by Alex Linwood
They reached the cryomancy door first, and Magisend entered without a word to Portia. Portia stood for a moment alone in the courtyard, the magnitude of the day’s events just settling in her brain. She gave a sigh, then turned towards her own door. She wouldn’t be able to tell Ella or Mia what happened, but their faces would be a comfort, nonetheless.
Portia felt odd, exposed, now that Professor Hilda and Professor Aelric knew about her magic. It sounded like a good thing, but perhaps it wasn’t. Perhaps she was a mutant they would want to control and contain. Was she being naïve to trust them? Her upbringing on the street told her the smart thing to do was to run away, to hide. But nothing that had happened in the school gave her any reason to distrust either Hilda or Aelric. As grumpy as Aelric might be, he was always true to his word. But then again, neither one of them had said having such a wide magic pool was a good thing, only that it was unusual.
Portia watched her feet crunching on the snow, crossing the paths around the spiral. She liked to cut across rather than following the twisty path between the door .
Suddenly, a dagger blade appeared out of the left corner of her eye and swung towards her throat. Portia jerked back, raising her arms in defense. Turning, she saw Mark staring at her, a look of hatred on his face. Behind him, she saw Peter and Deyelna. Deyelna was dressed in all black leathers, and her face was stiff with hatred. All three stood between her and the door to the pyromancy house.
Chapter 15
Portia stared in disbelief at the trio in front of her. Deyelna was the most unlikely part of their presence. What was she doing outside of Valencia? Portia knew Mark was deep under Deyelna’s spell, especially with Deyelna right there, but what about Peter? Was he there by choice?
Portia backed up slowly. “What are you doing here? How did you get on campus?” If she could get Deyelna talking, it might buy her some time to the pyromancy door. The door would not allow them to follow her—if she could just get through it. It was not keyed for Deyelna, Peter, or Mark. They would be barred, and Portia would be across town, in the house at its secret location. But that door was useless to her if she couldn’t reach it.
“You thought you were safe at some secret location, didn’t you, you horrible brat,” Deyelna said, venom in her voice. “I told you I had a plan. And friends in high places. I’m not just a gang leader. I’m going to take over the whole city of Valencia… just as soon as I deliver your head.”
Portia circled around the group, trying to get closer to the pyromancy door as Deyelna talked. But she must have been too obvious, because Deyelna narrowed her eyes at Portia, then signaled to Mark.
Mark raised his hands, casting his magic light motes towards Portia. She squinted to reduce the glare then made a dash around Mark, wanting to get some distance from him. He turned with her motions and increased the intensity of his magic. The light became so intense that Portia could barely see, stumbling as she ran, and looking through slitted eyes.
Peter ran to intercept Portia, his hands outstretched to grab her. Portia saw his dark shape coming her way and veered away just in time. Peter’s fingertips brushed her. Portia glanced back towards the pyromancy door and saw Deyelna guarding it, standing in a fighting stance. Somehow Deyelna knew which door she was trying to reach.
Giving up on the door for now, Portia veered away, evading Peter for a second time. Mark’s magic was making it difficult to see, and the heat from his lights was melting the snow under their feet, making it slick. Portia ran away from the courtyard of doors, her traction improving the further she got from Mark’s lights. She was grateful to realize that he had not learned the skill of casting them as far away as she could, the skill that Elyas had taught her. If she could get some distance from Mark, she could escape the bright lights of his magic.
Deyelna let out an enraged yell of surprise as Portia ran away from the trio. Portia ran between the two closest buildings to the courtyard, pushing her way through the deep snow between them, trying to get out of sight. She could hear all three of them pursuing her.
Portia turned the corner of the first building. She stopped, struggling for air and then looking around to see if anyone was on the campus grounds nearby. There was no one. No one to help her. But then again, no one to see her use her magic. And she needed all of it now, even the magic that wasn’t pyromancy.
