by Ben Reeder
“Preposterous!” Polter bellowed. “Tools like that are too dangerous to give to a child, especially from a warlock! An eight-year-old girl is not capable of using such things responsibly! Your request is denied! The Council will decide what is to be done with your property.”
Several heads nodded in agreement, though Draeden’s remained still. His eyes narrowed and I thought I could see the faint beginnings of a smile.
“Then why do you think that I was capable of making life and death decisions when I was seven?” I demanded, catching the direction Dr. C had wanted Polter to go. “If my eight-year-old sister is too young to be trusted with a wand, then how was I supposed to be better prepared for facing a demon? Make up your mind!”
“That point is irrelevant,” Polter sneered. “You agreed to the Ordeal, and you failed miserably.”
“The Ordeal was to return the Maxilla, and fulfill the fate set by my wyrd. I did that almost an hour ago.” That made the whole chamber erupt. Liar was the kindest thing they called me. It went on for a couple of minutes, until Draeden raised his staff and slammed it down with a boom that I felt in my feet.
“Explain yourself,” he demanded.
“The wyrd on me was to find the Maxilla, which I did around eleven, and to return it, which I did just before midnight. I even managed to do it right.”
“You lie!” Polter exclaimed.
“Speak out of turn again, Andrew, and I will have you removed from these proceedings,” Draeden said. The edge of his voice was so sharp I was sure thousands of air molecules went screaming to their death just being too close his mouth. He nodded to me.
“Thank you sir. I was never supposed to return it to you. The Maxilla doesn’t belong to you. It’s a responsibility, and it chooses who guards it and who carries it, not you. It was never stolen, and Dr. Corwyn never had it. Sydney Chomsky hid it before he died, but he kept the case at his house so everyone would keep going after it instead of looking for where he hid the sword.”
“How do you know all of this?” Moon asked me.
“The night I fought Dominic King, I found the Page of Swords card and a note with the case saying that Mr. Chomsky had hidden it. I never told anyone because I thought it was safer if everyone thought someone else had it, so no one would start looking in the right direction. I think that was why the Maxilla chose me to be the Seeker. But that’s the thing; I’m just the Seeker, the Page of Swords. The Maxilla also chose a Wielder, a Knight of Swords. My wyrd wasn’t to find the Maxilla. My wyrd was to find the Wielder, and I did that a while back, I just didn’t know it.”
“With respect to the Council, Master Draeden, this tale is becoming increasingly hard to believe!” one of the Council members who’d voted with Polter before blurted.
“Have you some way of proving what you say?” Draeden asked.
“I do sir,” I said. “I need to draw the sword to do it.” Draeden nodded.
The sword slid free of the scabbard with a metallic hiss, and I held it up for a second so everyone could see it. With everyone’s eyes on it, I took it in both hands, turned it with the point down, and decided to be a little dramatic. I thrust down hard, and drove the point into the floor. There was a sound like a bass string being plucked, and it felt like the whole world rippled in its wake. I turned to face the crowd.
“No one can pull this blade free except for the Wielder and me.”
“You don’t mind if we test that, do you?” Moon said.
I shook my head. “No, I don’t. That’s exactly what I need you to do.”
“Master Clay, you voted to have this boy executed. Why don’t you try it?” Moon said.
The wizard three places from the right end of the line of Masters flinched at that, but he pulled his hood back to reveal a handsome face and salt and pepper hair. He came down and pulled his sleeves back a little and put his hands to the leather of the handle, and almost immediately snatched them away. His palms were red and a wisp of steam rose from his right hand.
“I can barely touch it,” he admitted.
I gave Draeden and Moon a glance, and they nodded. I turned and faced the one person who’d been there for almost every vision of the sword, the one person who had the birthright to carry the sword I’d just busted my ass to find. The man I’d offered the blade to twice, and who had refused it two of the three times required.
“Steve Donovan,” I said simply. He stepped out of the crowd and looked at me like I’d just passed sentence on him. “Your turn.”
