“That works for me. I don’t need her spying on me. Maybe she’ll find another job!” Zoe was relieved to know that Meredith wouldn’t be around in the spring. That would be one daily, even if relatively minor, stressor out of her life.
“Well,” Mark sounded cheerful. “Looks like we’re in for another interesting semester.”
“I just don’t want it to be as interesting as the last one!” Zoe laughed.
After hanging up with Mark, Zoe stared at the screen of her phone for a long moment. Taking a deep breath she hit the speed dial icon for her mother. Her mother picked up immediately.
“Hi, sweetie. Where are you? When do you think you’ll get here?”
“Hi, Mom. I haven’t left yet, but I should be there in time for dinner. Also, when I get there, I need to talk to you about Dad.”
Her mother’s voice took on a wary note. “Okay, but why? Did he try to contact you?”
“No. Why would he do that? I’ll explain when I see you. It’s best that way.”
“All right, sweetie. I’ll see you in a few hours. I love you.”
“I love you too, Mom. See you soon.”
Zoe hung up and put the phone down. She stared at the suitcase without seeing it. This could be a good Christmas or a really bad Christmas. It was a toss-up. A strong bump against her leg brought her back to the present.
“Hey. We’re hungry,” Flash added his trademark pitiful meow to the end of the sentence.
“Was that your mother?” Moose joined in the head-butting.
“Yes. I told her I wanted to talk about Dad when I get home.”
“That’s probably a good idea. One or both of them is the source of your magic. Are you going to feed us?” Moose lay down at her feet trying to look pitiful and instead came off looking like a giant gray dustball.
“I’ll feed you and then we’re loading up and heading to Mom’s,” Zoe hesitated. “I feel like I suddenly have toddlers, but please use the litterbox before we get in the car. I don’t want to stop on the way.”
Neither cat responded as they strolled toward the top of the stairs. From long experience of avoiding feline tripping hazards, Zoe waited until they both started down before she followed.
The drive to her mother’s house, the house Zoe grew up in, was uneventful. Somewhat surprisingly, neither cat had complained even once during the entire four-hour drive. Zoe couldn’t help thinking that they had something planned for later. She paused while unloading the car. Oh, God. What if they say hello to Mom? She decided not to say anything to the cats figuring they would take it as either a challenge or an invitation.
Between the cats’ stuff and her bag and work-related things, it took three trips for Zoe to unload the car. She was amazed at how much she was bringing for a four or five-day visit.
“Hi, honey! It’s so good to see you!” Her mother enveloped her in a hug.
“Hi, mom. It’s good to be home,” Zoe smiled. She bent down and took the harnesses off the cats who immediately walked over to her mother and sniffing and head-butting her calves, gave her their version of a greeting.
“Oh, hi, boys. It’s good to see you too,” her mother cooed, scratching the cats behind their ears, and getting rewarded with loud purrs and more head-butts.
After Zoe dumped her stuff in her room (now an official guest room), she sat down to what promised to be a great dinner spoiled by a necessary conversation. In anticipation of an awkward discussion ahead of her, Zoe poured herself a bit larger than usual glass of wine. If her mother noticed, she didn’t say anything.
Her mother looked up at her after a short interval. “On the phone earlier, you said you wanted to talk about your father…what about him?”
“Um…okay. I have…um…a couple of things to tell you,” Zoe tried to find a good way to phrase things without sounding accusatory. Just tell her. It’s like ripping off a bandage. Get it over with. “Okay. Um…I know how you feel about magic, but um…well…I guess you know that it actually exists?” She glanced up at her mother’s face to gauge the reaction. Her mother’s eyes widened.
“What…you…?”
Zoe took a deep breath and put down her fork.
“Yeah. Mom, I’m a mage. In fact…um…I’m an Elemental. That means…”
“Yes. I know what that means,” her mother said softly.
