Trials of Magic

by Thomas K. Carpenter

  Radoslav was standing behind the bar, cleaning cherry guts off a cleaver with a rag. He was everything she expected him to be: tall, thin, chalky-gray skin, hair so dark it absorbed light, and an expression so sour it would curdle milk at a hundred paces. He was attractive, but in a way that made it hurt to look at him.

  Pi summoned her courage and approached the bar, trying to maintain the arrogance that had gotten her past the bouncer. It took one flickering glance of his gray eyes to dispel her ruse.

  "I don't deal with students," he said in a melodic voice.

  The urge to sprint out the door nearly overwhelmed her. Beneath the edge of the bar, she pinched her side.

  "I'm not a student," she said.

  He met her gaze. She felt suffocated by it, as if she'd been dumped into a pit of asphalt fumes.

  "That's what I thought," he said, mimicking her tone with the bouncer. He'd known she didn't belong even before she'd entered the bar.

  "Hurry along now," he said. "Wouldn't want mommy and daddy to worry."

  Mention of her parents, long deceased, put steel into her spine.

  She couldn't meet his gaze, but she said with fervor, "I need a summoning focal."

  A sharp laugh exited his lips. He stared at her with amusement, revealing gleaming white teeth.

  "What would a whelpling like yourself need with that?" he asked, suddenly devoting his every attention to her, which made her skin crawl.

  "That's my business," said Pi, staring at the meticulously clean bar top. Not one errant drop of liquid marred its surface.

  "If you want a focal, then it's my business too. I'd prefer not to have my bar shut down because some irresponsible youngling summoned something she couldn't handle and put people's lives at risk," he said.

  Pi bit her lower lip. "I need to summon a faez demon. Nothing major. But it has to be something above an imp."

  Radoslav took another long look, as if he'd underestimated her yet again. Wry amusement was perched on his lips like a carrion bird.

  "You have no patron, which means you're either a fool to expose yourself to faez madness, or"—he tapped his chin with a manicured fingernail—"you aspire to the Cabal...probably the Coterie of Mages."

  Pi didn't bother acknowledging the correct answer. It would only annoy Radoslav further.

  "Assuming you can meet my price, can you perform the deed? What's your barrier material?" he asked.

  "Sea salt with a touch of silver dust," she said.

  "Silver dust? Oh, yes, no patron. How savvy," he said. "What about your mechanics?"

  Pi produced two quarters from her pockets, flipping them both into the air to catch them on the back of her knuckles. Then she started rolling them back and forth, making them dance across her fingers as if they were marionettes. When she was finished, she threw them into the air and deftly let them fall into her back pockets.

  Radoslav clapped softly. A modicum of pride welled up in her chest. Then like a snake strike, he grabbed her arms. He put his face up close and dug his fingernails into her wrists.

  Pi couldn't look away from his gaze. She felt him probing her mind briefly before he broke away.

  "More than sufficient power," he said, licking his lips. "What's your Merlin score?"

  "Never been tested," she said.

  "Tell me then," said Radoslav. "Why Coterie? Why not another hall? You don't strike me as the power-mad type."

  The first thing that flashed into her mind was her parents' faces, followed by the years of various orphanages and foster families. Pi rubbed the ropelike scar along her forearm.

  "It's the only way to be safe," she said.

  Radoslav drummed his fingers on the bar. "I guess the only question now is can you meet my price."

  "I assume that a favor from a future member of the Coterie won't suffice?" Pi asked hopefully.

  "Despite your promising abilities, you have a long way to go. Many a Coterie mage has disappeared due to hubris," said Radoslav. "So I'd prefer my payment in something more immediate and binding."

  The way he looked at her put a twist in her gut. She felt like an antelope being sized up by a lion.

  "I want your soul," he said.

  "What? You must be kidding," said Pi.

  "You know what I am?" he asked.

  "Yes," she said. "A maetrie. City fae."

  Radoslav winked. "Then you know I'm not kidding. But don't worry. I don't want your soul forever. Just a three-year lease."

