Wizard Hall Chronicles Box Set

by Sheryl Steines

  Annie pocketed the letter and contract. “We need to go,” she said. She grabbed Sturtagaard’s wrist and dragged him from the house.

  Spencer pulled Louis after them. They met behind the storage shed at the edge of the property.

  Annie pushed up against Louis. Her arm across his neck, she pinned him to the wall.

  “You begged to eat. You kept us from coming here. You knew they lived here. Why? Why did you let Amelie kill them?” Annie shouted.

  “Annie, no!” Spencer yanked her shoulder, but she pulled it back.

  “I… I didn’t know,” Louis stammered.

  “Bullshit. Who’s helping her? Who’s M? Amelie could not have reached this house so fast, even with her vampire speed. Are you a wizard?”

  Annie pushed harder on his neck. He struggled to breathe.

  “Not here,” Spencer hissed.

  “Girl, we need to go. Where to?” Sturtagaard asked roughly.

  “French Wizard Guard. We need help.” Annie glanced at Spencer who nodded.

  “We can’t go there! I can’t go there!” Sturtagaard shouted.

  “If you want back in, you go where we say you go,” Annie said. She released her hold on Louis and sent a quick text to Cham and Milo: Amelie killed again. We’re heading to the French Wizard Guard. Please alert them.

  Chapter 18

  Annie yawned. It had been a long day chasing the vampire. But there was still much to do, and the day wouldn’t end yet. “I’m sorry. I wish this was done and I could come home. But she’s…” She watched the crowds still growing at all of the elevators taking tourists to the top of the Eiffel Tower.

  “Annie?” Cham asked on the other end of the phone when she stopped midsentence.

  “Yeah. Sorry. I’m watching the crowds we’ll have to navigate in order to get into the French Wizard Guard. It’s really thick,” she said while stifling another yawn.

  “Be careful,” Cham said. A door swooshed open on his end of the line. He pulled the phone from his mouth and spoke with someone who sounded male.

  “Sorry. I just got to the Hall. Manny says hi,” Cham announced.

  “You feeling okay?” Thinking of his accident, of the walls closing in on him, the smoke that billowed and rose around her while she watched Bitherby teleport him out of the burning dormitory—it all made her shudder. She wondered if it ever would stop.

  “I’m on desk duty, remember. Sorta managing you and Spencer. It’ll be fine. I’m just worried about you,” he said. Annie sighed and glanced at the Eiffel Tower. The famous landmark was packed with tourists waiting to climb the tower.

  And we have to get in from there.

  “And Milo got you the instructions to get in the French Wizard Guard?” Cham asked after he passed the security desk.

  “Yeah. They were very specific. We need to get on the west elevator alone. They gave us the spells to use. I’m just not so sure we’ll be able to make it work. Not with the vampire and the nonmagical… you know.” She lowered her voice. The crowds had grown larger since they arrived.

  “And your head?” Cham asked. Annie could picture him entering the back hallway to the elevators on his way to the fifth floor.

  “I’m cured of the concussion. Even my arm is healed. I promise, I’m fine. We’ll call if we need you to come. The French Wizard Guard should be plenty of backup.” Exhaustion seeped into Annie. Crisscrossing Europe expended so much magical energy. She could drop where she stood.

  I just want Cham.

  Louis fidgeted beside her. If she had her way, she’d jinx him. He was getting on her nerves.

  While they mulled around a bench pretending to be tourists, Spencer prepared a mind manipulation spell to get past the hordes of people wanting to get on the elevator.

  Sturtagaard, sat calmly and glanced at them periodically, sneering or snickering when it suited him; he was highly amused at their plight.

  “I need to go,” Annie sighed when Spencer gave her the hand signal.

  “I love you,” Cham said.

  “I love you,” Annie replied and hung up the phone.

  She felt Sturtagaard’s glare, his eyes penetrating and dark, his nostrils flared. Not in the mood, she scowled. He shrugged.

  “How bad does the west elevator look?” Annie asked Spencer, who was looking at their target through a camera.

