Blackwood: The Dynasty Series Book One

by Marian Gray

  I mimicked his action. But as my arm held steady in the air, my memory abandoned me. “I think that’s all I know.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, I know more spells just none that are combative. If you want, I’m not opposed to forcing you to speak another language.”

  His arms crossed along his chest. “That won’t be necessary.” My heart sank at the tone of his voice. The dissatisfaction was distinct. “Well, you’ve got some of the basic spells down, but—”

  “I know,” I stopped him. “I know I’m not good enough, but it’s not for a lack of desire or skill or talent just knowledge.”

  His brow lifted. “I’m not sure that knowledge is the only weakness here. To be honest, Kim, the spells weren’t strong.”

  I mustered my confidence. “You saw me block that broken spell on the field the other day.” I still had yet to learn what a broken spell was. “That’s why you invited me here. We both know I possess the power. I don’t care what the Emporium believes about my abilities, I know what I feel. Every time I lift my wand this charge builds inside of me ready to just be unleashed. My problem is that I don’t know how to get it all out, but I am certain that I am capable of wielding the more advanced spells. I have what it takes but nobody to show me how to do it.”

  Elijah stared at me for an uncomfortable moment before his lips moved. “Why do you want to be on this team? Tell me why you deserve a spot over someone who is more capable?”

  They were questions I was still trying to answer for myself, but I offered the first explanation that came to mind. “I want to be on this team, because I need to belong to something and holmgang is that something. It’s given purpose and drive to the majority of my family, and I believe it will give me the same things.” I took a breath to calm the rapid beat of my heart. “And I think the spot should go to me, because we both know my potential is far greater than whatever someone at this school is capable of.”

  “Spoken like a true Blackwood.” He nodded. “I’m inclined to believe you and see some truth in your argument, but I have my doubts about your convictions. How do I know you’ll work hard enough this semester in order to be prepared for the next when the season begins? Also, your potential may be great, but that’s all it is—potential, not solidified skill.”

  “I have so much more to lose than any other student here should I fail. That’s how I know I’ll be prepared.” I fought more than I should have, but the longer I pressed forward, the more my intuition applauded my efforts. “My entire family’s reputation is on the line—including my own. They already think I’m a fake, and if I don’t perform well, then I’ll just prove them right and live the rest of my life with that hanging above me.”

  “I’ve never been one to dismiss my instincts, but if I were to choose you, I’d want a bigger commitment.”

  I would do almost anything. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Tutoring—private lessons.”

  “Done.” It was a simple request.

  "All right." He sighed and dropped his head. “I wish this had gone better than it did.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Look at him.” Sara rolled her eyes. “He has this huge smile on his face as though he’s done something worthy enough to stand amongst you all.”

  I glanced at the copy of the Emporium that laid before Sara. Cecil Greaves wasn’t doing anything he didn’t normally do. “It is what it is.”

  “I can’t believe you agreed to take this photo. You should have insisted that he leave and made a big show of it.”

  “Why? So the Emporium could do a quick write up on how much of a rude snob I am?” I shook my head. “Standing there with a huge smile on my face was the best option in this scenario. And honestly Greaves wasn’t the one that bugged me in this photo.”

  “No?” Her attention raised from the paper and eyes centered on me, begging for me to go on.

  It should have been obvious. “Lili Banach.”

  “Oh.” Sara’s posture dropped, disappointed. But she recomposed herself within seconds. “Well, Lili is just playing the game.” Her tone was nonchalant. “Given the history, I think she’s being rather civil with you. These family rivalries have a tendency to be quite vicious.”

  I held my tongue. I couldn’t believe Sara just dismissed my feelings because of some silly, dated tradition. “Perhaps you should read more Shakespeare and less Emporium.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing, I guess.” I shrugged.

  “All right?” Her brow scrunched into several lines. “Anyway, back to my question. Why did you take this picture with Cecil Greaves?”

  “I didn’t have a choice.” There were too many people watching. “And it doesn’t harm me to have a picture taken with him. I don’t know if you noticed, but there are four other people standing in that picture too.”

  “Kim, how can you be so forgiving? He’s the one that sold you to the Emporium. He’s the one quoted in the very first article saying negative things about you. He’s not a friend. He’s an enemy.”

  “And yet you still pushed me to go a mixer that he was hosting. Why?”

  “He wasn’t hosting it. The university was hosting it. He was just running it,” she clarified before continuing, “And I thought you should go, because it sounded exciting. You keep yourself locked in your dorm, day and night studying—you needed to get out and do something social. I thought this was the answer.” A grin crept across her mouth. “And judging by this picture, it doesn’t look like it was wasted time. You’re standing right in front of Elijah Harlow, and his hand is resting on your shoulder.”

  “We were just posing for a picture.”

  “Ryan doesn’t have his hand on Lili.”

  The observation made my body tingle with heat. “Well, Eli probably did that because he knows me. Ryan doesn’t know Lili.”

  A burst of chatter rose in the dining hall. Some students stood from their seats, staring at the figure that had just entered the old cathedral dining hall.

