Fire Games: A Young Adult Fantasy (Arcturus Academy Book 3)

by A. L. Knorr

  “This should only take fifteen minutes.” A chair squeaked against the hardwood as the lawyer spoke.

  “The screen is down,” Dr. Price said, confirming her presence. “That’s odd. Shall I tuck it away? They get so dusty.”

  “I’ll do it afterward,” replied Basil. “Must be a glitch.”

  I smiled. This was going to be the most fun I’d had all year. Clutching my phone in my hand, I woke it up and scrolled through my contacts. I knew the committee could see what I was doing on the big screen.

  There was a moment of shocked silence, then Babs’ voice rose. “Where is that coming from?”

  She sounded mildly alarmed but she’d not yet clued in to the fact this was no accident.

  I dialed the Nygaard’s number.

  The sound of my cell phone’s call echoed through the speakers.

  “What is happening?” Mr. Bunting asked. “Who is making a call? And why can we hear it?”

  “Must be a bug,” replied Basil, sounding bemused but faintly smug.

  “How strange,” said Guzelköy in a melodramatic tone of wonderment. He was uber intelligent and an excellent game-designer, but sucked as an actor.

  “Hello?” Mrs. Nygaard’s warm voice filled the lecture hall, pouring through the speaker in crystal clear quality. Good ol’ Basil and his love of technology.

  “Hello, Mrs. Nygaard,” I said into the phone. “It’s Eira’s friend, Saxony. Is Eira there?”

  My voice, delayed by microseconds, thundered through the speakers with only a little crackle of static.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Babs screamed. “This is a very sick joke. This is not funny. Basil—”

  “One moment, Saxony,” said Mrs. Nygaard. “She’s in the back yard. Are you alright? I thought I heard someone screaming. Was that on your end, or is it someone outside here? I’m afraid I can’t tell.”

  “Sorry about that,” I said through my grin. “It’s from my side. Just a hysterical woman on the street.”

  Babs’ shrill voice made me wince. “I demand to be told what—”

  I got to my feet, cell phone against my ear. As I pulled my phone away and switched over to video call, I waved down at Basil. He waved back. The rest of the committee saw the wave and looked up toward the AV booth.

  All eyes on me, and Babs’ as big as saucers, I took the narrow steps down to the lecture room floor. Now the screen displayed my face on half and a circle with an N on the other half.

  “Saxony?” Eira’s voice came through the speakers.

  “Yes,” I said, now close enough to the committee to see the vein pulsing in Babs’ forehead.

  “Hang on, I’ll turn on my video,” Eira said.

  Babs’ mouth dropped open and her hands flew to her face. All the blood drained out of her complexion. She wheezed a few times, probably trying to scream.

  Eira’s doll-face appeared beside mine on the huge screen hanging at the front of the room. “Hey.”

  “I’m here with Mr. Pendleton, the game-makers, the headmasters and a few others,” I said to her. “Care to say hi?”

  “Sure.” Eira sounded cheerful. I guess she’d warmed to my idea after I’d called to fill her in on the final plan.

  Turning the phone to capture the group at the main table, they could now see themselves on half the screen. Necks craned back and forth between my phone and the big screen. Clearly this was no recording, but was happening right now. Live.

  Mr. Pendleton lifted a hand. “Hello, Ms. Nygaard. Lovely to see you looking so well.”

  Eira waved. “Hi Mr. Pendleton, nice to virtually meet you. Hi, Headmaster Chaplin.”

  Basil fluttered a hello with his fingers, smiling enigmatically.

  “Eira?!” Babs screeched, coming to her feet. Her scream started outraged, then changed halfway through, into a question. As if pretending she didn’t know Eira was alive could save her now.

  Davazlar shifted to stand beside her, his big body a wall of threat.

  “We’ll need silence for this, please,” the lawyer said, with a glance of disdain at Babs. “Sit down, Barbara.”

  Babs was frozen, except for a twitch in her cheek. Her face was waxy, her eyes so round I thought they might pop out of her head. For a second I was worried she might faint and miss the show. That would be no good. All this effort was for her sake.

