The Zero Curse

by Christopher G. Nuttall

  “So fire then?” Adnan said into the growing silence.

  “Can you do fireproof?” Hikari asked.

  Adnan nodded, the rest of the class looked resigned, they could all do heat resistant even if outright fireproof was out of the question. The silence returned. Mitch carefully not looking at Gwen, or even in her general direction.

  “Excellent use of deductive reasoning,” Mr Greeves said as flames crackled to life. They blazed under the monkey bars and rope swings and spat through the air over the nets. There was even what looked like a shifting maze of flame. Mitch gulped.

  “I expected better of you Miss Fitzgerald,” Mr Greeves continued, “that was a fairly simple illusion. And you’ll be serving detention for your tardiness this weekend.” Gwen glared at him. “Now who wants to go first?”

  Mitch imagined crickets chirping in the background as everyone failed to volunteer. Adnan had started working his magic already. Shape-shifting was a slow process hindered by the conservation of mass and the necessity of maintaining all of the vital bodily functions. He seemed to be giving himself scales of some sort, salamander Mitch thought, dragon was supposed to be too dense for shape-shifters without a lot of extra fat.

  “Don’t all volunteer at once,” Mr Greeves said.

  “I’ll go,” Hayley stepped forward, apparently unfazed by the heat though Mitch was beginning to feel a little dried out.

  “Very good Miss Lake, proceed.” Hayley scrambled up the ladder and began to crab-walk across the highwire, somehow ignoring the flames that were licking at her feet and probably trying to melt the soles of her shoes.

  “Pyromancy sir?” Mitch asked sidling over to Mr Greeves, “you work in a library.”

  “Books are very flammable,” Mr Greeves replied. “It’s really not that odd if you think about it. You don’t plan on working in cryogenics do you?”

  Mitch shuddered; he’d hated biology. He just wanted to study maths in a nice quiet office somewhere without anyone asking him to run though insane obstacle courses or trying to eat him. Hayley was almost finished, apparently without any real difficultly.

  “How’s she doing it?” Mitch asked. No one had any idea what Hayley’s speciality was. Being freakishly good at everything wasn’t a speciality.

  “Rendering herself fireproof it would appear,” Mr Greeves replied, frowning at her as she cleared the last rope swing. “She’s not manipulating the flames in any way.” Hayley came back around the edge of the course, completely unsinged and unstained by smoke or sweat. She might have just come back from a nice leisurely walk though even outside it was far too hot for anything of the sort.

  “I’ll go next,” Mitch said. If Hayley could do it then so could he. He pretended not to hear Gwen’s giggle.

  “How is it?” Adnan asked awkwardly, he’d transformed most of his skin into scales and it was making it hard for him to talk.

  “It’s not that hot,” Hayley said, “yet.”

  Sam raised an eyebrow and Mitch reconsidered volunteering, Sam knew exactly how hot it was, but he couldn’t back down now. He climbed the ladder, it least this wasn’t his first time high-wiring over a pit of fire and there was unlikely to be a giant weta at the end of this one.

  It really wasn’t as terrible as it could have been. He’d spent most of the summer experimenting with creating a bubble of cool air around himself and he was doing the same thing now, he just had a lot more heat to compete with. The obstacle course wasn’t that bad either. He could have avoided the obstacles entirely if he’d wanted to try his hand at fire walking.

  Adnan went after him and came back with his clothes crisp and singed. After that he discarded the t-shirt. Sam followed him; like Hayley she came through unscathed. Hikari shot through the course like a cannon ball, sending the flames billowing in every direction and Gwen came back sweat-soaked but unharmed.

  “Miss Lake,” Mr Greeves called, motioning for her to begin again. This time the flames were hotter. They all went through it a second time, and then a third. Mitch almost froze himself to the monkey bars on his fourth turn after misjudging how much heat they had absorbed. He corrected himself hastily, hoping no one had noticed. It took a special sort of idiot to freeze himself in place in the middle of an inferno.

  Hayley was the only one who didn’t struggle with the rising temperature. Gwen came back with her hands blistered and burnt on the fourth run, her illusion that it was just an ordinary obstacle course failing to overcome reality. Mr Greeves sent her to the infirmary after running her hands under cold water. Mitch knew she’d be fine by dinner, the combination of illusion and alchemy would have no problem with some minor burns.

  Adnan’s pants got more and more singed, his scales shining with sweat when he returned until he pulled out on the fifth run, the temperature too hot for him to handle.

  Hikari’s vortex became increasingly fierce in its efforts to repel the flames and cool the heat. It was torture for the rest of them, the flames rose to the ceiling and the heat scorched the part of the gym where they stood. Like Adnan she dropped out on the fifth run, coming back to them coughing and soot stained. The flames had consumed all of her oxygen. She didn’t look hurt but Mr Greeves sent her to the infirmary for a check-up anyway.

