by Brenda Drake
Two men wheeled in a wardrobe.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“I’m not sure.” Faith’s predator stare intimidated the two nervous men. When they had settled the new wardrobe beside the one already against the wall, they rushed off, slamming the door behind them without saying a word.
“When did you get back?”
“While you were in the shower.” Faith pulled open the doors to the wardrobe, acting like nothing happened the night before. “It’s your battle gear.”
Leather pants, metal breastplates with a slight girly curve to them, and light blue blouses hung neatly on hangers across the rod. On the top shelf sat three silver helmets, each shaped like a cat’s head. Five scabbards bedazzled with blue stones hung on one door, while two shields with tiger heads on them dangled on the other. The hilts of the swords were silver tiger heads with sapphire eyes. My heart hammering, I pulled the door wide, metal clanking against metal. Three pairs of calf-high leather boots were in the bottom of the wardrobe. All of this was real—I could no longer deny I was training to become a warrior.
I grabbed a pair of pants and wiggled into them. I squatted to see if they’d bind or bust apart.
“They’re tight but flexible, and the pockets—Love. Them.” I tossed the blouse Faith handed me onto the bed and grabbed my black, long-sleeved T-shirt instead. “I’m not wearing that. It’s not my style.”
“But it’s a uniform,” Faith protested.
“Don’t worry. It still is, just my version.” I slipped the breastplate over my head, and Faith helped me fasten the straps on the sides. Then I finished putting on the rest of the biker-knight gear. “Fits perfect. How’d they know my size?”
“Someone must’ve scanned your body with a measuring charm.” Faith examined me. “You look lethal.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“And—” Faith looked away then back at me “—thank you for saving my life, especially because you are still scared of me.” She shook her head. “That was very powerful magic, breaking a charm spell no one else could. I’d heard you need lots of training. And you don’t know how to conjure, but—”
“They’re right.” I looked at my new gear then out the window. “I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m not sure I could do that again.” From the corner of my eye, I could see her still studying my face, and I focused on her. “But I’m glad whatever I did worked.” I offered a small smile, and she returned it. The silence continued on for several moments, but it no longer felt awkward between us.
“You better go to breakfast, or you won’t get to eat before practice,” Faith finally said and headed for the bathroom. “Don’t kill anyone with that sword—yet.”
The practice field was empty. Carrig was late, so I stretched and did some jumping jacks to warm up. When he finally bounded onto the grass, his face was all twisted and sinister. He spotted me staring at him and shook away the bull-that-just-saw-red look.
A feeling of doom rushed over me. Crap. He was pissed off about something, which was not good when sparring, especially for me.
“Good to see you warming up.” He dropped a long, narrow duffle bag, and his gaze traveled over me. “Jaysus, you’re a regular warrior in that gear.” He kneeled beside the bag, pulled out two wooden swords and two small balls, and placed them on the ground. He reached his empty hand out to me. “Give me your sword.”
I handed him my scabbard and sword, and he slid them carefully into the bag. “We’ll be using practice swords and globes,” he said. “We wouldn’t want to be killing each other on the first day now, would we?”
“I’d prefer not to die.”
He ignored my joke and got to his feet, handing me one of the practice swords. This was going to be a long practice. “We’ll start at the beginning, then,” he said.
“I’m on the advanced fencing team back home. I have all the basics down.”
“Is that so? What be the basics?”
I did a quick leap forward with the dummy sword extended. “That’s a balestra and this—” I said at the same time I hopped and lunged forward “—is a balestra with a lunge.”
“Good. Show me more.”
He lunged, and I took a step back, twisting my body a quarter turn to avoid his attack.
“That is an in quartata,” I said.
“You do have good balance, I’ll give you that. We’ll skip the basics. I’d rather teach you the reality of swordplay. It’s not all balestra and in quartata. It won’t be polite like fencing. There be no protections from a sharp blade but your wit and your instincts. And wielding your sword gets a little bit trickier when you have a shield and a battle globe to cope with.”
“Okay. I’m ready. Teach me how to fight dirty.”
There was no response to my humor. He was killing me. Figuratively, and possibly literally. Something wasn’t right. He’d been nice at the coffee shop, and smiled, but not now. I’d told him to treat me like a student and not a daughter, but it seemed like there was more going on. It made me miss Pops even more.
“First off, has Professor Attwood found your battle globe?”
The odd scowl on his face surprised me. I debated asking for his blood and showing him my truth globe, but his weird reactions made me think it was better to lie—for now. “No. Why?”
“Once you have your globe, we’ll practice with it.” He got into an attack stance. “Your turn. Come at me.”
Chapter Fifteen
At my lessons later with Professor Attwood, I told him about my uneasiness with Carrig, that I had lied to him about finding my globes, and that he was too aggressive during practices. He phoned Merl to discuss my apprehensions.
“Tell him I have bruises to prove it.”
He placed his hand on the mouthpiece of the phone. “He says you shouldn’t worry. Carrig is one of our best Sentinels. He’s very trustworthy. And he’ll speak to him about taking it easier on you during practices. ” He returned his attention back to whatever Merl was saying.
I slumped in the chair. “I’m sure that will help.”
He ignored my comment and continued talking to Merl. “Right then, I’ll be by tomorrow.” He hung up the phone.
“I know, I know,” I said, seeing the frown on his face. “I should’ve stayed quiet, right?”
“Gia,” he said with a straight face. “We don’t interrupt a person when they’re on the phone with the High Wizard.”
“Sorry.”
“As far as Carrig is concerned, don’t provoke him during training.” Professor Attwood studied the cuckoo clock on the wall.
“Me provoke him? Yeah, right.” I crossed my arms. “You know, Faith said he’s never been this brutal to others he’s trained. Why is he so tough on me? I just don’t trust him.”