  Davazlar guided her helpfully back into her seat.

  Mr. Bunting looked like he was trying to catch as many flies as possible in his mouth. I couldn’t tell yet if he’d been part of the plot, but the truth would make itself clear.

  Eira waved at everyone. The game-makers waved back.

  After I’d emailed Eira’s audio confession to Basil while I was on the train home the previous evening, he had wasted no time bringing everyone but Babs and Mr. Bunting into the loop. Once I’d arrived back at the academy, we’d closed ourselves in Basil’s office and got Mr. Pendleton on the phone to work out how to approach the situation. The live video call had been my idea. While Eira had taken some convincing from Basil, she’d agreed to go along with it on the understanding that she’d be admitted into Arcturus Academy for the upcoming school year. She would never have to be face-to-face with Babs again. She understood there would be consequences for her part in the deception, but Basil also promised that Babs would be issued a restraining order, which would be enforced by the agency. She wouldn’t be permitted to come within five-hundred meters of Eira.

  “Please state your name for the record,” Mr. Pendleton said, taking on a professional air.

  “Eira Nygaard. People also call me The Doll.” She brushed a lock of wheat-blond hair away from her face.

  “And, why do they call you that?”

  She cleared her throat. “I’m half cryohäxa, a supernatural group with control over sub-zero temperatures, winter conditions, snow, ice, that sort of thing. It’s how I got past the tilting game-board. I froze the casters in place and just walked across it. Same with the pool of water. Basically, I’m the opposite of a fire mage, my other half. Cryohäxa evolved from the Valkyrie, a species now believed to be extinct. But a tiny portion of our population have a rare gene, a kind of atavism.”

  “Can you define atavism for us?” Mr. Pendleton had his specs perched on the end of his nose, his pen hovered over his notebook.

  “Sure. It’s when an ancestral genetic trait reappears after having been thought to be permanently lost. Evolutionary changes seem to eliminate the gene, or at least its expression, but centuries later, the trait occurs in an individual member of the species. That’s me.”

  “And what is this ancestral trait?”

  “The ability to become inanimate for a period of time.”

  Babs put her face in her hands as Mr. Bunting turned his head slowly to look at her, an expression of vile disgust on his face. Either he was an exceptionally good actor, or he really hadn’t known.

  “Interesting,” said Mr. Pendleton. “How is such a trait useful?”

  Eira gave a kind of ironic chuckle. “It’s mostly not useful, that’s why it evolved out of our species. But it was useful to the Valkyrie. According to legend, one of their jobs was to visit battlegrounds and escort the souls of the dead to Valhalla. Many times, the battles were not over, and they had to wait for the dying to pass away. Often it was dangerous, especially since enemy armies would attempt to keep the dead from making it to Valhalla. To combat this, the Valkyrie could shapeshift. They could appear as a soldier, and shift into an apparent death-state. No pulse. No breath. No circulation. Nothing. I haven’t got the shapeshifting gene, but when I become “The Doll” no technology we have today will tell you I’m alive.” She put up a hand. “To be honest, I’ve never really valued the trick. Babs never valued it either until these games came up.”

  “So it was Babs idea to use your ability?”

  Eira nodded. “I don’t think she thought we’d have to use it, to be honest. She’s got some very strong students, much stronger than me. But when I kep
t making it to the next round, we realized it might end up being me and Saxony in the final, and the likelihood of me winning was low.”

  “Even with your hybrid abilities?”

  “Even with them. Saxony is Burned. We had two students who were also Burned. Liu and Serenamen, but when they were eliminated, it was down to me.”

  “You are not Burned?”

  “I can’t Burn. My hybrid nature means my fire can’t get hot enough to do the job. It also hampers me from moving smoothly. You’ll have seen the difference between Saxony and me if you’ve watched the footage. I’m a hybrid, but that doesn’t mean my abilities always work synergistically. Fire and ice are kind of opposites, after all, which can make for a struggle as I try to control both at the same time.”

  “I see. So what is clear to all of us now, is that the rules were broken and that you and Babs colluded to win the games by using your ability to appear dead.”

