Trials of Magic
Page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Also by Thomas K. Carpenter
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Trials of Magic
Book One of the Hundred Halls By
Thomas K. Carpenter
Copyright Information
Trials of Magic
Book One in the Hundred Halls
Copyright © 2016 by Thomas K. Carpenter
Published by Black Moon Books
www.blackmoonbooks.com
Cover Design Copyright © 2016 by Ravven.com
Discover other titles by this author on:
www.thomaskcarpenter.com
This is a novel work of fiction. All characters, places, and incidents described in this publication are used fictitiously, or are entirely fictitional.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or trasmitted, in any form, or by any means, except by an authorized retailer, or with written permission of the publisher. Inquires may be addressed via email to thomaskcarpenter@gmail.com
CONTENTS
Trials of Magic
About the Author
Other Works
Copyright
Start Reading Now
Chapter One
No one had died today. In fact, no one had died in the last seven days. It was the longest stretch since Aurie had joined the fourth-floor team as an orderly, which made it a joyous event, and simultaneously a superstitious one.
Aurie dodged around the Jell-O cart, skidding to a stop outside room 438. A sign in big red letters read "WARNING. No perfumes, magical ointments, or any alchemy reagents within thirty feet."
She gave her aquamarine scrubs a voracious sniff. While she'd washed her scrubs by hand that morning, using a plain soap bar in the shower, and used talcum powder for deodorant, Aurie was worried she'd picked up hitchhiking scents on the crowded train ride.
The only smell she detected was her mild body odor mixed with the talcum, so she went in.
An emaciated girl on the bed lit up. "Awesome Aurie!"
As she stretched her arms out, the dozens of wires connected to her limbs from scaffolding around the bed quivered.
"Elegant Emily," said Aurie, leaning over to give a hug, careful not to break a wire.
Aurie hid a grimace as she realized how thin Emily had gotten.
"How's it going, kiddo?" Aurie asked.
Emily put up a brave face. Suddenly, the car noises in the street outside quieted. Aurie could feel her heart press against her chest.
"I heard the doctor tell the nurse that she's out of spells," she said, staring at her bone-thin hands.
"I'm sure that's not true. There are always more spells. The doctor probably meant that she's out of spells, and needs to learn a few more to treat you," she explained.
Aurie reached in her pocket and pulled out a painted miniature about two inches high. The figure wielded twin scimitars in a fighting pose with the suggestion of winds swirling around her.
"It's you. A wind dancer," said Aurie while she tucked a strand of errant blonde hair behind Emily's ear.
"There's no such thing as a wind dancer," said Emily.
"You can be the first then, and have your own hall," said Aurie.
Emily offered a bittersweet smile as she cradled the miniature as if it were a puppy. The poor girl had been cursed by a vengeful air elemental to be near weightless. The wires kept her from floating to the ceiling. Without gravity acting on her body, she was wasting away like an astronaut in space for too long, and the airiness of her body made her susceptible to allergens.
"She looks like you," said Emily.
Aurie squinted to bring the details into focus. She'd had a friend paint it for her, but hadn't had a chance to study it.
"Yeah, I guess she has my olive skin and dark hair. I don't see any freckles, though," said Aurie.
"Or those dark circles," said Emily, touching Aurie's cheek below the eye.
"Sleep's overrated," said Aurie reflexively. She'd worked the night shift at a convenience store on the outskirts of Invictus. "Hey! Maybe this means I'll be your first student at the Hundred Halls."
Emily shook her head with faux indignation. "That's silly. You have your Merlins tomorrow." Then her eyes went wide as if she'd said something wrong. "I...I need the nurse," she said suddenly, jamming the call button.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?" asked Aurie, examining Emily for signs of danger.
The hard soles of running nurses echoed in the hallway. Aurie spun around expecting an emergency team only to find the doorway full of smiling people: doctors, nurses, orderlies, the rest of the patients—the kids.
"Surprise!" they yelled.
Aurie nearly tripped over her own feet, trying to figure out why they were surprising her, or even if it was supposed to be for her.
"I don't understand," she said.
Dr. Fairlight stepped forward as the spokesman for the group. She handed Aurie a small wrapped present about the size of a fist.
"With your Merlins tomorrow, we won't be seeing you much after that—"
Aurie interrupted with hurried breath. "I'm still going to work here. I have a job, right?"
Dr. Fairlight squeezed Aurie on the shoulder. "As long as I'm head of this floor you have a job here. Especially since this was where your dad did his residency."
"I miss him," she said.
Dr. Fairlight gave a comforting nod and continued, "But we know you won't have as much time. Especially when you get into Arcanium."
Guilt welled up inside Aurie. "The Aura Healers are my second choice. It's just..."
Everyone laughed. "You don't have to justify anything to us," said Dr. Fairlight. "You'll be great whatever hall picks you, though it'll be the Aura Healers' gain if Arcanium is too stupid to take the brightest student in decades."