  “It’s the board dresser,” Sara announced. “I bet she has the results from the holmgang tryouts.”

  The board dresser pressed against the growing ant hill of students, tunneling her way to large square slab of wood that floated on one side of the hall. Every week she changed and altered the papers on the board, posting announcements, information, or anything else deemed pertinent for the entire student body to know. When she reached the board, her wand lifted and numerous papers flew from her hand. They hovered before the board, repositioning themselves so that they were evenly spaced and aligned. The tip of her wand tapped the board, and the sheets adhered to the timber. Without a word, she turned to leave, allowing the swarm of students to crowd around.

  “Who do you think made the team? There was only one spot open this year.”

  “I don’t know.” I stood from my seat.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to go see if I made the team.”

  A dumbfounded stare draped across her face. “But you didn’t tryout.”

  “I did.” I just never told anyone.

  With those two words I left her, despite her shouting something else at me. The noise level grew as I drew closer. People shoved and pushed in order to see. I weaved my way through several rows of students and squinted. My eyes ran down the first page, sprinting down the As to discover the beginning of the Bs. It didn’t take long for me to spot it. My name was listed on the second page. In solid black letters, 'Kim Blackwood, bejantine' stared back at me.

  I held my breath. Nerves churned through me. This was it.

  I peeked to the right and released the air trapped in my lung. Shock surged throughout my body. There was a letter T beside my name.

  But I had no idea what that meant. Another name below mine had TA next to it, and I spotted another with an R beside it. My eyes whipped around in search of a key.

  “Blackwood,” someone whispered my name.

 
; “It’s Kim Blackwood.” One would’ve thought by now that other students would be accustomed to seeing me out on the campus grounds.

  On the very last page, the outline of a large black square enclosed around the word 'KEY'. R stood for reserve. TA indicated a team aide. And then my eyes caught it—T.

  T was for team.

  “Is this accurate?” I heard Lili’s voice caw over the rest. “Kim Blackwood? This must be a jest on the faculty’s part.”

  My moment of pride slithered back down my throat. I stood quiet, unable to answer her.

  “No. This is the official list,” a student answered.

  “How is this possible? She didn’t even attend tryouts.” Lili’s revelation started a murmur amongst the crowd.

  My foot lifted and eased backward. I took small steps as to not arouse attention. I was nearly out of the flock when I heard the sting of a poised voice. “Proud of yourself, Blackwood?”

  I turned to face Lili. “I think it would be wrong to deny anyone the pleasure of celebrating over an accomplishment like this.”

  “I would agree with you, but you said ‘accomplishment’. This isn’t an accomplishment.” She shook her head as she took a few steps toward me. “This is partiality at its finest.”

  My jaw fell. “What exactly are you accusing me of?”

  “What? You don’t know the definition of partiality?” She ridiculed me while hundreds of eyes watched. “Let me explain it to you, since you appear to be too dense to understand. You only made the team because of your family. If you would have had any other last name, I doubt you would have even landed a spot as a team aide.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s not true, and you know it.”

  Lili made of a show of looking from one side and then to another. “I don’t hear anyone else speaking up for you.” She held out her hands. “Nobody believes you deserve that T beside your name. You’re a fraud.”

  All I heard were hurtful lies. “I’ll make sure you eat those words.” I spat before strutting out of the old cathedral.

  Chapter Twenty

  The light overhead beamed with a determined glow, appearing as warm sunshine inside a windowless room. Elijah stood center, dressed in what I assumed to be training clothes. Black, narrow harem pants fell into a pair of soft leather shoes. Across his chest he wore a simple heather gray shirt, untucked over a wide waistband. His hazel eyes glanced up to me as soon as I entered the fern-papered room.

  “Ready for the first day?” He smiled.

  The small question hit with a heavy weight. He captured my interest in more than one way, and I wasn’t sure which would swallow me first: my eagerness to absorb all he had to teach or the intimidation of being alone with him. “I hope so. I don’t know what to expect.”

  “I figured today we’d focus on the basics, so we have a solid foundation before we begin to build.”

  “Basics? I thought I learned all of those this summer.” If I couldn’t even perform the basics, then perhaps Lili was right.

  “More basic than that. You mentioned the other day that you were struggling to effectively administer your power through your wand. I believe tweaking the small things may help you.”

  “Do you have anything particular in mind?”

  “Your stance is too heavy, and you have a gentle grip.”

  A heat filled my cheeks. “I hadn’t realized my stance and grip were incorrect.” Professor Dart had taught us that there were many proper or standard ways to do these things.

  “They’re not wrong. I just think there might be a better way for you to do things. Miriam Blackwood’s grip and stance were rather iconic. Journalists often asked her about them, because they were relatively unusual, and she always answered the same: it was the only way she expelled magic to her full ability.” His weight shifted to his other foot. “I’ll confess. It really grabbed my attention when you explained that same issue the other day.”

  “Is that why you gave me the spot, then?” My pride was injured. I had wanted to make the team on my own accord, not because of heritage ties. “Because you believe I’ll turn out to be similar to my great grandmother.”