  “It’s late but the crowds are still lingering. Go ahead and start walking. I’ll chant the spell when we get there,” he said slipping the camera around his neck. “Ready?” he asked apprehensively.

  “I’m ready.” Annie turned to Louis. “You keep your mouth shut and do what we say. Do you understand?” she whispered with intensity. Louis nodded quickly.

  Annie linked arms with him. He was sweaty from fear. It radiated off of him in a bitter stink. Grimacing, she led him toward the tower, blending themselves into the crowd and matching the flow.

  When they were safely inside the fences and in line, Spencer and Sturtagaard followed.

  Annie glanced at the crowd, which was still growing larger as they entered the line. Her discomfort made her anxious; she wondered how they were going to make this work.

  This seems like a lot of work to enter the hall!

  She caught sight of Spencer and an uninterested Sturtagaard as they took their place in line. Looking away she glanced at the odd little man beside her. His purple hat had a bright red feather sticking up from the band. He smiled at her with crooked teeth before returning to his map of Paris.

  After learning the instructions for entering the hall, both Annie and Spencer thought the arrangement was odd. It was so much easier to enter a courtyard and walk inside.

  Annie sighed and glanced upwards. The Eiffel Tower wasn’t the tallest structure she had ever seen, but it towered over everything else in the vicinity. The angle overwhelmed her; she was dizzy looking up at the angles and lights.

  I wish this wasn’t business.

  Ten more tourists slid into the elevator. The doors closed with efficiency, sending the elevator upwards.

  Annie peered around the couple in front of her and realized they were only four groups from being able to enter the elevator. She held her breath as all four groups squeezed themselves inside, leaving her and Louis next in line.

  Louis fidgeted beside her, she squeezed his wrist and offered him an annoyed glance.

  The elevator returned to ground level and the doors slid open. A large group of tourists exited, leaving plenty of room for Annie and Louis. While Annie held the elevator open, Spencer used the first of the spells advised by the French Wizard Guard, which warded off passengers from following them inside.

  Once Spencer arrived safely with the vampire beside him, Annie released the door hold and watched it slide shut. If those who had been waiting noticed how few people were inside, they didn’t express any anger at losing their turn.

  With her hand held over the speaker box, the same one that allowed nonmagicals to speak to the security staff, Annie cast the second spell, sending the elevator speeding underground and leaving the tourists above them in a suspended animation.

  The ride was quick and smooth; the cement walls flew by in a blur. Annie held on to the sides of the elevator, bracing for impact, but the elevator landed like a feather on a pillow.

  The doors opened to a hallway, lit with electric sconces that would guide them to the end of the hall and the front entrance of the French Wizard Hall. After they stepped out of the elevator, the doors slid shut and the box shot up to street level as if it never left. Those waiting for the elevator would remain unaware of the machine’s detour or that any time had passed at all.

  Though Annie thought it was a lot of work to enter the hall, she was impressed by the spell that had been well crafted in 1899, ten years after the Eiffel Tower was built. In all that time, the cloaking spell allowed the wizard community’s use of the tower as means to access their Wizard Hall without detection.

  “That was easier than I expected,” Spencer said as he
led Sturtagaard down the hallway.

  Annie followed with Louis, though the nonmagical needed to be tugged along. His right shoe scraped against the floor as though he knew it was time to pay for his sins.

  Though the hallway was nondescript, with a gray cement floor and matching walls, the entrance to the French Wizard Hall was made up of impressive ten-foot-tall wooden doors. Much like those to the library in the American Wizard Hall, these doors were also hand carved with pictures and scenes, but these were of French magical history: battles fought, demons that roamed the countryside. Annie did a double take when she saw one carving of a girl that seemed to resemble her. Like in the carving in America, the girl held down a demon with her foot while holding a sword in the air.

  “Ah… I think it’s the same door maker who made our library doors. Look at this,” Annie said as she pointed to the girl.

  “That looks like the same scene. Maybe it was made by the same craftsman,” Spencer agreed. “You ready to deal with them?”