His steps were slow, reluctant, as he walked toward the sword sticking up out of the floor. When he got within arm’s reach, he put his right hand out and gripped the handle. With barely an effort, he pulled it free, then he turned and handed it to me.
“You take it. I don’t want it,” he said, refusing it the third time. “This . . . it’s too big. I barely understand what I am. I can’t do this too.”
“Steve,” I said gently as I reversed the blade and offered it to him again. “This is yours to carry. It was never mine. My duty was to find it, and deliver it to you. Nothing more. You’re one of the line of Samson, a Nazarite, sworn to serve a higher purpose. A Divine Warrior. You, my friend, are the Maxilla’s Wielder. You’re what you are because you were born for this.”
I handed the Maxilla to him, and the blade blazed for a second before it faded and went back to normal. His eyes had the faraway look I imagined mine had right after I first touched the sword.
“Thrice offered, thrice refused,” I said, once again saying things I wasn’t sure how I knew to say. “You, my friend, are worthy to carry it.”
“This is all very impressive, but it comes too late,” Polter said from behind me.
“It isn’t the first time Donovan’s held the sword,” Cross rumbled from my left. “Nine Sentinels, T-Bone, and I all saw him use it to kill Etienne and disrupt the ritual he was trying to perform. I say that the sword was returned before the Equinox, Master Draeden. I will attest that the Ordeal has been completed.”
“Me, too,” T-Bone said.
“I saw Donovan use the sword as well,” Carter said from his place on the staircase.
One at a time, eight other voices backed me up, even if they didn’t all sound happy about it. I turned to face the Council and waited for their decision. I wasn’t holding my breath. Slowly, almost every member of the Council nodded. Polter’s head remained locked in place.
“Your Ordeal is completed,” Draeden said. “By your actions, you’ve proven to this Council that you are not a warlock, Chance Fortunato. The accusations against Wizard Corwyn are thus void. Though you still have much to answer for, this is not the forum for that. Now, we come to you, Mr. Donovan. The first Wielder the Maxilla has chosen in more than a century. You’ll be given the best instruction in its use we have to offer, of course, and tutored in your role.”
“With all due respect to you, sir, you can all go piss up a rope,” Steve said. That brought a lot of gasps and exclamations. He forged ahead as if they hadn’t said a word. “You people are the best the Conclave has to offer? I’d rather eat broken glass than listen to you.”
“Those are some harsh words, young man,” Moon said. “You mind explaining yourself?”
“All this week, I’ve seen Chance bust his ass to do what you people are supposed to be doing!” Steve said, his finger pointing at the Council. “He’s been looking for a girl who was kidnapped by a vampire, trying to keep his own family safe from the guy who took her, and looking for this sword. While he’s trying to do all that, he’s under this Ordeal, trying to prove himself to you so you don’t kill him! And tonight? When it came down to saving his own ass or helping someone else, he chose to save his friend and twelve other kids: kids you should have been looking for, instead of sitting on your lazy butts judging my friend. If you ask me, he shouldn’t have had to choose between kissing your collective ass to save his own life and doing the right thing. He did the right thing even when you might have killed him for it, and frankl
y, I’ll follow his example over yours any day of the week.”
In the silence that followed his rant, I looked at him with a new respect.
“I believe,” Moon said after a few moments, “that we’ve been rebuked, Master Draeden.”
“Justly so,” Draeden said as he pulled his hood back. “And while you speak from ignorance, Mr. Donovan, you raise an excellent point. No man should have to choose between the Council’s displeasure and doing the right thing. And in spite of Wizard Polter’s dismissal of his argument, your friend Chance has raised a valid argument, in that we expected more of him as a child than we had a right to. Our offer remains open to you, Mr. Donovan. We hope that you will look upon us in a better light in days to come. Both of you. Our business here is done. We open this circle.”
“Let it remain unbroken,” the crowd responded, and the Council turned and filed back through the doors behind them.
