"Yeah, just processing," said Vin with his eyes slightly bugged out.
"I shaved it a few days ago," said Skylar, running her hand over the fuzz. "It's not too extreme, is it?"
"No," said Portia, who reached out and vigorously rubbed Skylar's head with two hands. "It's amazing. I love it. Is this Ripley from Alien? Or maybe Evey from V for Vendetta?"
"I'm just surprised," said Keelan. "I like it, but I'm surprised. Doesn't it go against your fashionista plans?"
While looking back over her shoulder as if she could see into Los Angeles, Skylar snarled her lips. "This summer was a disaster. I love clothes, makeup, the whole deal, but dealing with those awful people all summer, coming into the boutique, treating us like crap. I hated it." She shook her head, looking at her boots. "So I'm taking a break. I figured this was as far away from fashionable as I could get."
Vin scrunched up his mouth. "A million stoner girls just shed a tear."
"Enough about me," said Skylar, poking them each rapidly. "What the hell did you guys do all summer?"
"I got dirt on people while looking fly," said Vin, spreading his arms out in a ta-da motion.
Portia held up her arm. A nasty curved scar went down the length of her forearm. "I hiked the PCT, from Mexico to Canada. A manticore attacked me on a mountain in Oregon. I scared it away, but it got me with a tail spike."
The others looked at Zayn and Keelan, and then Keelan looked at him. Zayn opened his mouth to speak, but he and his cousin hadn't talked about all that had happened during the summer. He'd meant to on the train ride up, but Keelan had slept the whole way.
"I mean, it's Varna," said Zayn with a shrug. "What is there to do?"
He could tell by the way they looked at him that they knew he was obfuscating, but it was the first day back, and they were giving him a pass.
"The gondola's here," said Vin.
They approached the gondola from the student line. When they got up to the front, the attendant, a grotesquely long-limbed guy who was probably from Oestomancium Hall pulled aside the velvet rope.
"Zayn, Keelan, Skylar, Portia, Vin?" he rattled off, reading from a piece of paper.
"Yeah?"
He stepped out of the way, motioning for them to get inside. "This one is yours, private car."
No one said anything, because they didn't have to. This was strange, but they weren't about to question it...yet. When the door closed and the car lurched into motion, Skylar said, "What's going on? Where's the rest of the class?"
"I was wondering that myself," said Zayn.
Portia snapped her fingers. "Did you guys sense something when you first came to the city? Like you'd stepped into a Dr. Alt painting?"
"I don't know that painter, but yeah, it was strange for us too," said Keelan. "Though by the time I reached the gondola station, it was gone."
Everyone was shaking their heads.
"Whoa," said Vin. "Check that out."
The team turned towards the second ward. North of the Glitterdome, past the rows of theaters with their spectacular illusions beckoning potential ticket buyers, an enormous building was being constructed. The details were hidden behind massive wooden privacy walls, but from the top, a golden beam of light brightened the sky.
The beam was as wide as four city buses, and when it slipped into the cloud layer, the edges sparkled as if it were being refracted a million times. Zayn almost expected it to be making a humming noise from its intensity.
"There must be dozens of stone singers working on that building. I can't imagine how much it costs," said Vin.
"Forget the building. Do you know how much land costs on that street? You might as well ask to build on the front lawn of the White House," said Skylar, shaking her head.
"Does anyone know what it is?" asked Keelan.
An uneasy feeling swirled in Zayn's gut. Something about it felt familiar, but he couldn't place his finger on it.
"I think that's what caused that weird feeling when we got to the city," said Zayn, speaking without really thinking about it.
Everyone nodded in agreement while they kept their faces plastered to the window.
"We're headed to the seventh ward," said Portia.
Zayn squeezed his face against the glass, watching the city pass below, which made him remember his first days in the Hundred Halls, when the gondola ride to the Spire had been a terrifying experience. Now he knew he'd miss the city when he had to return to Varna for the final time. But thankfully, that wasn't for another two and a half years.