  “No.” It was a relief to hear. “I just want you to have her same strength. It doesn’t seem to be an individualistic quality amongst you all. It’s rumored your great uncle is even stronger than his mother was.”

  I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. He rarely does magic.”

  He didn’t linger on the subject. “Come closer.”

  My body tensed from the command. With each step a new surge of excitement and anxiety flew through me.

  “Take out your wand and get into stance, please.” He stopped me two feet away.

  My fingers retrieved the ancient instrument from my sleeve, and my left foot slid back away from my right.

  Eli stepped closer and crouched down. His head was inches from my lap, and my imagination blazed to life. In my mind’s eye, I saw him peel down my pants and lean in with his tongue. A shiver ran up my spine.

  His arms rested on his knees as his gaze ran over the length of each of my legs. The thud of my heart beat grew heavier the longer he maintained his silence. I sucked in a deep breath to cool my nerves, but it made the building fire inside hotter.

  “First, you place a lot of weight on your front foot. You need to shift some of that back so your weight is more centered.” Both hands fell upon either side of my hips. I could feel the warmth of his fingers through my clothing as he guided my center of gravity back a few inches, elongating my spine and straightening my neck. “Second,” he began as his grip fell away from my hips and slid down my legs to my ankles. “Your toes need to point more inward. It’ll provide better balance. How does that feel?” His hands upon me felt exhilarating. I wanted to melt in his palms.

  “It’s a bit awkward, actually.” I had to concentrate in order to get each word out. “But I think that’s because I’ve never stood like this before.”

  Elijah chuckled. It was more breathy than his usual hearty laugh. “Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of more lessons so you can practice and become more at ease with your body.” I had never been comfortable in my own skin, but I didn’t think it was obvious. “Movement while casting is a bit off-putting at first, especially since you start off stationary when learning.” His legs straightened. His head stood a number of inches above me. “Onto your grip.”

  My eyes fell to my outstretched arm and pointed wand. Each finger tightened around the ebony wood.

  Eli grinned and shook his head. “That’s not what I meant when I said you had a gentle grip. It’s not in your fingers but in your wrist. You see here how your arm to your thumb create a straight line?” His finger traced along the side of my forearm over my bony wrist and onto my thumb. Goosebumps pricked my skin. “It’s a very pretty grip, but any bump and you’ll lose your wand.” He tilted my hand upward, bending my wrist. “This is how your great grandmother held her wand. It doesn’t look as nice, but you notice how instead of your thumb resting on top of your wand, it sits at the side, keeping it clamped to your palm and other fingers? It’s a strong grip.”

  “But now my wand points at the ceiling and not at my target.”

  “Yes, that’s true.” He nodded. “But casting isn’t an exact art. When you finish the incantation and movement for an offensive spell, your wand should end at your target, but the entire spell doesn’t need to be constructed toward your target. It’s tricky at first, but you’ll catch on quick.” Our eyes locked for the briefest of moments. “Before I forget, I also wanted to give you this.” His hand slid into his back pocket and retrieved a small black book. It was the size of his palm and lacked any distinguished cover or title on the spine. “Take this and learn it.” His arm stretched out, offering the little journal to me.

  “What is it?” I opened the front flap. An array of sketches, doodles, and designs met my eyes. A wisp of a familiar scent tickled my nose. It didn’t smell like something but rather someone—Elijah.

  H
e turned the first page which dedicated the secret journal to Elijah Harlow. “It’s something I’ve had since I was a kid.” Again, he flipped another page, revealing a handwritten table of contents. Numerous weird words stared back at me. As the list tumbled downward, the handwriting improved and became uniform. “This is a book of spells that I’ve kept. I want you to study them, memorize them, and practice them on your own. To be successful in this game you don’t have to know every spell out there, but you need a ready arsenal. This is a good beginner’s set.”

  “Do you still use these spells?” I asked, turning another page. A full set of instructions, along with detailed tips and tricks for the specific spell filled the lined pages.

  “Some of them. When I first joined the team, they were all I used. Since then I’ve learned more that I prefer.” His weight shifted from one foot to another, and his eyes stared at the journal as I flipped through. “This one.” He stopped me. “My dad taught me.”

  “Did your dad play holmgang too?”

  He shook his head. “No. My dad’s not much of an athlete. He’s more comfortable with numbers, statistics, and data.” Elijah looked up to meet my stare. “He works for the Committee of Transportation.”

  “The Chamber?” My uncle’s words scanned through my head: Do not associate with family members of Chamber employees. They have been known to have loose lips. But I couldn’t imagine Elijah betraying my trust. He didn’t seem like the type, nor did he come across as the womanizer that Eddie swore he was.

  “That’s the one.”

  “But I thought you didn’t like the Chamber?”

  “Why? Because I dislike the Emporium?”

  I nodded.

  “The Chamber is a lot more than just a newspaper. Each committee is its own governing body. In the mundi world, that’s like saying you dislike the public schools, and therefore you hate public transportation as well. It doesn’t make sense even though they’re both regulated by the city.” His arms folded across his chest. “I’m curious. As a previous outsider, what do you think about the way we govern ourselves?”