Outlaw: Spellslingers Academy of Magic (Enforcer of the East Book 2)

by Annabel Chase

  I turned to look at her. “I don’t slap runes on anything. I’m very careful and precise. The stone often tells me which rune it should be.”

  “And what? This stone is too pretty for words?” She laughed at her own joke. “To be fair, it is one good-looking stone.”

  I stroked the smooth exterior of the opal. “It seems to want the silence rune, I think. I’m not sure.”

  “Silence? What good would that do?”

  I released a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know. Make the whole room quiet. Good for parents.”

  Bryn laughed. “And unruly classrooms. Which ones have you already got? Maybe I’ll come up with something cool.”

  I nodded toward each rune rock on the windowsill. “Speed, strength, perseverance, gravity, clarity…”

  Bryn snorted. “Gravity? Like it makes you super serious?”

  I pulled a face. “There’s plenty of seriousness around here. It creates a force of gravity. It’s a defensive rune rather than an offensive one.”

  “Tough to keep in your pocket,” Bryn said.

  “It only becomes heavy when you activate it,” I said. “It’s not one I regularly carry anyway.” I decided to give myself a break from the stone. “Tell me how you manifested your sword in the cavern. It takes more than a simple manifestation spell to pull your own sword out of thin air.”

  “You liked that one, huh? It was part of my extra special training to make sure I don’t go off the deep end of magic.”

  “Can you teach me?” I asked.

  She eyed me curiously. “You want to be able to manifest your sword? It’s not exactly your weapon of choice.”

  No, it wasn’t, not that Bryn knew why.

  “I’d like to be able to manifest anything useful, really,” I said. “A rune rock from my collection I don’t have in my possession. My dagger.” I shrugged.

  “You need your wand,” Bryn said. “Unfortunately, you can’t manifest that and, if you don’t have it, you’re out of luck.”

  “Noted,” I said. “Show me.”

  Bryn slid down to the floor and produced her wand. “It takes more energy than a basic manifestation spell, so you don’t want to do it if you’re going to need to run really fast straight afterward or fight a giant hydra.”

  “Like you did?” I asked wryly.

  “I wasn’t alone,” Bryn said. “And I didn’t need to run.”

  “Point taken.” I produced my wand. “Lots of energy. Got it. What else?”

  “Complete focus,” Bryn said. “If you picture the wrong object or the details aren’t quite right in your mind, you’ll get something else. Something you may not want.”

  My throat tightened. “I’m familiar with that concept.”

  She gave me a quizzical look but continued. “So I’d spend time studying the items you might want to manifest. If you want the rock with the speed rune, examine every crevice of it. Memorize it. Call it forth in your mind and use your wand to channel the energy.”

  “You know every inch of your sword?” I asked.

  “I do now,” she replied. “That was part of the training, staring at the hilt, the blade, all of it. Committing it to memory.”

  “It definitely came in handy,” I said. And would in the field someday as well, I imagined.

  “We’re still in the academy,” Bryn said. “Everyone focuses on winning in class, scoring points, or getting good grades. They want to be able to accomplish these types of spells to win. I don’t really care about any of that. I learn them so, when push comes to shove in the real world, I can live.”

  I nodded. “Your survival instincts are strong, You wouldn’t be here if they weren’t.”

  Bryn bumped me with her hip. “Same goes for you. We’re survivors, Cerys. We’re not flashy like Dani…” She paused. “Okay, maybe I’m a smidge flashy, but you’re not at all. What you are is determined to live and that’s what will make or break someone out there, no matter what they’re capable of in an academy setting.”

  I gripped my wand. “Thanks, Bryn. That means a lot coming from you.”

  “Is there anything you can try to summon now that isn’t in the room?” she asked. “An object you already know really well?”

  There was. “It’s not a weapon. Does it matter?”

  “No, of course not. Weapons are useful, that’s all.”

  “Okay, I’m going to try something else.” I pulled my magic to me, then I closed my eyes and focused on pouring my energy into my wand. I pictured the object in my mind.