When he glanced at Keelan, his heart grew heavy. After they'd learned the truth about Keelan's father, Zayn thought Keelan might have given up on becoming a Watcher, but he wasn't so sure about that after the events of the summer.
Instructor O'Keefe was waiting for them at the gondola station, wearing a kilt and a concerned expression.
With business-like efficiency, O'Keefe marched the other way when they climbed out of the gondola. Since she hadn't spoken, no one said a word as they followed her to a residential street with three-story brownstones stacked next each other.
Instructor O'Keefe brought them to a brownstone in the middle of the block with a white door and a brick front. A wave of her hand revealed runes on the welcome mat, which she disarmed with a whisper.
Inside, O'Keefe, wearing a sour expression, spread her arms wide. "Congratulations, this is your home for your third year in the Academy."
Zayn glanced around the modestly furnished house. There were stains on the stucco ceiling and the dining room table was dinged up. It had a slightly moldy smell as if the last residents hadn't done a good job keeping it clean.
"Why not the Honeycomb?" asked Keelan with his lips curled. "Third years didn't live out of the Hall last year."
"Actually, they did, laddie. We put a spell on ya so you wouldn’t know. Can't go ruining the fun you're gonna have this year," she said.
Somehow, Zayn didn't think his definition of fun matched hers.
Instructor O'Keefe glanced out the window in the direction of the second ward. "Schooling will continue, don't you worry about that, though some of your instructors will be different from years past."
"Will class be at the Honeycomb?" asked Vin.
Instructor O'Keefe pursed her lips with consternation. "Sometimes. There's a portal in the back of the Blackest Cup coffee shop on the next street over. It's owned by an alumni, so no worries. One of your classmates will be along with your books and your class schedules." She glanced around looking like she was suddenly late for an appointment. "I should go. Good luck this year."
The instructor whisked out the front door, leaving Zayn and his team bewildered. There were a lot of shared glances. Zayn felt like he'd been pushed off a truck in the middle of nowhere.
Before anyone else could say anything, Portia said, "Is it just me or does anyone else feel like this is a trap?"
At that moment, somewhere in the back of the house, a door slammed shut.
Chapter Two
Seventh Ward, August 2015
Wrong place at the wrong time
The metallic scent of faez filled the air as Zayn and his teammates put up defensive enchantments. Skylar took two big steps then leapt onto the bookcase next to the door leading to the back of the house. Portia pulled a flaming knife from out of nowhere, while Keelan and Vin moved into position on either side of the beige couch. Zayn, concerned that it was a feint, backed up to the front door, keeping the whole room in his view.
Zayn whispered, "Stunning strike," before the door opened, and the five of them blasted the person coming in with a spell that would numb the target's limbs. The spell had leapt from his hands before he realized the identity of the individual coming through the door.
The five spells slammed into their third-year classmate, Eddie, who had a stack of tomes in his arms taller than him. He was backing into the room, so the spells hit him right in the butt, and he threw the books into the air as his muscles seized up.
"O
h no!" cried Skylar, who was first to reach him.
Eddie hit the ground like a stiff board dropped from a truck, spit coming out of his mouth as he convulsed. Portia applied a countercharm, which released the worst of the spells' effects, but he still twitched for a good minute.
When he could finally speak, Eddie said, "What...what was that for?"
"Sorry, Eddie. This whole day has been a little off. We thought this place was a trap and the O'Keefe was an imposter," said Zayn.
Eddie groaned as they helped him into a sitting position. His pants had split down the seams during the convulsions, making him look like he was wearing chaps.
He wiped the spit from his lips. "Man you guys are weird. Everyone else was happy to see me. Hey Eddie, how you doing? What did you do this summer? Hey Eddie, isn't this cool we get to live in the city this year? Not an ass-full of stunning blasts. I feel like someone shot my whole body up with Novocain."
"We're so sorry, Eddie," said Skylar, grimacing. "How can we make it up to you?"
When Eddie realized who he was talking to, his face scrunched up. "What the hell happened to you? You fall into a blender or join a punk band? Or was it a punk-band blender?"