  “We didn’t collude, exactly. She… bribed me.”

  Babs took her hands away from her face and sent Eira an ugly glare.

  Eira seemed to gulp, but braved on. “I’ve never been a favorite of hers. When she began to favor me, I liked it. I went along with it. And when I saw the amazing facilities at Arcturus, I wanted us to win. She promised me a bonus and no fees next year if we won. My family isn’t particularly well off because my dad never properly prepared for retirement. It was appealing.” Eira swallowed and looked to the side for a moment, chewing her cheek. She looked at the screen again. “I am sorry. I know you’ll just say that I’m sorry that we got caught, but in actuality I am relieved. My parents didn’t raise me to lie. I’ll accept whatever punishment the committee decides.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Nygaard. Do you have anything else you want to add?”

  She shook her head then stopped. “Maybe one thing.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Babs,” she began, her fine brows pinching together.

  Babs looked at the ceiling and crossed her arms.

  “I know it doesn’t look like it, but I didn’t break your confidence. Saxony found me at home and when I knew we were caught I thought the best thing would be to own up to it.”

  I shook my head, fighting the urge to snarl. Eira didn’t owe Babs anything, but relationships were complicated, and if Eira had spent the last year looking up to Babs and wanting her approval, it wouldn’t be a habit that would break overnight.

  Mr. Pendleton gave Babs a deadpan look, allowing her to respond if she wanted to. Babs looked away.

  “Thank you for coming forward, Ms. Nygaard. We’ll be in touch after the committee reviews your contribution to the crime.”

  Eira nodded, lifted a hand, and her side of the screen went dark. I hung up my cell and the visual of the committee disappeared as well.

  There was a moment of quiet where everyone in the room looked at Babs except for Mr. Bunting, who had his infuriated and embarrassed gaze on the table.

  Mr. Pendleton broke the silence. “The foul play involved here means a full reinstatement to Basil Chaplin as estate owner and headmaster of Arcturus Academy. Further, the consolation prize we had set aside will be stripped and returned to the estate’s coffers, leaving Barbara Chaplin no worse off than before Chaplin Senior passed away. A castigation far too light, in my opinion.” He tipped his pen toward Basil. “Do you wish to pursue this matter with the agency’s tribunal?”

  Babs eyes widened with fear but Basil shook his head.

  “I’m just relieved that it’s over.”

  Mr. Pendleton retrieved a stack of papers from his briefcase. “Yes, thanks to Ms. Cagney here.” He nodded to me but addressed Basil. “You could do worse than to consider her for an investigative position at the agency, Mr. Chaplin.”

  “I know.” Basil took the pen Mr. Pendleton held out.

  My cheeks heated with embarrassment. All I’d done was a bit of reading, then sat on a bench in Kentish Town for long enough that I got lucky.

  “The arrows will direct you where to sign,” Mr. Pendleton told Basil.

  Guzelköy and Davazlar had moved to the side and murmured between themselves while the rest of us watched as the legal ties binding Basil and his property together were tightened and finalized.

  Babs got up and headed for the door without a word to anyone. Mr. Bunting did not rise to follow her.

  “Barbara,” Davazlar called in his rumble of a voice.

  She paused but didn’t look back.

  “You are barred from working with SG for life. Firethorne’s students and graduates will be barred from entering any of our games, including the ISG, as long as you are headmaster at Firethorne Collegiate. This penalty will be grandfathered to any educational institution, agency or organization you form or are a member of. It takes effect today and it will never expire.”

  Davazlar finished and the room felt blanketed by a heavy silence. Babs lifted her nose and walked out.

  The paperwork was witnessed by Dr. Price and Mr. Bunting, who’d shaken off enough of his wrath to sign. Mr. Pendleton took the documents and excused himself, saying he’d be in touch with Basil.

  The spindly lawyer came over to me with his hand outstretched. We shook firmly.

  “Well done, Ms. Cagney. When you graduate, I happen to know a well respected law firm who may still be looking for a PI. Good ones are hard to come by, and often very hard to keep.”

  My face heated again. “I didn’t do anything but a little digging.”