Everyone always seemed to think that Aurie wouldn't have any problem passing her Merlins and getting into the Hundred Halls, but even some of the best students had to take them more than once. It wasn't usually an issue, but this was her one and only chance. She turned twenty in a month, which meant she'd no longer be able to take the Merlins. It was first time, or nothing.
"Open it," said Dr. Fairlight as the rest of the floor leaned forward. The kids crowded around her, eyes bright with the anticipation of her present.
Aurie patted a few heads before making a production of the opening. Some of these kids wouldn't be alive at their next birthday t
o experience presents again.
She tore the paper excruciatingly slow while the kids laughed and giggled and cheered her on. "Open it! Open it!"
"Hurry up!" said Emily from behind her, poking her with a bone-thin finger.
Finally, after a dramatic finish, Aurie crumpled the paper and threw it into the waste basket.
The kids practically climbed into her lap in trying to get the first glimpse of the gift. The open box revealed a pair of shiny earrings, eliciting an "ohhhh" from the crowd. Bright little rubies stared back at Aurie from the setting.
"You didn't have to do this," said Aurie, shaking her head at Dr. Fairlight, who'd crossed her arms and had a smirk on her face.
"Nonsense. We know it's been a rough go, what with you and your sister on your own. We wanted to get you something you could remember us by," said Dr. Fairlight. "Press the ruby and say 'lux.'"
When the words left her lips, a ruby-red glow filled the space around Aurie.
"They're perfect for late night studying when you don't want to disturb your roommate. They also help you see in the dark beyond the glow," said Dr. Fairlight.
"I don't know what to say," said Aurie, dumbfounded.
"Say thank you," said Dr. Fairlight.
"Thank you all!" said Aurie, then she gave out hugs, taking care not to aggravate the young patients' ailments. The "Children's Floor for the Irrevocably Cursed, Magically Ailing, and Supernatural Virology" housed kids afflicted with all sorts of strange ailments. Emily's weightless curse wasn't the worst by any stretch.
After everyone left, Dr. Fairlight winked and said, "Now get to work."
Aurie saluted. "Yes, ma'am!"
The rest of the shift went like a dream. There were no brown messes to clean up, lunch was cheese noodles, which was her favorite, and all the kids were in a good mood. It would have been the best day ever at the Golden Willow Clinic for the Sick and Infirm if some VIPs hadn't arrived right before her shift ended.
A nervous whisper traveled through the floor as Dr. Fairlight notified everyone that one of the directors was giving a tour to a potential high-end donor. Tension squeezed lips flat, and even the kids seemed to catch the spreading quiet.
From a side hallway, Aurie spied the VIPs. She'd heard from the station nurse that the potential donor owned the Herald of the Halls, the local newspaper that covered the halls and the city of Invictus.
The older woman, Camille Cardwell, wore a gold lamé jacket that made her look like she'd walked out of a fashion magazine from twenty years ago. The daughter, Violet, followed behind her mother while staring at her phone, obviously not paying a bit of attention to the tour.
To Aurie, Violet looked like the caricature of every rich girl she'd ever watched on TV or in a movie: blonde, rich, and vain. Granted, she'd never actually encountered a girl like that in the many high schools she'd attended over the years. The high schools Aurie went to were always on the seedier side of whatever town they were in, rather than the private schools that this girl had so clearly been a member of.
Aurie felt a little guilty for assuming that Violet wasn't a nice person. People had always made up stories about her and Pi whenever they'd been the new students, which had been too often. It wasn't fair that she did the same.
So Aurie went back to mopping the hallway, which took her the other direction, daydreaming about being able to enchant mops to clean the floor automatically. By the time she'd finished, the shift was nearly over. She pushed the bucket towards the closet near the main area.
A whiff of perfume caught Aurie's nose. She was so used to the antiseptic smell of mop water that the sudden infusion of musky plum snapped her head around. Violet walked alone, busily typing on her cell phone while nodding to the music she was listening to on her headphones.
The girl was oblivious to her location, let alone paying attention to the bold red sign outside of Emily's open door. Normally the nurses on duty warned people away if they weren't paying attention, but the station was completely empty.
Aurie dropped the mop and started running. "Hey! Stop! You can't go there! Stop! Stop!"
Oblivious to her surroundings, Violet kept walking. She was only a few feet from Emily's door. The last time someone had mistakenly worn perfume on the floor, Emily had gotten a severe case of hives, and that had been when she was heavier and healthier. A dose this close could be fatal.
Without thinking, Aurie lowered her shoulder and drove it into Violet. The girl looked up at the last second, surprise overtaking her bored expression. Together they went flying backwards, sliding a good ways on the recently mopped linoleum. It was a miracle that Violet didn't hit her head.
"What the hell is going on?" said Violet, pushing at Aurie to get off.