  "That's a lot to ask for a summoning focus," she said.

  "A bargain if it helps you get into the hall of your desire. Besides, you've no other way to attain such a valuable magical device; otherwise, you wouldn't have come to me," he said.

  A three-year lease on her soul. It would mean he could make her do just about anything, and she couldn't refuse.

  "What will I have to do for you?" asked Pi.

  "Errands, little jobs, things like that. Don't worry. It'll be fun," he said, his lip curling at one corner.

  Three years. It was a long time. But she needed to summon the faez demon to impress a Coterie mage enough to be her sponsor. Without the focal her preparations were useless. But to purchase one outright was so prohibitive it was laughable.

  "I don't need to own the focal, only borrow it. One-year lease on my soul," said Pi.

  "Own? That was never my intention. The three-year lease was to borrow it," said Radoslav.

  Pi wished she had more time to think, but she knew that the deal would only get worse if she didn't take it now. She thought briefly about what Aurie would think, but that answer was swift like an axe strike. Her older sister barely approved of her interest in the Coterie, thinking it was a passing fancy rather than a life-long intention.

  "Deal," said Pi, holding out her hand. "A three-year lease on my soul in exchange for borrowing the summoning focal."

  Radoslav laughed at her gesture. "That's not how we complete our agreement."

  "Then how?" asked Pi.

  Radoslav flashed a grin so wide the Cheshire Cat would have been proud.

  Chapter Three

  The streets of Invictus were abnormally busy on that Sunday afternoon. Aurie made her way across the city, using the Red and Blue Lines, cringing every time she had to purchase a ticket. She would have hoofed it, but she needed to catch Pi before her shift at Freeport Games ended.

  With her face pressed against the train window, Aurie watched gondolas float through the sky on invisible wires. The airy modes of transport were reserved for professors and upperclassmen at the Hundred Halls. Someday she hoped to ride in one.

  The Blue Line brought her past a building shaped like a giant stone flower unfolding to the sun. It was the Acoustic Architectural Institute of Design, but everyone called them the Stone Singers.

  Seeing it only made her long to bear witness to Arcanium Hall. The hall of her dreams was built like a medieval castle. Aurie always imagined brown-robed monks moving through the halls carrying candles on their way to vast libraries when she looked at the ancient building. Arcanium had been one of the founding halls of Invictus.

  Not only did she have to pass her Merlins, but the Hall had to choose her as well. But Aurie couldn't imagine herself anywhere other than Arcanium.

  The brick building that housed the Freeport Games had once been a meat-packing house back in the 1800s, a tavern in the early 1900s, and even had a stint as an insane asylum. Or at least that's the story that Hemistad, the owner, liked to tell the kids that frequented his store.

  Inside, the steady hum of people gaming made her grin. A Magic tournament was going on in one section, while a couple of groups were playing various role-playing games on the other side. Adjacent rooms that could have been old holding cells were filled with terrain tables for miniature warfare.

  Aurie made her way to the back, where collectable sales were conducted. She hadn't seen Pi yet, but assumed she was lurking somewhere in back, sorting cards or organizing inventory.

  Hannah, one of Pi's
friends, waved from her table. She was running a role-playing game for a bunch of younger kids. Hannah normally looked like she could have played football with the boys, but in this case, she had a robe on and was making silly voices for her giggling players.

  Coming to the store was always bittersweet for Aurie because she knew that in another life, one in which her parents hadn't died, she might have been one of the kids who lived at the store, sucking down energy drinks and trading collectable cards with her friends.

  Behind a glass counter filled with every color of dice imaginable stood the owner of the store, Hemistad. Most of the younger kids just thought he was Swedish, but the regulars knew he wasn't human. Pi had a theory that he was an old werewolf because of the gray hair he had growing above his collar and on his ears, but Aurie thought he was something more ancient, more dangerous.

  "Aurelia," said Hemistad, his wrinkly face cracking a grin. "You never visit. I thought you loved my store."

  "I do, Mr. Hemistad," said Aurie. "It's just I'm rather busy these days."