  Sam dropped out on the sixth run, her clothing marred with soot and smoke and her curly hair frazzled. She was completely unharmed but exhausted and unlike their classmates she had the sense to quit while she was ahead. That just left Mitch and Hayley.

  Mitch watched as Hayley waltzed through the obstacle course with the same ease she’d shown on the first run. He doubted he’d be anywhere near as graceful when his turn came. His bubble of cold air had shrunk on each run and now it was little more than a thin membrane protecting him from the heat. This challenge was doing wonders for his control. He couldn’t even fully protect his clothes anymore and they’d been burnt and smouldering after the sixth run.

  “Are you sure you’re up to this?” Sam asked. “It’s getting really hot in there.”

  “Of course I’m sure,” Mitch said, glad that he’d remembered to change into his oldest clothes before class. Not that they were that old, Mitch hadn’t had the chance to outgrow his clothing in years.

  “It’s not a competition Mitch.”

  “I know that.”

  “Ah ha,” Sam said, rolling her eyes.

  “I can do it,” Mitch said. “Just watch.” Sam still looked unconvinced but she didn’t say anything. Hayley returned before they could argue any further and then it was his turn.

  He scrambled up the ladder to the high wire, gasping when the hot air struck him. His skin felt dry and tight, his sweat drying before it even had a chance to form and his eyes stinging. He wished the flames were advancing on him, then he wouldn’t feel like such an idiot for walking into an inferno.

  He kept that thought to himself, he didn’t want to give Mr Greeves any ideas. He took a deep breath, or as deep as he could in the superheated air, and set off across the high wire.

  At first it wasn’t so bad. His membrane of cold had shrunk until it was skin-tight and he could feel his clothes crisping and smouldering, his magic too tightly controlled to protect them anymore. He was forced to kick his shoes off halfway through the course when the soles began to melt and stick to the ground.

  He could feel the heat tearing at his magic as he forged ahead. It sucked the moisture from his skin and made every breath hot and painful. It pressed in around him, reminding him that their teachers were much stronger and more experienced. Mitch kept going, determined not to quit though the sensible part of his mind had borrowed Sam’s voice and was telling him exactly that. Mitch ignored it and focused on his magic.

  That had been his first lesson. Focus was the key. You focused on what you wanted and reality bent to your will. In theory. In practice reality liked to remain the way it was and it was less likely to be distracted than he was. Fortunately with his shoes gone the raging inferno he was making his way through was free of distra
ctions. Nothing else was stupid enough to set foot in it.

  He staggered onwards, struggling through flames hot enough to flash roast a whole cow. Maybe he should suggest that when he got out, he wouldn’t mind roast beef for dinner. The heat pressed in closer, sensing his focus wavering, and Mitch focused on keeping himself cool and fireproof. He was grimly aware that keeping his magic pressed into his skin was a bad idea. He didn’t have a margin of error anymore and as exhaustion set in he was finding it harder and harder to focus.

  He blinked, trying to work some moisture into his eyes, and shambled forward, groping for the next obstacle. He had to be almost at the end. If he’d been able to spare the focus and magic he would have given himself the ability to see infrared, the obstacles had to be cooler than their surroundings, but even the idea of doing so was almost enough to shatter his concentration.

  I’m not burning, he told himself. The air passing through my lungs is cool and crisp, not unbearably hot. I’m not burning. I’m cold. I’m cold. I should quit now. I’m cold. I won’t catch fire. I’m cold. Everything is cold.

  Now he was grateful for their teachers’ insistence that they not use gestures and words. The words would have died in his throat and he couldn’t climb a wall while gesturing. There were reasons unrelated to raging infernos for not using such crutches but Mitch couldn’t remember what they were with his brain baking inside his skull. He didn’t speak biology anyway.

  He reached the top of the wall and almost fell into the firepit on the other side before he caught himself. He’d arrived at the final rope swing. He groped for the rope and slid his hands along its length, looking for the loops he knew were there but he could no longer see. He found them and shoved his hands through, holding the rope as tightly as he could and telling himself that he was just imagining the burning in his hands.

  I’m cold. I’m not burning. I’m not burning.

  Clinging to the rope he launched himself across the pit. Fire, fire, fire, freedom. It was as if he’d passed through a wall and on the other side it was mercifully cool. He’d made it through. He began to slow and then swung back towards the inferno. He could feel it licking at his back, eager to welcome his return and he let go, falling to the ground to land in an ungainly heap just outside the flames.

  He’d been taught how to fall. He’d been taught to bend his knees and roll with the impact. Instead he face-planted.

  He opened his eyes slowly. He wasn’t sure how long he’d had them squeezed shut, but it wasn’t long enough. There were wetter deserts. The flames had retreated, the inferno fading away to nothing and leaving behind a perfectly ordinary obstacle course. He was supposed to circle back to the start but moving seemed like too much effort, he’d barely managed to roll onto his back.