Looking at the path between the buildings behind her, Portia threw up an ice wall to stop her pursuers. She took a few breaths more then heard the cries of anger as they reached the wall of ice. A glow came through, an intense hot glow that Portia knew must be from Mark’s magic; he was melting the ice. Steam billowed up and around the sides of the wall as the powerful light evaporated and melted the ice on contact. If he was able to use that light beam on her, he could kill her. She had to get more distance.
Portia concentrated on Deyelna. She wanted to stop Deyelna most of all since Deyelna was more than likely controlling the other two. She envisioned a block of ice encasing Deyelna’s feet behind the wall. It took a lot of Portia’s energy, but she gritted her teeth and concentrated on the magic until she heard Deyelna’s exclamation from behind the ice wall; she must have succeeded.
Suddenly, Peter appeared at the top of the wall, his head poking out of the steam and quickly followed by the rest of him climbing to the top of the wall. Portia stopped working her ice magic on Deyelna and ran. Peter saw her and leapt down, chasing after her.
Portia berated herself for being so slow at working her magic. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she struggled to put distance between her and Peter, her legs struggling with the deep snow. Portia could hear Peter gaining on her from behind, his feet crunching through the ice and snow. Peter’s long legs easily overtook her. She sensed, more than felt, the rush of air as Peter swung a mallet at her. Portia ducked just in time and felt a whoosh of displaced air as the heavy weapon continued past her right cheek. A second later, a blast of light went by her right cheek as well—Mark had broken through the wall.
“Watch it!” Peter yelled behind him to Mark. Portia glanced back to see Peter nursing a singed arm where Mark had struck him with the light. While Peter yelled at Mark, Portia created a wild slope of ice underneath Peter’s feet. She made the ice a series of waves—nowhere was it flat. Peter yelped once again as his footing became unstable, sending him crashing to the ground.
Portia looked up in time to see Mark aiming his light at her once again. Deyelna was nowhere in sight. The ice at Deyelna’s feet must have held. Portia ducked, evading the light, then took off again, away from Mark and going between another set of buildings. She found an evergreen bush still thick with foliage even in the depth of the winter and hid behind it, waiting for Mark to appear.
When Mark came around the corner, Portia held her breath, waiting for him to come closer. When he was even with the bush, she grabbed him by the arm just as he passed by. She pulled him into the bush alongside her with a yank. She wanted to be alone with him without being discovered by Peter or Deyelna.
Mark careened into her, a look of surprise on his face at his target suddenly becoming the hunter. Portia tried to recall how Deyelna worked her magic. Mark grabbed Portia’s arm back, the look of rage returning to his face. He pulled at her, trying to get her out of the bush. Portia resisted. She knew she had to work quickly. She attempted Deyelna’s magic of persuasion on Mark, trying to use it the way she thought Deyelna had done. Mark stopped pulling on her arm, a look of confusion on his face. But he still looked enchanted, his eyes vacant. Portia’s efforts had some effect, but not the right one. She needed to cancel Deyelna’s magic, not force him to do another thing. She didn’t want to control him the way Deyelna had.
Portia tried again, but this time she concentrated on voiding Deyelna’s magic and sending it off into nothingness instead of trying to imitate it. A flicker of recognition came into Mark’s eyes when he was looking at her then disappeared again. This time, Portia had the right idea, but her magic wasn’t strong enough. She had to put
more power into it. Summoning all the strength she had, from the tips of her fingers down through her legs and feet, Portia poured her energy into voiding Deyelna’s magic. She felt Deyelna’s magic resisting, pushing back. Portia tried harder. Then, suddenly, Portia felt a snap in the air. Vibrations hit her skin as the air molecules around her recoiled from a burst of magic as Deyelna’s magic broke, sending Mark’s hair flying back in the burst. Mark stared at Portia, his look softening from rage to recognition. His gaze returned to what she remembered from their time together in Valencia. She had done it—she had broken Deyelna’s spell on Mark. He was back.
He looked stunned at his present circumstance, looking around the campus, at the snow, at Portia. “What is going on? Where are we?”
Portia pulled him fully back into the bushes, hiding them from view to buy a few minutes. “We’re in Coverack. You came here with Peter and Deyelna to get me.” She grabbed his arm with both of hers, pleading, “Help me.”