  "Nonsense," he said, tutting. "You're a young woman. You should make more time for a little fun. And stop calling me Mister. I've told you before, it's just Hemistad."

  "Yes, Mi—Hemistad. Is my sister in back? I need to talk to her," said Aurie.

  His bushy caterpillar-like eyebrows wagged. "Pythia? She's not working today. She asked for the day off to prepare for the tests tomorrow."

  Aurie choked back an expletive. Pi knew they needed the money. How like her to take the day off.

  "Is something wrong?" asked Hemistad, faced creased with worry.

  "I...it's just...never mind," said Aurie. "I just need to find her, that's all."

  Aurie turned away, but Hemistad asked if there was anything he could help with.

  "Actually, yes," she said, "though I feel this is rather forward of me."

  "Go ahead."

  She chewed on part of her lip. "Could I have a job?"

  "Why of course," he said. "You're always welcome to work here. I'm not sure why you think that was so forward."

  She rubbed the cold edge of the glass case while she summoned her courage.

  "Do you think I could have a loan against my future wages?" she asked.

  When Hemistad's wrinkled face went through contortions, Aurie thought he was going to refuse.

  "You and your sister work harder than anyone I know. How do you not have the money for your Merlins?" he asked.

  "Pi got sick last year and had to spend a week in the hospital, which wiped out most of our savings, and two years before that our so-called foster parents stole our money," said Aurie.

  A flash of anger passed across Hemistad's face. The brief transformation from a docile old man to a maniacal killer left Aurie shaken, but after it was gone, she wasn't sure she'd really seen it.

  "People can be monsters," he said, in a way that made her question what he meant.

  "Yes, they can," she replied.

  Hemistad ambled to his cash register and pulled out the drawer. "How much do you need?"

  When she told him the number, his lips soured, but he pulled out a stack of bills and handed them over.

  "I promise I'll work all the hours you need to pay you back," said Aurie.

  His bushy eyebrows wagged again, all traces of the previous anger absent. "Once you're in the Hundred Halls, you won't have time to do mundane work. I have more important, higher paying jobs that need to be done."

  "Like...?" she asked.

  Hemistad reached out and patted the back of her hand, still clutching the stack of bills.

  "It's nothing that you would expect. But I want to leave it as a surprise. Humor an old man," he said.

  Aurie thanked him and left the store, wondering not only what she'd agreed to do for Hemistad, but exactly what she'd seen for that brief terrible moment in his eyes.

  Chapter Four

  Pi avoided the drug dealers at the front of her apartment by going through the laundry room at the back of the building. She stepped over a guy passed out by the dented washing machine. He smelled like old alcohol and urine.

  A three-year lease on her soul for a chance to get out of this hole seemed like a good deal. Pi touched the heavy object in her pocket: the summoning focal.

  She'd been nervous when Radoslav said they had to complete the agreement his way. She'd expected him to say that she had to kiss him. Not that he wasn't attractive, but he seemed like the type that would taste like an ashtray.

  Instead, he'd poured shots from an ancient dusty bottle that he kept on the top shelf, along with a single drop of blood from their index fingers. The shot tasted metallic and had made her teeth hurt.

  Afterwards, he'd given her the summoning focal and a smooth stone with some runes etched in it. The runestone was a marker that indicated her employment with Radoslav.

  Pi slipped into the apartment and, after locking the door, pulled out the focal. It was a golden scroll that fit on her palm. It wasn't real gold, but painted metal. Radoslav said it'd come from the base of Invictus' tower. She didn't question its power, because she could feel it thrumming in the palm of her hand.

  She threw the focal on her desk. The object was swallowed by the mess of crumpled papers. Then she started collecting the gear she was going to need for the summoning.

  A box beneath the bed had the video equipment she'd borrowed from her friend Adam. The only problem was going to be shielding it from the summoning, since electronics and magic didn't always mix.