"It's Emily, I had to protect Emily," said Aurie, climbing off the girl.
She ran back to the doorway, preparing to call the nurses or hit the emergency button, only to find Emily's bed missing. Aurie panicked for a moment, thinking the worst, until she noticed the scaffolding was gone too. Then she remembered they were all going to watch a movie down the hall in the special theater.
"Oh, shit," said Aurie under her breath. She turned and held out her hands. "I'm so sorry."
At that moment, the director, Dr. Fairlight, and Camille Cardwell came strolling around the corner.
Violet wasted no time, pointing her finger directly at Aurie and saying in a controlled rage, "This, this girl just attacked me. She knocked me clear down the hallway, landing on top of me." Violet marched over to her fallen phone, picked it up, and presented the broken glass to them. "See."
Camille turned towards the director. "Randall. What kind of operation are you running here?" She had a light New York accent. She moved to her daughter's side with grace and not a hint of concern and began examining Violet as if she were a prize show dog at a competition. Violet looked a little shaken as she rubbed the back of her head.
The director, a man in a suit who looked more like a banker than a hospital director, said, "Is this true?"
"Wait. You don't understand," said Aurie. "She's wearing perfume. You can't go near Emily's room."
The director wrinkled his bald forehead in confusion before shaking off her words as if they were a bad sign. He repeated his question, this time more emphatically. "Is this true?"
"Well, yes, but you have to understand," said Aurie.
"Then get out. You're fired," said the director.
Dr. Fairlight put her hand on the director's shoulder. "Randall, you can't do that. And she's right. Look at the sign."
"The hell I can't. This girl just attacked the daughter of an important donor. Do you want our kids to get better, or do you want a mop girl?" asked the director in a gruff tone.
Aurie couldn't even move. It was like she'd been encased in ice.
"Randall," said Dr. Fairlight in the voice she used in emergencies, "that girl put one of our patients' lives at risk through her inattention. Aurie was just doing what I would expect any nurse to do."
A lump seemed to catch in Randall's throat. He glanced back and forth.
Camille finished her examination and put her hands on her slender hips. "She's got bruises up and down her backside. And look where she's at. Not anywhere near that girl's room, which I might add is empty."
The director turned to Dr. Fairlight. "I'm sorry. She has to go."
"What does she think?" asked Aurie, stepping forward and pointing to Violet. "I'm sorry I tackled her, but the girl who's normally in this room is very sick. I was afraid for her. The perfume you're wearing could kill her, and you were about to walk in front of her room."
Violet's nostrils flared as everyone stared at her. She glanced at her mother, eyes red with a mixture of tears and anger.
"Go ahead, Violet," said her mother. "I'll respect your wishes, whatever you say. Is that fine with everyone?"
After a round of nods, Aurie's stomach climbed into her throat. She needed this job. The Hundred Halls was expensive. She barely had enough for h
er and Pi for the down payment. Keeping up the payments to stay in school was going to be challenging enough even with this job. And the kids needed her, and she found in that moment that she needed them.
Violet glanced towards Emily's open door. Then she pointed to a location behind her, about where they'd ended up after the slide.
"I was nowhere near that door. You had no reason to tackle me, except that you're just a jealous mop rat. She doesn't deserve to work here," said Violet.
Dr. Fairlight burst into argument, but Aurie knew it was over. She looked back down the hall.
"Can I say goodbye?" she asked the director.
He jammed a thumb behind him. "Get out. Now."
Dr. Fairlight was crying as Aurie walked by. She gave a brief hug, but Aurie didn't want to linger and cause any more problems. Violet wouldn't make eye contact with her, while the mother stared with sour distaste.
The worst part about leaving was that she didn't get to say goodbye to the kids. Somehow that seemed worse than losing her job. She felt like she'd let them down.
Chapter Two
The bouncer took a long look at Pi's ID card. He looked like a rhinoceros without the horn. The reflection off a passing car made him blink.
"What kind of name is Pythia?" he grumbled.
"The kind that doesn't like questions," said Pi.
"You don't look like you're twenty-six," he said.
"And you don't look like you're smart enough to work the door at the Glass Cabaret, but Radoslav's still employing you, so that counts for something," she said.
The bouncer twitched. Pi knew what he saw. She had the body of a twelve-year-old boy, short dark hair, cutting blue eyes, and she was wearing tight black jeans, a white crop top, and glitter across the warm olive tones of her exposed shoulders. She didn't even look seventeen, which was her age, let alone twenty-six. Which either meant she was lying or had enchanted herself to look younger.
Pi met his gaze until he looked away and unhooked the velvet rope so she could pass.
"That's what I thought," she said, doing her best to strut into the bar, which felt a little ridiculous.
The inside reminded Pi of a noir film. A faint mist, neither vapor nor smoke, hung in the air. A small stage in the back was currently empty. Some French sounding mood music was piped in. Glasses clinked amid the occasional bass notes.