Skylar pushed him onto his back. "You had to go and ruin it as usual, Eddie."
"What?" he said as Keelan helped him to his feet.
"Never mind," said Skylar. "What's the deal this year? Did they tell you guys anything?"
Eddie shook his head. "Same shtick you got." He looked at them suspiciously. "Look, I got to get back to my team. I had the tomes all organized for you, but you can figure them out yourself. The schedules are in there too. See you all at the Honeycomb."
He left, shaking his limbs as if he were trying to get the life back into them. After he left, everyone went to the books. Vin found the schedule tucked into The Mastery of Mastery.
"This is weird, we don't have class until next Thursday, and it's with an Instructor Konig teaching obfusium magic. I've never heard of him or that discipline," said Vin.
"It's vaguely familiar," said Portia, "but go on."
"There's the usual sparring classes with Instructor Allgood. I can't believe I'm excited about seeing him again. No sign of Pennywhistle, Noyade, or the patron herself." He tapped on the paper. "There's an Instructor Minoan listed at the bottom, but no times or instructions are shown."
Zayn moved to the front windows, which faced the second ward. The golden beam towered over the city, competing with the Spire for dominance of the skyline.
"Anyone else think they sent us on the gondola for a reason?" asked Zayn. "Like we were meant to take a good look at that building."
"That's what I was thinking," said Keelan, joining him at the window. "It's like they're doing everything they can to not talk about something. I bet it's whatever is making that golden spotlight."
Portia, who had been standing to the side with her face scrunched up in thought, snapped her fingers. "Obfusium magic is a way to thwart divinations, seers, and even prophecies if you're clever enough."
Zayn looked to Keelan, who was nodding even before he spoke. "It's like when I fooled the Goon's amulet—the guy I worked for in Varna. If you were plotting against him, it got warm, like a warning beacon for treachery. I wonder if that's why they won't talk about it."
"There's nothing in the Herald of the Halls about it," said Skylar, looking up from her smartphone. "There's tons of speculation, but nobody knows who's building it or what it's for. It's got all sorts of wards on it. There's a whole article about students getting sent to Golden Willow Clinic with various ailments after trying to sneak in."
"Amateurs," said Vin, tugging on the bottom of his jacket with his chest puffed out.
"So yeah, we're going in there," said Zayn as he was looking at the class schedule. "But not until we do some things first. No need to rush in and end up like the others."
Vin put a hand to his chest in faux heartache. "Not rush in? Someone check him to make sure he's not a doppelganger."
"What's the first thing, boss?" asked Skylar, saluting him. "Do we need secret identities? Do I need to get to work acquiring a wardrobe room? Knockout potions or Forget-Me Bombs?"
"All that, yes, eventually," said Zayn, who couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. He'd really missed his team. "But first we need to do the important things, like pick rooms and go to the grocery store."
"Boooring," said Skylar, flopping on the couch dramatically.
"After that, we need to put some enchantments on the house. Eddie just waltzing in was a sign that we're unprepared. If...when we investigate that building, whatever it is, we need to make sure we've got a home base to come back to."
A general excitement permeated the air. After two years in the Academy of the Subtle Arts, they weren't fresh-faced novices getting their butts handed to them day in and day out by Instructor Allgood. They'd tangled with the Black Council and come away with the Word of Annihilation, a task once thought impossible, and saved the Hundred Halls. They were ready for anything the world could throw at them in their third year.
Chapter Three
Seventh Ward, September 2015
Biscuits but NOT gravy
A small fire had broken out in the kitchen, setting off the alarms and bringing Zayn rushing down to find his cousin Keelan in an apron covered with flour. He was standing in the middle of a room full of black smoke, coughing as he pulled a tray of burnt food from the oven.
Zayn opened the back door to let the smoke out. Keelan carried the tray outside, tossing it onto the concrete pad behind the house. Charred bits of bacon scattered across the grass.
The rest of the team flooded into the kitchen, waving their hands. Skylar used a wind spell to push the smoke out of the kitchen.