  “Imagine the object in front of you, or in your hand, depending on what it is,” Bryn said in a soothing tone. “You’ve got to shift it from your mind’s eye to reality.”

  I nearly broke a sweat trying to shift this item from my head to my hand. No one ever said magic was easy—except maybe Dani.

  “Here!” My voice vibrated with triumph.

  “Are you sure?”

  I opened my eyes and glanced down to see a roll of toilet paper in my hand. “Oh.”

  Bryn cocked an eyebrow. “I hate to guess what you’re trying to manifest with that one.”

  “It’s not relevant,” I said. “Let me try again.” Even though I hadn’t seen it for a few years, I knew every nook and cranny of this object. I just had to focus. I remembered the chipped paint and the tiny arm worn down from use. The missing tip of the wand. Energy flowed through me and I tried to push the object out of my mind. I reached into the fabric of reality and—

  “What is it?” Bryn asked. “A wizard?”

  I opened my eyes and there he was. Gunak the Great. My brother’s toy wizard. “Yes, a favorite toy from childhood.” Not my childhood, but still.

  “Does he do anything?” Bryn asked.

  “No, but I thought it would be nice to have him here,” I replied. “He can go on the windowsill with my rocks.” I walked him over and leaned him against the window frame. It was then that the rune came to me.

  Persistence.

  I plucked the black opal from the windowsill and carried it over to my desk.

  “Is that the sweet smell of success?” Bryn asked.

  “It is,” I said. “And now I’m going to mark my new friend with the rune for persistence.” I wouldn’t be able to use paints or a marker because the color wouldn’t show against the dramatic backdrop. I’d have to carve the rune.

  “Sounds like a plan. I’m hopping in the shower before dinner.”

  “Before you go, can I ask you a question?” I tried to keep my tone neutral so as not to alarm her.

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “I know strange things can happen as a result of a blood bond,” I began. “Is there any chance that…Is it possible that my feelings for Callan aren’t real?” Or vice versa. I wasn’t sure which would be worse.

  Bryn’s brow creased. “You think the binding spell I used made you falsely believe you have feelings for each other?”

  My gaze lowered. “Professor Langley said…”

  She blew a raspberry. “Cerys Davies, where is the blinding ray of sunshine I’ve come to tolerate? Anyone who’s seen you and Callan together will tell you that it doesn’t get more real than that. You two adore each other. Magic can’t create that level of emotion. You’d be more…robotic.”

  “Are you sure?” Bryn hadn’t been using blood magic for very long. It was possible she wasn’t aware of all the repercussions.

  “If you don’t believe me, do research. Talk to Robin or Cato. But don’t let your fear take over. I know how that goes.”

  I nodded. “Thanks, Bryn.”

  She disappeared into the joint bathroom.

  I pulled my carving knife from the desk drawer and set to work. It wasn’t as simple as other carvings I’d done. The opal needed extra muscle, even though the knife was spelled to penetrate the hard exterior. I finished the last marking and rubbed the opal with my polishing cloth. No sooner did I place it on my desk than the stone began to vibrate. I watched it carefully, unsure what was happening.


  The opal started to spin and flew to the floor, where the form of a man emerged. I scrambled backward and knocked the back of my head against the bedpost.

  “Spell’s bells,” I breathed, rubbing the back of my head.

  The man appeared to be middle-aged with black hair and eyes almost as dark. He was slender and well dressed, although his clothing seemed unfamiliar and old-fashioned. The maroon tunic was silky and adorned with a gold diamond pattern. He wore gold tights and maroon shoes with a curled toe. He opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out.

  “Are you a ghost?” I asked. He seemed corporeal, though I was afraid to touch him and find out.

  The man didn’t answer. He simply stared at his new surroundings. His expression was strangely flat.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  Again, he didn’t answer. He looked down at the opal and back at me. I picked up the stone and examined it. Could it be?

  “Are you a djinni?” I’d heard of djinn being attached to objects—stuffed in lamps and other objects. His appearance suggested as much.