Mark’s confusion resolved into a look of pain. His face scrunched up. Portia recognized the look; it was the one he always had when fighting tears. “I don’t understand. I can remember doing horrible things, but I don’t know why.”
“It’s not your fault, it’s Deyelna,” Portia said. Snow crunched at the top of the path between the two buildings. Portia peeked out and saw Peter then turned back to Mark. “Please, help me fight off Deyelna and Peter. I can’t go back. I think they want to kill me.”
Mark winced at the word kill. He glanced up and saw Peter coming towards them. “I will help you. But I won’t… kill. I can’t do any more terrible things.”
Portia’s heart ached for Mark. She nodded. At least he was back. At least he would help her.
Peter ran towards them, his eyes trained on the bush. Portia glanced at the wall behind them. She didn’t want to be trapped against the brick wall. But the two of them could probably take Peter. It would be better to be on the offensive.
Portia grabbed Mark and pulled him out of the bush along with her to face Peter alongside her. Peter stopped running, his face twisted in surprise to see Mark facing him in a fighting stance. Portia and Mark exchanged glances then bolted towards Peter. Portia wanted to capture him and disable him so they could deal with Deyelna and find out why they were there. She was tired of running. She was tired of being attacked. She had to find out what was going on and, if at all possible, put an end to it.
Peter stared for a second at Mark and Portia. Then, where there had been one Peter, now there were two. Another one had stepped away from the original and stood beside him. It was impossible to tell which one the real Peter was and which was the duplicate just by looking at them. Portia and Mark each faced off with the closest Peter. The two Peters turned and ran.
“I’ll get one, you get the other,” Mark said, running after the Peter who had been closest to him. Portia didn’t bother responding except to run after her own. They needed to engage them before Peter thought to make more duplicates, if he was capable of doing so.
Portia glanced to see how Mark was doing in time to see Mark raise a hand and shoot a light beam towards his Peter. The light beam went straight through him. Now Portia knew she had the real Peter. She returned her focus to the Peter running in front of her, increasing her speed as much as possible. The snow made it difficult.
The Peter she was chasing turned to face her holding two long knives. She had only seen one knife on him earlier—one of the two knives he held was a duplicate. Deyelna did not carry long knives like that, nor did Mark. Portia instinctively pulled out her own knife from its sheath at her waist. She was painfully aware of how much shorter it was than Peter’s, not to mention his added reach from his long arms.
Peter ran towards her, attacking, before she had time to use magic instead of physically fighting. He swung with both knives, his arms coming together to trap her between the blades. Portia twisted sideways, leaning back and escaping the path of one blade. She was not so lucky with the second one. The blade sliced through her thick jacket and undershirt and cut deeply into her right arm. Portia’s right hand lost its grip on her own blade. She felt the sting of the wound and grabbed her arm to stop the bleeding while dodging further away from Peter. Peter turned to her, ready to attack a second time, raising his arms to repeat his double swing. Portia stumbled back and lost her footing, landing on her butt. She kicked her feet on the ground to scramble out of the way.
Peter made another step towards her but was knocked off his feet as Mark tackled him from the side. They tumbled in a blur into the deep snow, Mark furiously attacking Peter and keeping him from Portia.
Portia looked down at the blood from her arm. It covered her jacket and was falling into the snow beneath her. The blood was coming too quickly. She closed her eyes for a second, concentrating on healing her arm the way she had healed the tree. The magic was slow, sluggish. It did not want to be used the way she was trying to use it, but it relented, finally. The stinging in her arm subsided, replaced by a strange twinge. Opening her eyes, she removed her left hand to examine the wound. There was a white zigzag scar on her arm, but no bleeding. She breathed a sigh of relief.
Portia concentrated on Mark and Peter. They were rolling around so fast, it was hard for her to pick out one over the other. Finally, Mark pinned Peter beneath him, one hand on each wrist holding down the blades. Peter bucked widely underneath him. Peter outweighed Mark, and Portia knew Mark could not hold him for long. Not wasting time to stand, she raised both hands and sent a river of ice towards Peter. She concentrated on it covering his legs and his torso, and finally his hands. She did not cover his face and mouth. As terrified as she was, she did not want to kill him .