“You do? I thought you might, but I wasn’t sure. Why didn’t you say something? Why do you hate my research so much?” Zoe found all her questions fighting to come out all at once.
Her mother stared down at her plate and then looked up at Zoe. Tears glistened in her eyes.
“I hoped it would pass you by. I hoped you didn’t inherit it. It’s not a gift. It’s a curse!” Her voice rose.
“Mom, what do you mean?” It was Zoe’s turn to speak softly in light of her mother’s clear distress.
“Your father is a Fire mage and I’m an Air mage. I didn’t tell you because after he left, I didn’t want to deal with that part of my life. Except for you, of course.” Now, tears were running down her mother’s face.
“Oh, Mom. Even I know you can’t stop something that’s inherited,” Zoe got up and went around the table and gave her mother a hug. She knew there was more to the story than simply avoiding inherited mage power, but that was tied to her parent’s relationship and she really didn’t want to pry into that.
“Mom, I love you, but I need to know everything you can tell me about mage power, and you need to hear what happened this semester.”
Her mother gave a small nod and wiped at her eyes. Zoe sat back down and took a few more bites of food to give her mother time to compose herself.
“Well, do you want the whole story of me and your dad, or do you want to know about the family history or what? Or do you want to tell me about your semester first?” Her mother took a bite of her chicken.
Zoe thought about it. “Let me tell you about my semester, first, and then maybe you can fill in some of the gaps, okay?”
“Okay. What happened?”
Zoe launched into her story.
Acknowledgements
For my husband for his unwavering support and for not laughing out loud when I suggested that I wanted to write fiction for a living.
For Sarah A. Hoyt and Cedar Sanderson for helping me believe I can do this and for all their extremely useful essays on writing and cover design.
For the Dinerzens for all their constructive criticisms, useful information, hilarity, bad puns, sarcasm, wit, and support.
About The Author
Becky R. Jones
Becky R. Jones is a recovering academic with a Ph.D. in political science. Faculty politics lost their allure after 20 years of teaching and she decided to do something completely different. Academic Magic is her first book and the first in the series of the same name. Becky currently lives in Philadelphia with her husband and Max The Wonder Cat.
Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this book, please leave a review. Keep an eye out for Academic Magic Book 2: Night Mage coming soon! Here's a sneak peek:
Books In This Series
Academic Magic
Academic Magic
Night Mage (coming soon)
Magic Abroad (coming soon)
Night Mage
Academic Magic Book 2
Chapter One
THE COOL SPRING NIGHT settled around him and the sound of crickets became more noticeable as the noises of the city slowly quieted. Declan shifted in his hiding place. He only had to wait another hour or so and then he would be alone in the historic prison. Briefly, he wondered where Simon was. His mentor had made it clear that while this was Declan’s responsibility, he, Simon, would be watching to judge Declan’s value as a pupil. Simon was an exacting taskmaster and Declan was determined to prove himself worthy.
Shifting his vision over to the magic spectrum, Declan scanned the area near where he crouched, concealed behind a crumbling wall. He had walked into the prison trailing the last tour group. His abil
ity to go invisible had its uses. Once he’d found a good hiding place, he’d dropped the invisibility. It took energy to maintain and he didn’t want to use it up when he knew he had a possibly long night ahead of him.
As he waited, unsure of what he was potentially facing, Declan thought back over the last semester. His sophomore year at Summerfield College had been interesting to say the least. He had (thank God) been able to change majors and get away from Dr. Cruickshank (who’d turned out to be an actual witch. That explained a few things). With the encouragement of Dr. LeGrande and Dr. O’Brien he’d changed majors to political science. His new advisor was Dr. LeGrande who knew about Declan’s powers and was not at all bothered by them. In fact, Dr. LeGrande was a Fire mage and was extremely interested in learning more about Declan’s powers, which were quite different than a mage’s powers, and helping Declan do so as well. And Dr. O’Brien was an Elemental mage so that helped too.