  His bushy brows rose. “Yes, and isn’t that all that lies between deception and the truth? A little earnest digging?”

  He plonked his tweed fedora on the top of his silver-gray head and left the room at a brisk walk.

  Basil, Dr. Price, and the game-makers passed looks between them. Mr. Bunting nodded at Basil and left, cheeks flushing furiously.

  I suddenly remembered that I had never found out. “What’s SG?”

  “That’s our company,” Guzelköy replied. “Supernatural Game-makers.”

  “Oh. And what’s ISG?”

  The game-makers sent Basil a reproachful look at this question.

  “Really, Mr. Chaplin,” said Guzelköy, a little sulkily.

  Basil cleared his throat. “International Supernatural Games. Their version of the Olympics. Games in our society don’t get any bigger.”

  “Oh.” I blushed for the third time is as many minutes, wishing I’d known that.

  “She didn’t grow up as one of us,” Basil told Guzelköy by way of explanation.

  Guzelköy and Davazlar looked at me with renewed curiosity. Guzelköy said, “Really? Plenary endowment?”

  I nodded.

  “I should like to hear that story,” the game-maker said with a little bob of his head, “but, at some future date. Davazlar and I have work to do.”

  With that, the game-makers headed for the door.

  I watched them go, thinking. Their blacklisting of Babs from the games might not seem a harsh sentence, but if the game-makers didn’t allow any supernatural athlete from any organization Babs was even on the board of, she would be very hard pressed to be accepted anywhere. I wondered what explanation she would give to the contacts she had to date. I didn’t doubt for a moment she’d come up with some clever spin to make herself appear as the victim.

  But it wasn’t my problem. Basil had the school back, and that’s what mattered most.

  Thirty-One

  Runaway

  “Gage?” I poked my head into Gage’s room to find it empty.

  His bed was neatly made, his chair tucked into his desk. Gage was always neat, but my stomach gave a twist. There was no luggage in the closet and no toiletries visible in the bathroom. I left his room and made my way to the students’ lounge where I discovered the Prices.

  Cecily looked up from the sofa and began to applaud. “Well done, Saxony. A very satisfying ending, I must say.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled, wringing my hands. “Have you seen Gage?”

  Dr. Price glance
d at the watch on her wrist, her brow creased. “Didn’t he say goodbye to you? He took a cab to the airport just before the committee met this morning. Maybe he couldn’t find you. How long were you hiding in the AV booth?”

  The bottom dropped out of my stomach, I felt like screaming. What was with the men in my life running away from their problems? I made an effort to keep my features neutral. “A while.”

  “What a shame. I can’t believe he would leave without telling y—”

  My chin wobbled and the astute doctor didn’t miss it.

  “Oh, dear. What’s happened? Did you have a falling out?” She got up and made as though to come to me.

  I put up a hand. “I’m okay. I’ll just call him.”

  I left the lounge before their sympathy undid me, misjudging and banging my shoulder against the doorjamb on the way out. My vision was a blur as I made my way to my room where I could fall apart in privacy. My heart literally felt like it was ripping into two, shredded, bleeding chunks of muscle.

  When I got to my room, I found his note. It lay on my pillow, neatly folded. Pressing the sleeve of my cardigan into my eyes to soak up the moisture, I began to read Gage’s handwritten scrawl.

  Saxony,

  I know you’re wondering how I am. I can’t answer that question honestly because I don’t know myself. One minute I think I’m okay, the next I’m not. One thing is clear, I need time. I’m sure you do, too. I tried to find you to say goodbye, but not that hard. I think it might have made things worse. Anyway, I might be on a plane by the time you read this. I’m not saying we can’t talk. If I see you in Saltford, I’m not going to ignore you. But I am saying that maybe breaking up is for the best. We won’t know until we live with it for a while, and you obviously need to think about what you want.

  Gage

  More tears welling up to replace the old, I fumbled for my phone. Scrubbing at my eyes, I scrolled for Gage’s number and tapped the call button. I sat on the edge of my bed, fighting for control. Holding the phone to my ear, I listened to the dashes. I realized I had my other hand over my heart, as if to protect it.