A pair of long, slender arms wrapped around me from behind, and I felt Shade’s lips against my neck. I put my right hand on her wrist and turned my head to kiss her full on the lips before I turned to wrap my arms around her and give her a serious kiss.
“That’s for standing up for me at Inferno,” I said when our lips parted.
She kissed me hard back.“That’s for saving the world tonight,” she whispered.
Not to be outdone, I kissed her again.“That’s for . . . oh, Hell with it,” I said as I found her lips again.
Someone cleared their throat, and we came up for air again and favored them with a double dose of a harsh look. Carter stood out of easy reach, impervious to our best glares. Damn mages.
“Master Draeden respectfully asks you to join him,” he said.
I left the circle of Shade’s embrace after I gave her another kiss, and followed Carter. After a series of turns, I found myself being led down a hall to a familiar looking set of doors.
Draeden sat behind a table on the raised dais in the middle of the dining room I’d first met him in. There were two place settings at the table, and he was already sipping a pale wine from one of the glasses in front of him. My jacket and both holsters were laid on another table, along with my wand and the bag of candy Lucas had given me. He gestured toward the seat across from him, and this time, I hurt too much not to take it.
“You look a bit the worse for wear since our last visit,” he commented.
“It’s been a long week,” I agreed.
A waiter appeared from behind me and filled one of the glasses in front of me with water. I reached for it as soon as he pulled the pitcher away.
“And it appears that you’ve been a busy young man. I would have asked why you didn’t tell Polter that you had Thraxus’ leave to confront Etienne, but such concessions don’t come with a guest list. Making the Sentinels chase you into Inferno was a rather inspired way around that. We were able to make the case that they were following you in the course of their duties, and Thraxus was . . . mollified. I gather that was your intent?” he asked.
I looked up from the cloth-covered basket that the waiter had just set on the table and nodded, because if I opened my mouth, I was going to drool from the smell of fresh baked bread. Draeden flipped the cloth back and took one of the rolls under it, and I grabbed one of my own.
“I thought as much,” he said as he took one of his knives and ran it across the scoop of butter in the little ceramic bowl beside the breadbasket.
I copied him, even though my stomach was demanding that I ignore the damn etiquette and get some food down my throat now.
“Of course, Andrew was rather vague about how he learned of the threat Etienne posed. Odd, too that the first call about it that I received came from Trevor. I have to wonder however, who it was who really discovered it. And how. Very few of us are well-versed in Lemurian rituals. In fact, the last copy of the Medici Codex disappeared in 1521, shortly after the death of Pope Leo the Tenth, and they were banned because they were so detailed on the G’Honn Tablets and Lemurian lore. Trevor is quite talented at undercover work, but even he doesn’t have the extensive contacts among the less savory of our ilk here in New Essex to find such information. Polter, of course, would not deign to dirty his hands with something so beneath his dignity. However, a young man who once worked for a demon, however reluctantly, might know where to go, who to talk to and who to pay for such things.”
The last bite of my roll scraped its way down a suddenly dry throat as I looked at him.
“He might,” I admitted.
“Such a young man might also be precisely what the Conclave needs in the days to come. If he were trained properly.”
He slid a thick, cream-colored envelope across the table toward me. The seal was in blue wax, and over it was a crest in blue and white. I picked it up by the corner, almost like it might bite me. The crest had a key in the upper right hand white section, and a book on the lower left hand side. At the top, a ribbon read “per virtus, libertatum” Through virtue, freedom. At the bottom, another ribbon read “Franklin Academy, Est.1787.”
“What’s this?” I asked.
“One of the privileges I enjoy as head of the High Council is the authority to grant an appointment for deserving young apprentices to attend the Franklin Academy under the Lincoln Fellowship. After what you suffered due to the Council’s lack of action, it seems that the least we can do to make amends to you is to see to your education.”
I dropped the envelope back on the table.
“You’re sending me to magick school? What about Dr. C? I’m his apprentice, and I like that just fine.”