  Annie grimaced. Though Milo hadn’t relayed everything to her regarding his phone conversation with the French Wizard Guard, he implied that his conversation to them involved more of the same accusations that were leveled against her by the Amborix Wizard Guard. Milo had explicitly warned her to be careful, be aware of her surroundings, and trust no one. Annie knew yet another Wizard Guard unit was not eager to deal with the vampire princess who had died eight months ago.

  I’m over dealing with her too.

  “I’ll be fine,” Annie said as she placed her hand up against an ancient wooden box to the right of the door and cast a spell. The doors squeaked open, slowly revealing a small reception room with a security desk manned by a woman named Delphine, as per the name tag on her left lapel of her smart business suit. Above her name was a small silver pin, etched with what Annie recognized as the Wizard Stamp, a triangle with a wand at the center. The letters FWG were engraved on each side of the shape.

  That doesn’t draw attention?

  Delphine smiled coolly as Annie and Spencer removed their Wizard Guard identification, three-and-a-half-inch-wide silver medallions that were etched with the title Wizard Guard across the top and Chicago, U.S. at the bottom. Both Annie and Spencer had five gems encased in a row at the center signifying they were both Level Five wizard guards. The other side of their identification folder, encased in plastic, included their personal identification: name, age, date of birth, Wizard Hall home location, and picture.

  Delphine took their badges and scrutinized their authenticity. She handed back Spencer’s quickly and looked from Annie’s badge, back to her face.

  “You’re a Level Five?” Delphine asked coolly.

  “Yes. If you have concerns about the authenticity, please feel free to contact the U.S. Wizard Hall. They’ll verify,” Annie said.

  Delphine glanced one more time at Annie’s badge before handing it back. “You seem awfully young to be a Level Five, yes?”

  Though Annie was four years younger than Spencer, she’d had a bit of a head start on her Wizard Guard training. Both she and Cham began their studies while still at Windmere School of Wizardry in their senior year, a feat only accomplished by the two of them. Added to that, their scores on their entrance exam to the guard had been high, plus Annie had studied for a grueling potion master’s exam and passed with one of the highest scores ever. All those achievements rendered her a Level Five. Most wizard guards at the age of 23 would hover near a Level Three and conclude their career at Level Ten.

  Trying to appear humble, Annie packed her identification inside her jacket and watched Delphine observe their cohorts.

  “And your companions?” Her thick French accent reverberated off of the hard surfaces of the reception room.

  “This is the vampire Sturtagaard, and this is Louis Van Alton. As of yesterday, he was the nonmagical paramour of Princess Amelie of Amborix.”

  Delphine’s eyes raised in surprise. Annie would have guessed it had nothing to do with the vampire or the nonmagical; rather, it had everything to do with the fact that the princess hadn’t died but was turned.

  “I see. That is a problem. Of course.” She offered a smile as she summoned an item from the drawer in her desk. Walking to Sturtagaard, he took a step back.

  “What’s that?” he asked staring at the metal collar she held.

  “You do not think we would let the Sturtagaard into our Wizard Hall without protection, do you?”

  “This wasn’t part of the deal,” he sneered.

  “Their house, their rules,” Annie said and placed a stake at the base of his heart.

  Sturtagaard grimaced as Delphine placed a metal collar around his neck. It was thick and heavy. If he neared a human and tried to suck or bite, the metal would hinder his ability to do so. Any time this collar touched human skin, it would send electric shocks to the vampire. Delphine clicked the collar tightly in place.

  “Now you.” She changed her tone, making it slightly flirtatious as she checked the simple cuffs around Louis’s wrists. They were still tight and constricted his movements.

  “I assume he knew Princess Amelie was a vampire, yes?” She looked at Annie for conformation.

  “Yes. He’s known since she first sought him out,” Annie replied sheepishly. Though she knew asking for assistance was a necessity, she was embarrassed by having to do so. Her cheeks burned red as if ashamed by the need.

  “Okay, they are secure. Follow me.”