  There were a few other things she needed, but those were easy to find since they were on Aurie's side of the one-room apartment. Her sister's folders were neatly organized in a color-coded system matching cross-reference tabs in her books. The whole setup looked like it'd been organized by someone with a My Little Pony fetish.

  Pi ran her fingers along the row of books as she thought about her sister.

  "I'd wish you good luck, but I don't think you'll need it. I don't think anyone's been more prepared for a test in the history of the halls," said Pi.

  She finished her preparations, putting everything she needed into a cardboard box with carrying handles. Then she grabbed some mints she had on her desk and shoved them into a back pocket. Then she put a warm Diet Coke she wanted for the caffeine into the box. She went through the list in her head, almost forgetting the golden scroll she'd thrown onto the desk.

  Pi rescued the summoning focal and placed it in the box with the other items. She slipped on a black T-shirt with the words Don't Blink over her white crop top and threw a grease-stained towel over the top of the box to discourage curiosity.

  With the box in hand, Pi left the apartment. She left through the front since the drug dealers seemed to be distracted by something further up the street. They'd surrounded an older woman in a gaudy hand-knit sweater carrying bags of groceries.

  The relief that she didn't have to deal with the drug dealers faded as she heard them taunt the woman.

  "If you don't like it, then get the fuck out of our neighborhood," said one of the drug dealers to a chorus of laughter.

  "Not my problem. Not my problem," muttered Pi as she started hurrying away.

  A heavy crash startled Pi. They'd ripped one of the bags. Spaghetti sauce in canning jars shattered. The woman's legs were splattered in red marinara.

  Pi stopped and sighed.

  "It's not my problem," she said, before marching back to the front of the apartment and shoving the cardboard box beneath the half-dead bushes in front. She grabbed the Diet Coke to have something to do with her hands.

  As she approached the drug dealers, she tried to form a plan, but nothing came. There were five of them standing around the woman, laughing. She was holding onto the second bag as if it were her children.

  Pi contemplated using magic, but that would be stupid. Besides her need to conserve in preparation for tonight's summoning, any magic use without a patron risked faez madness. She didn't want to be one of those crazy bums that lurked in the
alleyways making trash cans dance for their amusement.

  "Hey fellas," she said from twenty feet away. "Why don't you leave the lady alone. Don't you guys have some puppies to torture?"

  They turned and looked at her.

  "What the? You're one nutty bitch to think you can tell us what to do," said the tallest drug dealer. He had a red bandana around his neck. He started walking towards her with his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

  Pi flashed an inviting grin, full of confidence.

  "Hey, isn't that one of those sisters studying to be mages in the Hall?" asked one of the other dealers.

  The red bandana dealer slowed to a stop. "Nah, man. And even if she is, she can't do nothin' yet if she ain't in one. That's how it works."

  "Actually, that's not how it works. Anyone who has ability can use magic. It just gets a little messy without a patron, that's all. So rather than just knock you down with a spell, I might accidentally tear your head off or transport you into the faez realm. Oops. No big deal, right?" said Pi, with a sarcastic shrug.

  Doubt crept into their eyes, especially the ones in back. But the guy in front shook his head, as if he couldn't be bothered.

  "No. No way. I ain't listenin' to your bullshit," he said, marching towards her, preparing himself for violence.

  "Crap," Pi muttered under her breath. She thought about running, but that would only make things worse. "Luck favors the bold."

  Remembering an internet video Aurie showed her once, Pi pulled the mints from her back pocket. Then she tore the wrapper off the side, opened her Diet Coke, and started chanting: "E pluribus Unum. Annuit coeptis! Turn this soda into acid!"

  Red Bandana was only a few steps away when she palmed the candies inside the soda. The reaction was immediate. Brown foamy liquid jettisoned from the plastic bottle. As soon as Red Bandana saw it, his face dropped, and he turned and ran.

  Pi pointed the bottle at the other drug dealers and moved towards them, chanting the same words over and over. They broke and ran. Pi threw the bottle after them.

  "Thank you," said the woman. She had threads of gray in her hair and soft lines around her eyes. "I'd made enough sauce for the year."