Staring out into the darkening prison corridor, Declan smiled shyly to himself. He didn’t want to jinx anything, but he felt safe in thinking that he’d even managed to make some friends as well. Annmarie Johnson, Josh Shelford, and Geoff Bradley had become the group he hung out with all the time. They were mages too, like Dr. O’Brien and Dr. LeGrande, and were having fun helping him figure out all his powers. Other student mages who’d helped with the fight against the demon also said hi and sat next to him in classes now. It was an amazing feeling. For the first time since he’d arrived at Summerfield he felt like he belonged.
And that demon fight! At the end of the fall semester he had helped Dr. O’Brien and others defeat a demon in the middle of Philadelphia. That had been crazy! Not that he really wanted to go through that again, but just thinking about that battle gave him a shot of adrenaline.
Something flickered at the edge of his vision, bringing him back to the present. Declan slowly turned his head. A pale, filmy wisp of something drifted out of one of the cell doors. It hesitated briefly and then drifted down the corridor toward the center of the prison. Declan shivered and clasped his hands together to stop their shaking. The tour guide had said that some people believed Eastern State Penitentiary was haunted. Well, they were right. I wonder how many ghosts there are in here?
A small, almost unnoticeable noise forced him to stop worrying about ghosts and concentrate on the real reason he was here. Simon had said this was a good way to get used to using his djinn powers and the Sight in combination. Ever since Simon, Dr. Wardmaster, and Dr. O’Brien had figured out last semester that he was at least part djinn, he had worked to control his power. The fight with the demon on the winter solstice at Swann Fountain had frightened Declan, not because of the demon really, but because he had discovered that he had a great deal of power. The thought of what he could do if he really got angry had scared him.
Working with Simon and talking to his history professor, Dr. Zoe O’Brien, had helped him learn to control his power and recognize his triggers. He shook his head remembering the day he had vanished in Dr. O’Brien’s office. He had heard a voice he truly dreaded, his now former advisor, Dr. Meredith Cruickshank. His reaction had shocked Dr. O’Brien, but she had covered for him and that had won her his complete trust.
The small noise repeated itself once again pulling Declan out of his daydreaming once again. He carefully turned his head trying to locate the source or at least a direction. There. Down the corridor to the left. Away from the center of the prison. Oh, good. I didn’t really want to have to go down that way.
As he peered toward the source of the sound, he could just make out something huge and very dark moving in the gloom of the abandoned prison corridor. It almost looked like smoke was drifting off it. Are those wings?? Crap. He noticed a couple more ghosts drifting down the corridor. When they came even with the darker shadow they drifted over to the other side, avoiding it.
This had to be why Simon put him here tonight. Whatever that thing was, it had to be eliminated. It oozed evil. He wasn't sure why he was so certain it was evil, but his bones ached with the evil carried by that shadow. The fact that the ghosts didn’t like it made Declan even more nervous. Simon said it was causing a lot of problems for the staff at the historic prison. They assumed it was the crumbling walls and structure, but Simon had thought it was more than that. Thing was, Simon had not told Declan what he thought this thing was.
“Oh, no, my dear boy. I’m not giving that away! We need to test and stretch your powers as much as possible. Don’t worry, I’ll be watching and if it seems necessary, I will provide back up for you.” The small round man had made that pronouncement while bouncing on the balls of his feet as was his habit. The slight giggle at the end of his statement had not made Declan feel any more confident.
Declan squinted and saw the very large, very black, smoky-looking shadow flowing along the wall. Yep. Wings. Shit. It can fly. He had about an hour to deal with this before the people setting up a new interactive exhibit showed up.
The prison got more people to visit by doing different art exhibits inside. Simon had told him that this one was about the history of ghosts in the prison. He wondered what they would do if they knew the prison really was haunted. Declan reached for his power and made himself invisible. It took energy to maintain, but was relatively easy to actually go invisible, especially now that he knew how to do it on purpose. He moved out of his hiding place quietly following the enormous shadow. He needed to figure out what it was so that he would know what to do to stop it. He briefly considered just willing it to not exist, but he had a feeling that might backfire on him.