Deyelna came around the corner, breaking Portia’s concentration. Deyelna’s boots were dark with water. She must have found a way to melt the ice encasing her feet. Her eyes were black with fury. They were trained on Portia. She held two short daggers out in attack position as she ran towards Portia.
Portia scrambled to her feet, running away from Deyelna and towards Peter and Mark. She hissed at Peter as she got closer. “Stop attacking us. It’s in your best interest.”
He looked at her with angry eyes, his lips pressed thin.
“I could freeze you completely. Completely,” she said, motioning to his mouth.
His eyes opened wide in understanding. He quickly nodded agreement. “I’m not the only enforcer, Portia.”
Portia ignored him, turning instead to concentrate on Deyelna who was still running towards them. Portia sent ice out towards Deyelna’s arms to knock the blades out of her hands. Deyelna stopped running to duck sideways. The ice missed her completely. Deyelna gave Portia a look of contempt and a small laugh before running towards her again.
Portia sent a wider band of ice, one that would be more difficult to avoid, towards Deyelna. Deyelna ducked again, but the ice grazed her this time. It hit her on the shoulder and knocked her sideways. Deyelna lost her grip on one of her blades, dropping it into the snow. It disappeared. Deyelna growled.
“Surrender,” Portia said, mustering as much authority as she could. “Your enforcer will do nothing. You cannot win.”
“Never, you foul little thing. How dare you defy me,” Deyelna said, her voice low and gravelly.
“You have no authority here,” Portia said.
“I’ll always have authority over you, Black Cat .”
“No!” Portia said, shooting another tendril of ice out and knocking the second blade from Deyelna’s hands. “I’m no Black Cat. ”
Mark came to Portia’s side, ready to attack Deyelna. Portia shook her head no.
Deyelna’s eyes widened in surprise at Mark’s actions. She glared once again at Portia. “You think you’re above the rules. No one is above the rules. Not my rules.”
“Surrender,” Portia said. “You will never control me.” Portia just wanted this over. Her arm was throbbing, and exhaustion from the battle was sinking in.
Deyelna yelled incohere
ntly as she ran towards Portia.
Portia scrabbled back to avoid Deyelna, intending to knock her down when she got closer. But Deyelna reached into her jacket and pulled out another knife. Deyelna gripped the knife tightly, twisting her body to stab at Portia, who instinctively parried then hit back, realizing too late she still had a dagger in her hand. The blade sliced into Deyelna’s stomach with a sickening ease. Portia gasped in horror.
Deyelna fell back, the weight of her body pulling at the knife still in Portia’s grasp. Portia didn’t think to let go of the blade, so she was still holding it and drawing it out of the wound when Deyelna fell. The moment the blade exited, blood spurted out from Deyelna’s stomach. Portia dropped the knife and dropped to Deyelna’s side. She placed both hands on the gushing wound to stop the blood. It didn’t work. Blood oozed out from between her fingers, covering her wrists and flowing down Deyelna’s body to pool in the surrounding snow.
Portia had never mortally wounded anybody before. Her head felt dizzy with panic. She could feel Deyelna’s heartbeat weakening. Less blood came out with each pulse.
She finally thought of her magic. She closed her eyes, shaking with panic and exhaustion, and tried to concentrate on healing Deyelna’s wound. She felt, through the magic, inside Deyelna, but it was confusing. She wasn’t sure exactly how to heal her. She kept trying anyhow, blindly working. Deyelna stopped breathing. No, no, no. Portia desperately shifted her magic to Deyelna’s lungs, but they did not respond. Then, Deyelna’s heart stopped beating. Portia tried to force it to restart. It would not. Deyelna died underneath Portia’s hands.
Portia opened her eyes and sat back in shock. She had never wanted to kill anybody. Not even Deyelna. A strangled noise came from behind her. She turned to see Mark looking at her, wild-eyed. Peter glared at her.