  “You should have quit,” Mr Greeves said, running up to him. Sam and Hayley were behind him. Sam handed him a towel, not quite making eye contact and Mitch realised that his clothes were gone. He remembered kicking off his shoes, he didn’t remember losing his clothes. He flushed and covered himself with the towel, struggling to keep everything hidden while he rose to his feet.

  He fastened the towel in place and hugged himself, shivering. Without the fire to warm him he was freezing, even if it still felt as if his skin was a couple of sizes too small.

  “Come on Mitch,” Sam said, guiding him towards the door.

  “Where are we going?” he struggled to ask through chattering teeth. “Class isn’t finished yet.”

  “Mr Greeves said to take you to the infirmary,” Sam replied. They stepped outside, the breeze pulling at his towel and Mitch was forced to stop hugging himself to hold it in place. He was sure that it had been insufferably hot earlier but after the obstacle course everything felt cool.

  They reached the infirmary and Hikari helped Sam wrangle him onto a bed, neither of them meeting his eye.

  “Drink this,” the doctor ordered, pressing a medicine cup to his lips. He drank and the cold faded a little as they wrapped him in blankets and hot water bottles. A steaming cup was pressed into his hands and a plate of chocolate placed within easy reach. Sam and Hikari disappeared.

  The doctor cleared his throat and Mitch looked up at him, feeling trapped beneath layer upon layer of blankets.

  “I think we’ll have to keep you overnight Mitchell,” he said. “You almost gave yourself hypothermia and you’ve twisted your ankle.”

  “I can…” he trailed off. He could heal himself but that required magic and he had none.

  “We gave you a suppressant, you were still using magic to cool yourself when you came in. It will wear off but you won’t be doing any magic for the next twenty-four hours. Do you understand?”

  Mitch nodded.

  “Good. We had some of your clothes brought down for you,” he indicated a neatly folded pile on the chair. “And one of your classmates brought up your bag. Get some rest, dinner will be served shortly.”

  The doctor left, closing the curtains behind him and Mitch struggled free of the blankets to dress. The clothes made him feel a little better though no warmer so he wormed his way back into his cocoon. He devoured the sweets and thermos of hot chocolate they’d left for him, beginning to feel a little warmth seep through his body though not so much that he wanted to discard the heavy blankets.

  He twitched the curtains aside and looked around but the ward was empty. He was the only one stupid enough to get himself trapped here. Everyone else had been treated and discharged. They’d have told everyone how he’d made a fool of himself, by the time he got out.

  He returned to the bed but there was nothing to do other than listen to the ticking of the clock. He was still shivering too badly to hold a pen. He got up, still swathed in blankets, and shuffled out of the ward and into Nikola’s room. His dinner could find him there.

  For a second he thought that Nikola was asleep but then he sat up and smiled at him, scooting across the bed and motioning for Mitch to sit next to him.

  “I hear you tried making yourself into a human torch,” Nikola said softly. He coughed and cleared his throat.

  “I did not,” Mitch protested. He was already dreading the birthday presents.

  “What did you do then?”

  “Something stupid,” Mitch said, huddling a little closer to him. Nikola was wonderfully warm and didn’t seem to mind him leaching his body heat. “You know I can’t do fire.”

  Nikola coughed again and Mitch forced himself to ease back. Nikola might not miss the body heat but he did need to breathe.

  “You can’t do anything right now,” Nikola said, leaning against him. Mitch shifted uneasily, the last person to sit so close him had been Gwen but he needed the warmth and Nikola was too light to be uncomfortable.

  “Beats giving myself hypothermia,” Mitch replied. “I know you don’t like suppressants but they do have their uses.”

  “So do needles.” Nikola yawned and Mitch’s next shiver was more of a shudder.

  “I thought you were supposed to spend the day in bed resting,” Mitch said. He clearly hadn’t spent all day in bed. He’d washed the blood from his face and was wearing clean clothes but he looked completely shattered.

  “Hard to rest with so many angels about,” Nikola said. “And I’ve still got this wretched cold…”

  “So you thought you’d take advantage of your chance to make me sick as well?” He didn’t think he could get sick in the twenty-four hours it would take for the suppressants to wear off but he was going to have to risk it. He almost felt warm again and Nikola was nearly asleep, he’d feel bad for disturbing him.

  “Something like that. I take it I didn’t miss anything else today? Miss Bordeaux doesn’t appear to have eaten you yet.”

  “She’s biding her time,” Mitch said. “Just wait…”

  “If she does I’ll get Gawain to come talk to her.” Nikola smiled and rested his head on Mitch’s shoulder, “she’s not allowed to eat you now any more than she was at the feast.”

  “I’m no
t a pillow you know,” Mitch muttered, choosing not to think about how that conversation with Gawain might look. In his imagination there was a lot of red.

  “I know,” Nikola replied, “pillows are softer.”

  Mitch sighed. He would have just shoved Bates aside but Bates didn’t look as delicate as Nikola and Nikola’s breathing was slowing as he lapsed into sleep. “Sweet dreams,” he whispered instead.