  The bathroom door opened and Bryn entered the room wrapped in a towel. She choked on her own saliva when she saw the man in our room. “You need to warn me when we have visitors!” she coughed.

  “Sorry,” I said. “He…He came out of the opal.”

  She gaped at me. “Out of the opal?”

  “Yes. I finished carving and then I polished it to make it shine and he popped out.”

  Bryn faced the man, seeming to forget her current appearance. “Who are you?”

  “He can’t talk,” I said. “But I don’t think he’s a ghost. I think he’s a djinni.”

  Bryn blew out a breath. “It’s always something, isn’t it? Who do we tell? The chancellor?”

  “Yes, she’s our safest bet.” Although the chancellor had been traveling recently—rumor had it that she was providing diplomacy in places where it was much needed—but I’d glimpsed her blue-grey feather cloak earlier and knew she was back.

  Bryn shook her head. “Let me get dressed. Then you, me, and Aladdin can make our way to her office. I suppose you need to bring the opal, too.”

  “Yes, it’s his home.”

  “Or his prison,” Bryn said. She looked the man up and down. “Sucks to be you, buddy.”

  Chapter Four

  “What is this, child? A memento from your recent trip?” Chancellor Lindsey Tilkin gazed at the opal expectantly. The formidable head of the academy didn’t bat an eye when we requested an emergency meeting to show her a stone. It was difficult to ruffle those blue-grey feathers.

  Bryn and I gathered around the desk in her office, ready for the demonstration. Before I left my room, I’d tested the limited knowledge I had about djinn attachment and ordered the strange man back in the stone. Voila! Success.

  I shifted uncomfortably, acutely aware that I’d been specifically instructed not to take anything. Too late to hide the evidence now.

  “I’m afraid so. I found it in the river. It called to me.”

  A vague smile appeared on her pale pink lips. “And you couldn’t resist?”

  I splayed my hands on the desk. “I generally feel that if a stone speaks to me, there’s a reason. I don’t question it.”

  The chancellor’s gaze returned to the gleaming opal. “And there is a special reason for this one, I take it, or you wouldn’t be here now.”

  “There is.” I looked at the stone. “Djinni, show yourself.”

  The same man appeared in the office beside the desk in his maroon and gold garb. The chancellor’s reaction was imperceptible. “I see.”

  “He can’t seem to tell us anything,” Bryn said.

  The man stood awkwardly, still unable to communicate. The chancellor inclined her head, studying him. “I believe he is spelled.”

  “That was my assumption,” I said.

  The door opened and Hazel Hazeldine appeared with a tray of lemon cakes. The chancellor’s secretary was forever plying us with treats. She nearly dropped the tray when she spotted the djinni.

  “I thought there were only two visitors,” she moaned. “Dear me, I only brought enough lemon cakes for the witches.”

  “I don’t think our guest is able to eat,” I said. “He’s corporeal, but still more like a ghost.”

  “Yes,” the chancellor agreed. She stood and approached the djinni to examine him more closely. “That is a reasonable description.”

  “Not a lot of expression either,” Bryn remarked. “I can’t tell if he’s sad about being discovered or thrilled to pieces. You would think there’d be some emotion involved.”

  The chancellor continued to stare at him. “I believe it’s more magic at work. He is linked to the object with no means of communication. Quite deliberate, I’m sure.” She glanced at us. “You found him in the river at Petram Caverns?”

  “Yes,” I replied.

  The chancellor picked up the opal and rubbed her long, slender fingers over its shiny black surface. “There are many possibilities. This will require research.”

  “Do you think he’s been there since the Second War Between the Realms?” I asked. Djinn suffered many casualties during the war, which is one of the reasons a large portion of the population retreated to their own realm once the Djinn Accords were signed.

  “One of my thoughts, yes,” the chancellor said. “Or perhaps on his way to the underworld, given that you found him in the river.”

  “But he’s not dead,” I said. “He wouldn’t be attached to the stone anymore if he were dead.”

  “True,” the chancellor replied. “But perhaps someone hoped that he’d eventually make it there.”