Declan stepped as quietly as he could and followed the huge, smoky shadow down the corridor. It wasn’t a ghost…what was it? He didn’t think it was a demon, but he didn’t know what else it could be. Smokey with wings strongly suggested a demon. He racked his brain, going back over every conversation he’d had with Simon in the afternoon leading up to this. Since Simon had called tonight a “test” Declan assumed that that meant he should know what it was, how to deal with it, and that whatever this thing was could hurt him. OK. First thing…what the heck is it? Demon? Maybe…but it doesn’t seem quite right. It doesn’t look or feel like that demon at the fountain. Shit.
He had to figure out what it was and then how to neutralize it (even though he knew it wasn’t human, he didn’t like the idea of killing anything, so he worked his way around those thoughts). He was caught up in his puzzle and barely stopped himself from walking right into the shadow. He shrank back against the wall, his heart pounding, and looked around. The shadow had stopped at an intersection. To the right, a few hundred feet down the hall was the main door to the prison/museum and Declan could hear footsteps coming from that direction. That must be the security guard making one last pass before the people installing the new interactive art exhibit arrived.
As the guard entered the intersection where the shadow waited, Declan got a glance at the man’s face. The guard’s eyes went wide with horror as he walked into the shadow. Then the shadow reached out and touched him on the top of the head.
The guard toppled over, not moving.
Declan stifled a gasp. The man’s eyes were still wide open in shock and horror and he wasn’t breathing. It just touched him! How can he be dead?! What the hell IS that thing?? And how do I kill it?
The shadow continued down the corridor toward the main entrance.
Shit! I can’t let it get out into the city! Shitshitshit! He skirted around the body of the guard and ran as quietly as he could after the thing.
He must have kicked a rock or made some sort of noise because the shadow stopped suddenly and whirled around to face him. Or at least he guessed that was its face. Remembering the guard, Declan scrambled over to the wall, trying to get out of a direct line with the thing. The invisibility trick must be working because he could see the thing’s head swaying back and forth. Its giant wings beat slowly as it searched for Declan.
Declan frantically went over everything he and Simon had talked abo
ut that day. What the hell was that thing? He was pretty sure Simon had given him some hints. His mentor liked to present information in a puzzle format so that Declan would have to piece various bits of information together to figure out the answer. Simon said that simply memorizing information was not really learning. Right now, Declan fervently wished he had a list of possible monsters and how to kill them memorized, so he could just pick one and try it.
Just then an almost off-hand comment made by Simon drifted through his mind. “Well, my boy, that’s about it. Oh, one last thing…I do believe that whatever is in the penitentiary is related to the creature that is your father.” Declan wished Simon wouldn’t always called Declan’s father “the creature that is your father.” Yes, he was a djinn, but that djinn was still his father and it somehow felt wrong to call him a “creature.”
But related to djinn? He furiously racked his brain again as the shadow slowly moved toward him, its head swaying back and forth seeming to sniff the air, seeking the source of the disturbance.
An ifrit! Was that it? He remembered that they were a type of djinn and they lived in ruins…the penitentiary certainly counted as a ruin even if they were trying to restore parts of it. Ifrits had almost limitless power. Shit. Wait. They were djinns so, in theory at least, he could kill it with magic. Which was a good thing since he didn’t have any physical weapons with him. Maybe I should at least start carrying a pocket-knife. Or a flame thrower.
He shifted his weight away from the wall and the ifrit’s head immediately swung in his direction and it started towards him. Declan took a deep breath and waited until it could almost touch him. There was no sound in the prison. Even the crickets had stopped chirping. It reached for him with frightening speed and Declan threw himself to the floor to avoid that killing touch.
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