall, and he tried to force himself to run after her, escort her out, say a proper goodbye.

  He couldn’t move.

  His brain turned the same idea over and over.

  He didn’t want to be with me. He didn’t want to be with me. He didn’t want to be with me.

  Chapter Four

  JAZZ PERCHED on the edge of the couch and sipped coffee heavily laced with cream. Fat was supposed to be good for your brain, and his needed serious work. He’d arrived at two in the morning, gone straight to bed on a futon in BeBop’s room, and pretty much never closed his eyes until he gave up and got up at 5:00 a.m. and watched the sun come up over New York.

  Beside him on the couch, Carla had added sugar to her coffee, but she looked as bleary-eyed as Jazz felt. She’d staggered out of Fatima and Khadija’s room about six. Now here they sat, waiting for their appointment with Master Bopherson.

  BeBop balanced cross-legged on the floor despite the pinstriped trousers, white shirt, and leather vest he wore. Khadija and Fatima, both totally casual except for their brightly colored headscarves, occupied the two chairs that might have been described as “easy” a bit earlier in their lifespan but at that point mostly looked worn.

  Jazz glanced at his smartwatch.

  BeBop said, “No worries, baby. We won’t be late. Drink your coffee.”

  Fatima got up and retrieved some good-smelling pastries from the oven and proceeded to pass them around.

  Absent-mindedly, Jazz grabbed a scone and bit an end off. “Umph.” He shoved crumbs back between his lips. “This is good.”

  Fatima flashed her sweet smile. The girl was one of the prettiest people Jazz had ever seen. Like Dash. Jazz pressed a hand against his chest. Thinking of Dash made all his nerves tingle and his chest hurt more.

  Carla put a hand on his leg. “You okay?”

  Jazz nodded. “It’s like a buzz under my skin and this throb like hurry, hurry, hurry.” He rubbed his hands over his arms.

  Khadija said, “It’s how Dash felt when you were captured by Nardo. He could tell when you were frightened and when you were angry.”

  Jazz nodded but could feel his own frown. “Yeah, we have this link thing. Or at least we had it. But since he’s been gone, I haven’t been able to feel him or connect with him at all. It’s been weird—and lonely. Until yesterday. Suddenly, it’s this sickening wave of, like, unhappiness, and then later just… I don’t know what to say except danger. Like a certainty of great danger’s sitting on my chest and I can barely breathe.” He wiped his hands over his face. “The really bad thing is, that last part probably isn’t coming from Dash. It’s like maybe I’m feeling something else, and maybe Dash doesn’t know, and….” He shook his head. “Oh man.”

  Carla tightened her warm hand on his arm. “Don’t worry. We’ll find him.”

  Jazz nodded again but it was like a robot. The word slid out. “How?”

  She said in that supercertain Carla way, “Master Bopherson will know. He knows everything about the supernatural world, right, BeBop?”

  “Sure.” BeBop didn’t sound sure.

  Jazz ate the whole scone since it was just that good, then said, “Shouldn’t we get going?”

  Khadija leaned forward in her chair. “While you go to BeBop’s uncle, Fatima and I are checking with our sisters. There’s always a chance that one of them may have heard about the location of—you know.” She dropped her eyes.

  Carla said, “Right. Arcan—”

  Fatima put a finger to her lips. “Shh. The name should not be spoken needlessly.”

  “Really?”

  “It is tradition.” She looked up with wide eyes. “There are those who say it’s a myth. That it doesn’t exist.”

  Carla snorted. “I’d hate to think they made Dash leave us for something that’s fake.”

  Fatima cocked her head. “Me too.”

  BeBop said, “What’ll you do if we find out this place is in like the Himalayas or Machu Pichu or something? I mean, r
escue’s cool, baby, but tough to do between classes.”

  Jazz rubbed his hands up his arms. “I’m not sure.” He exhaled trying to get the ants to quit crawling up his neck. “To tell the truth, I’m not that into school.” He chewed his lip. That sounded scary coming out of his own mouth.

  Carla’s head snapped up. “You’re not?”

  “I know, that sounds really crappy.” Gods, he wanted to scratch his skin off. “I mean, the school gave me a scholarship, and there are so many kids who’d give their teeth to go to Yale, and I’m complaining. It’s just….” He looked at each of his friends in turn. “I guess I felt like what we did together this summer was… special.” He tossed himself back against the couch cushions. “I don’t mean like woo-woo, ain’t I all that. I mean like we helped people and made a difference and….” He shook his head.

  Khadija spoke in that soft thoughtful way. “I think we all understand you, Jazz. Fatima and I are fortunate that we get to protect and serve all the time.”

  Fatima cut in. “But our concerns are so centered on our community when there are many who need our help. We had the joy of sharing our gifts with a wider world, and it’s hard to go back.”

  BeBop held up a hand. “Hey man, I dig. I mean, I like teaching, and having a PhD will be cool and all that, but I’m not totally sure why I need it. What’s it for? Now getting rid of Nardo? That killed, man. It was turned up.”

  There was a moment’s silence, and then Fatima’s soft voice said, “I wonder what has become of him?”

  Carla nodded. “Yeah. Lysandra said they had him under control.” She raised her shoulders and dropped them, but didn’t look all that casual.

  “My uncle says he’s one of the most powerful creatures alive. I sure hope that lock and key’s pretty tight.” BeBop chuckled, but even he sounded uncomfortable.

  Khadija said, “What about you, Carla? Are you finding your course of study stimulating?”

  Carla dropped her head down onto her knees, then popped up so her long hair flipped. “Wish I could say yes, but I was telling Jazz, these people are so basic. They’re already planning what firm is going to hire them when they get out of law school. Jeez, they haven’t even finished a semester of undergrad. I guess I feel like you guys do, but damn, I can’t afford to. I mean, you’re all superordinary for real. Me? I’m the regular old human. Nobody’s snapping a cape on me. I’m not going to lead a pack or wipe out bad guys or invent a new mathematical solution to the big bang. I’ve gotta get a job, and for that I need a college education.” Her head fell back on her knees.