  “But instead the stone got stuck at the bottom of the river?” Bryn queried. “Ooh, that’s rough. Stuck there for eternity.”

  “A fate worse than death,” I murmured.

  Bryn shuddered. “Like being trapped in a classroom with Professor Langley.”

  “There’s no fear of that, child,” the chancellor said. “We do not run the risk of becoming attached to objects the way the djinn do. It is one of their distinct vulnerabilities.”

  “I thought they were called genies,” Bryn said.

  “A simple matter of vocabulary,” the chancellor explained. “Those that opted to stay in our realm or in Terrene tend to be called genies. Those that retreated or remained in their realm are called djinn.”

  “But they’re the same?” Bryn asked.

  “For the most part,” the chancellor said.

  “Have you ever been to the djinn realm?” I asked. The idea of a land of smokeless fire had long fascinated me.

  “There are very few places I haven’t been,” Chancellor Tilkin said cryptically.

  “On that note…” Bryn leaned her elbows on the desk. “So tell us—what’s with the cloak and dagger routine lately?”

  The chancellor laughed lightly. “You are a rather impertinent child, aren’t you?”

  “Comes with being an orphan,” Bryn replied.

  “Oh, I’m not so sure about that,” the chancellor said. “I suspect you’d be this Bryn no matter what.”

  Bryn rested her chin on her knuckles. “Don’t change the subject. Where’ve you been running off to? Some of us have abandonment issues. We don’t like our parental figures disappearing.”

  The chancellor’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “I hardly think I’ve been disappearing, as you say. I have other duties aside from the oversight of this academy.”

  “Why is that?” Bryn asked. “Seems to me that being the chancellor of Spellslingers is a pretty big job all by itself.” She sat back and took another bite of lemon cake.

  “Is this an interrogation then?” Chancellor Tilkin asked. “Fine, but what I am about to reveal stays between us.”

  Bryn’s eyes rounded. “Really? I cracked you that easily?”

  “You’re more than capable Third Years. You shall face these pressures soon enough.” She cleared her throat. “To be
safe, I believe we should ask our guest to return to his sanctuary.”

  “Djinni, return to your home,” I said. The man dissipated, leaving no trace behind.

  “There have been reports of disturbances in the realm,” the chancellor admitted. “I’ve been asked to calm the parties in those areas that feel under threat.”

  “Disturbances?” I repeated. “Like what?”

  “Traces of powerful magic but no evidence of its purpose,” the chancellor said. “Understandably, the locals in the affected regions are on edge. They worry it’s indicative of an impending attack of some sort.”

  “An attack from where?” Bryn asked.

  “That’s one of the mysteries,” the chancellor said. “Salem Town, Mountainview, Rothschild. These are areas that have been stable for centuries, not prone to alarm or fear.”

  “Why call you?” Bryn asked. “Aren’t there teams in place for this sort of thing?”

  “Not for unofficial diplomacy,” the chancellor said. “No one wants to file a formal report because the evidence is scant. There’ve been unofficial investigations which have turned up nothing, so I have been reassuring the more paranoid leaders of these areas that no one intends them harm.”

  I hated to ask my next question, but I felt compelled to say it. “What if you’re wrong?”

  The chancellor was silent for a moment. “The possibility exists, of course, but the investigations were sufficiently thorough. The disturbances have ceased and nothing has come to fruition.”

  “Yet you’re still running off to placate them?” Bryn asked. “When will they get over it?”

  The chancellor smiled. “Your guess is as good as mine, but I get the sense that my travels will lessen in the coming months.” She spread her arms wide. “I shall be at your beck and call, child, as you complete your third year here.”

  Bryn gave a satisfied nod. “Just the way I like it.”

  I bit back a smile. Bryn didn’t stand on ceremony with anyone. I wondered how she’d fare as a warden, whether that trait would be asset or not. I’d never possess her boldness. Too difficult when I spent years serving as a dutiful daughter in order to serve as a role model for younger siblings.

  I retrieved the opal and slipped it back into my pocket. “What should I do about my new roommate?”