"What happened?" asked Zayn.
"I was busy with the pancake batter and forgot about the bacon in the oven. I don't think the timer works," said Keelan with his forehead scrunched.
At that moment, the oven dinged, and Keelan's shoulders shrunk as his head flopped back. "Or maybe I set it for too long. Neveah makes this look so easy."
Vin was poking the bits of charred bacon in the grass with his boot. "Bacon abuse. We might have to turn you in to the authorities."
Portia patted Keelan on the shoulder. "At least you burnt the bacon so bad that there was no chance of anyone eating it, unlike my chicken cordon bleu, with frozen centers and lava-like cheese, a culinary impossibility."
Vin put his finger into his mouth and tapped on the top while mumbling, "I think the roof is still burnt."
"You'd think we'd be able to figure out a simple recipe. We can do magic, after all," said Skylar, chuckling.
The ringing of the doorbell turned their heads towards the front of the house. The burnt bacon was quickly abandoned, as everyone ran to the door to see who had come to visit.
Zayn hoped it was one of the instructors with which they were familiar. While they'd spent the week getting used to living in a house together and reading through the tomes Eddie had brought them, they were anxious to start real learning.
No one was at the front door. A Zephyr Delivery truck was pulling away as they piled onto the porch. An antique chest sat on the doorstep. Portia, who was first, checked it for traps before bringing it inside. She placed it on the dining room table carefully, as if it might contain a bomb.
"Locked?" asked Vin as Portia examined the magical signature by exhaling faez. It was a bit like blowing on a window in winter to see if anyone had left a message. It was a trick that Pennywhistle had taught them last year, though it had its limitations.
"Yes," she said, "but it appears keyed to individuals. It looks like Academy work, so I think it's safe to open."
Everyone except Portia backed away as she pressed her finger against the lock to transmit faez into the mechanism. Once she did, there was an audible click, and the lid creaked open.
Zayn crowded around the open chest with his teammates. Portia pulled out a handful of passports, along
with an envelope that they quickly determined held plane tickets to London, roundtrip, with a one-day turnaround.
"Secret mission?" asked Keelan hopefully.
"I doubt it," said Zayn. "They're in our real names. And the flight is this afternoon in Philadelphia. We'll have to hurry to get there."
"I can't believe there's no note, or anything telling us what this is, or where to go," said Vin as he searched the chest.
Zayn flipped the envelop over. It had an address in London written on it. "I have a feeling we'll figure it out when we get there."
They kept packing to a minimum, nothing more than would fit in a backpack. As they headed to the airport, Zayn could hardly sit still, bouncing his knees in the back of the taxi-SUV. While he'd been through portals to other realms, he'd never flown in an airplane. He hoped they came with less nausea.
They had to go through the special line for people with magic. When they got onto the plane, they realized they were in coach class. Vin was disappointed, on account of his size.
The six-hour flight was uneventful. They landed in London, found a ghost taxi—the driver was wearing a top hat—and made their way to the address on the envelope.
They clustered outside the bright blue door of the house. Well-manicured bushes stood outside like sentinels. Before Zayn could raise his hand to knock, the door silently opened revealing a resigned Percival Davies in a three-piece suit, his wire-rimmed glasses firmly against his face.
"Cheers," he said, without a trace of warmth. "Do come in. Try not to touch anything."
Vin turned to everyone with his eyes wide with excitement and mouthed, "Imbuements."
"Thanks, Inspector Clouseau, when did you figure that out?" said Skylar, pushing Vin forward.
As they followed Percival through a delightfully English house with lace-covered couches on oriental rugs, paintings of older relatives hung on various walls, and the smell of coriander lingering in the air, Zayn found his mind whirling through the possibilities of what their third-year imbuement could be. It'd been a topic for the team during the week in the house. It was a bit like waking up on Christmas morning to open presents, only the present was something that would make you more awesome. The rest of the team looked like they were bursting with giddiness too.
The Reluctant Assassin Boxset Page 51