“You will continue to be his apprentice. He will help assign your classes, and advise you when he is able to. I think you’ll find that a diploma from the Franklin Academy will do much to dispel the . . . stigma of your previous associations. To say nothing of opening doors which will allow you to make your family’s life much easier.”
I looked down at the envelope. Going to school to learn magick sounded really cool, but I also liked the way things were. I had friends here, and my family. Some place with a name like the Franklin Academy and a motto in Latin sounded like it would be somewhere in New England.
“Can I think about it?” I asked.
“Only if you’re trying to find a good reason to say yes. Let me give you one. By agreeing to attend the Franklin Academy, you will forestall disciplinary action against your mentor for concealing your apprenticeship. It will be considered that he is acting in good faith by allowing you to be tutored in a more . . . structured environment.” His smile turned frosty, and my gaze went hot.
“Some place easier to keep me under your thumb,” I challenged.
“Some might see it that way. I prefer a more mutually beneficial outlook. You get the benefit of the best magickal training in the U.S., and I am spared the unpleasantness of having to discipline a very talented wizard.”
“So, I’m saying yes whether I want to or not,” I said, my voice just edging to a growl. He’d played me like a chump by pressing all the buttons I couldn’t help but react to.
“Glad to hear it. You’ll begin during the fall semester, to make your transition a little smoother. The Academy will also want to assess your skill level before you start, so expect a visit. Now that we’ve taken care of that bit of business, I’ve ordered filet mignon. After the night you’ve had, I’m sure nothing less than a steak will do.”
He gestured for the waiter, as I slid my chair back and stood up.
“With all due respect, Master Draeden, I’d rather not. I haven’t seen my mom and my sister since Sunday,” I said. His smile was as sincere as my respect as he nodded.
“Of course, my boy. Perhaps another time. Don’t forget your letter,” he gestured to the envelope still lying on the table.
I put my jacket on and gathered my gear. I slung both gunbelts over my shoulder, then pulled one of the cinnamon candies out and popped it in my mouth before I scooped up the envelope and tucked it into my back pocket.
He waited u
ntil I was almost to the door before he spoke.
“It’s been a long time since anyone has rebuked the Council openly. It was long overdue. You and your friend Mr. Donovan opened some eyes tonight.” He sipped his wine as I turned back to face him.
“Careful, sir. You almost sound like you approve,” I told him.
“I do approve. Times are changing, Chance, and we have fallen behind them. I think that the Franklin Academy is going to benefit as much from your rather disruptive presence there as you will from its discipline and structure.”
“I’ll try not to disappoint,” I told him as I reached for the door.
“I’m sure you won’t. I’m curious though. When did you realize it was Donovan that the sword was meant for?”
“I wasn’t certain until last night, when I remembered that Steve had been there almost every time I’d had a vision of the Maxilla.”
“Well done. Oh, and Chance? Happy birthday.”
I found everyone in the parking lot, in a circle around Shade and Deek. The two of them were squared off, both with their jackets off. Shade’s bare arms were tensed, and I could see the rips and tears in her t-shirt, compared to Deek’s pristine band shirt. On the ground behind Shade was Tyler, shaking his head and slowly getting to his feet. The rest of the pack was tensed, but their eyes kept going from Shade to Tyler. I knew they wanted to help their pack brother up, but I figured it was a pride thing not to make him look weak. By the same token, it looked like Deek had just hit Tyler, and they all wanted a piece of him.
“It’s my right as a beta to slap down any lesser wolf!” he said to Shade as I reached the edge of the circle. “Especially if he’s disrespectful.”
I could see Shade was fighting her wolf down hard, and if I’d been in her shoes, they’d be awfully small on my feet, but I’d also want to rip Deek’s throat out. But then again, that was why she had me. I pulled the LeMat and stepped into the circle. The sound of the hammer clicking back might as well have been a cannon going off.
“The lesser wolf here,” I said as I took my place beside Shade, “is the beta who pissed his pants and hid at Inferno tonight.”