  As with most magical security locks, Delphine placed her hand against the hole in the lock and shot a spell inside. The doors slid open revealing a large work area, filled with rows and rows of cubicles. The outer edges of the massive room contained offices with closed doors.

  Though this building resided underground, it looked much like the inside of their Wizard Hall, with neatly ordered cubicles and the sounds of computers, fax machines, and printers whirling and buzzing. And just like Wizard Hall America, papers and objects flew through the air as they were summoned or repelled as necessary.

  Annie and Spencer pushed Sturtagaard and Louis through the maze of cubicles following Delphine toward the Wizard Guard department. The cubicles were stuffed full of magical objects and ancient tomes; shelves were piled high with herbs, crystals, and cauldrons. Delphine stopped at a large cubicle that reminded Annie of Milo’s office back home. It was so packed with piles of stuff and more stuff, leaving very little room to move.

  The security officer knocked on the wall that held a name plate for Fabien Arnoult. A tall man with sandy brown hair and ice blue eyes glanced up at Delphine and flashed a bright white smile.

  “Excuse me, Fabien. Here are the Americans and their guests,” Delphine said.

  “Ah yes. Our American friends. Welcome. Please, sit. I am Fabien Arnoult, Wizard Guard manager. Thank you Delphine.”

  “If you need anything, please call. Annie, Spencer.” She nodded before heading back to her post, guarding the door.

  Annie and Spencer sat in the waiting chairs while Fabien observed their companions carefully. “And you have brought, I see, Sturtagaard. Yes, we are well familiar with the vampire. And the other, I do not know.” He smiled warmly and sat back down.

  “Louis Van Alton. He was Princess Amelie’s traveling companion until yesterday,” Annie explained.

  He raised his eye brows in response. “I see. And you are chasing the princess. Your manager, Milo Rawley, he and I discussed this in depth.” Fabien offered a wide smile as if this were a social call.

  Annie observed him in response. He was impeccably dressed. His jacket closed with a brass button, and his lapel was adorned with exact same pin that Delphine wore: small and silver, etched with the triangle and wand at the center, with FWG for French Wizard Guard engraved around the edges.

  I wonder what that pin is for?

  “Unfortunately we’ve come across the princess several times. She’s young, she’s quick, and we think she has some magical assistance to aid her escapes. That is why we are her
e. We need your help to take her down,” Annie said after pulling her attention away from the pin. And yet her eyes kept wandering back to it.

  It’s so attention grabbing.

  “Yes. That is the case with new vampires. They are slippery creatures. Often difficult to catch. May I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.” Annie recognized his accusatory gaze and knew what he’d be asking her. She summoned the article and let it rest in her lap.

  “How long have you known about Princess Amelie still being alive? I should think that would be a serious threat to us all, no?” Fabien asked. Annie slid the envelope, still in its original packaging, across several piles of books for Fabien to see. He looked at the Paris postmark. “This is from last week. Not long I see. You received it when?”

  “Four days ago,” Annie replied.

  He pulled out the French newspaper. His eyebrows rose in surprise as he noted the paper and the prominent picture with Amelie’s face circled. “I apologize,” he said thoughtfully. “She’s been right under our noses.”

  “We blame no one but ourselves. She was our responsibility. I examined her myself. And though there was a death jinx, I did check for vampirism in the normal locations—wrists, neck, knees—and observed nothing,” Annie said.

  “Who sent this to you?” He placed the article back in the envelope and handed it back to her.

  “Sturtagaard.” Spencer sneered.

  “Ah. But of course he did. Where have you seen her?” Fabien asked.

  Annie explained the events that took place in Dinan, including the explosion, Amborix and the queen of Amborix, and the three dead Van Alton family members in Platja d’Aro.

  “And are you certain the Dinan police have finished with you?”

  “No. Most certainly not. As soon as word comes out about the Van Alton murders, I’m sure they’ll be back,” Spencer said.

  Fabien opened a file, glanced at the contents inside and looked back to Annie and Spencer.

  “I appreciate you coming to us with this rather than bringing in your own people. Etiquette is so hard to find now these days,” Fabien said as if he longed for a simpler time.