“We have a duty to protect those who dwell here,” he said. “It’s best to handle matters like this cautiously. We are dealing with magic, after all. Carrig is a powerful Sentinel. If he is behind the recent uprisings, which I highly doubt, and we approach him with this it could end badly. He could kill you and possibly many others before he’s stopped.”
“Well, okay, but I don’t want to be left alone with him.”
“I’ll post a Sentinel in the dining room on the off chance your concerns are warranted. The dark windows are perfect for viewing the training field without being seen from the outside.” He smiled. “Will that suffice?”
“I guess.”
“Splendid. In addition to your truth globe, you created a second one this morning that released a charm. I want you to work on mastering that globe today after our magic lessons. I have someone coming by to instruct you.” He jotted something down in his notebook. “You impress me. In no time at all, you’ll be chanting charms like a wizard.”
I rubbed the armrest on my chair. “Can I tell you something?”
He didn’t look up, his pen scratching across the notebook page. “Yes. What is it?”
“Ever since I’ve been here, I’ve been having str
ange dreams.”
He placed his pen on the desk and scrutinized me. After I told him the details, he nodded, went to the window and stared out. “Your dreams are true, accurately historic, even. Mykyl did create the Tetrad. Each part of the Tetrad can control one of the elements—earth, air, water, and fire. It destroyed entire villages with earthquakes, hurricanes, tornadoes, and fire until the original seven wizards came together and trapped it. The spirit of a Seer must be giving you these visions—a way to prepare you for what might be ahead. You needn’t fear them.”
The past didn’t bother me, but some spirit preparing me for a future that involved this Tetrad made my stomach churn. I needed to learn everything I could. “Mykyl was after some key. The Chiavi, he said. What are they?”
“They’re seven magical keys that, combined, can unlock the Tetrad from its tungsten tomb. When Taurin discovered Mykyl wanted to use the Tetrad for his own goals, he hid them. Mykyl had Taurin killed, like you’ve seen. Taurin’s sons avenged their father’s death by ambushing Mykyl and crucifying him.
“War broke out, and the havens chose sides. France, Italy, and Ireland sided with Taurin’s sons in England, and the rest sided with Mykyl’s heirs in Russia. The two sides fought until they were at a stalemate. Taurin’s sons were killed and the whereabouts of the keys lost with them. That was until eighteen-ninety, when a professor uncovered an old chest buried in a secret corridor within the hidden gallows beneath the Vatican. He was haunted by visions of destruction caused by the Tetrad and changed the Chiavi into various items and hid them within the world libraries.”
“So,” I interrupted, “just anyone can find these keys and release that thing? How come he didn’t destroy the keys?”
“The keys were spelled and could not be destroyed,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at me then returning his gaze to the window. “But to prevent the control of the Tetrad from falling into evil hands, the wizard havens signed a peace treaty and formed an alliance. For centuries now, all the Mystik races have searched for the Chiavi. The Sentinels have fought to prevent those with evil intentions from recovering them. Because of our efforts, the Tetrad remains entombed.” He turned from the window. “Through your grandfather’s mother you are a descendent of the Seventh Wizard, Taurin. From Barnum and Athela’s child.”
I bolted upright in my chair. “Wait. What? Exactly, what does that mean?”
“I’m not certain, but—”
“We’ll sort it out, right?” I slumped again.
He chuckled. “I’ve said that before, yeah?”
“Yep.”
“Back to charms, then,” he said. “I want to quiz you on what we learned yesterday. What’s the phrase to place a lock on the door?
“Bloccare la porta.”
“To unlock it?”
That was easy. It was the one that got me in this mess with the gateway book. “Aprire la porta.”
“Very good.”
A knock came from the door.
Professor Attwood checked the antique clock on his desk. “He’s early. Enter,” he called to whoever it was.
It was as if whoever opened the door did it slowly for a dramatic effect. Arik poked his head in. My heart jumped into my throat and I straightened, uncrossing my legs, my foot connecting to the back of Professor Attwood’s desk with a loud thump. He gave me a curious look.
“Am I early?” Arik asked.
“Perfect timing, actually,” Professor Attwood said. “Gia is ready.”
Uneasiness creeping down my spine, I glanced from Arik to the professor. “For what?”
Professor Attwood stood, shaking his legs to smooth his pants. “The remainder of your lesson today will be with Arik. He’s going to help you explore that new globe. I have a meeting at the Vatican. Hopefully, I can convince them to drop the charges on the unlawful jump last week.” He leveled a gaze at Arik, then me.
Arik cocked an eyebrow. “Shall we?”
Friends don’t think of each other the way I think of you, his words from the other night played in my head. This was going to be all kinds of awkward. “Um—” I cleared my throat. “Sure.” I grabbed my hoodie from the chair and followed him out.
His gaze kept shifting my way as we walked next to each other down the corridor to a set of stairs. No guy had a right to look that gorgeous. It was distracting. A leather jacket flung over his shoulder, he wore jeans and a tight blue t-shirt that hugged him as if made to fit his compact body perfectly.
“Why aren’t we in uniform?” I asked. “Aren’t you giving me a lesson?”
“We don’t need our gear. We’ll just be working on that new globe of yours.”
Each time we passed under a burning sconce on the wall, his chocolaty eyes changed to the color of the sap that dripped down Nana’s large oak on a sunlit day. I shuddered under his scrutinizing stare as a leaf barely hanging onto that oak in the last days of fall, my stomach full of fireflies.
We ended up in the basement. It wasn’t your normal basement. It was large with a high ceiling, decked out with overstuffed chairs, gaming tables, and pinball machines. Across one wall was a snack stand with an espresso bar. The girl attending it had long earlobes, small horns sticking out of her wide forehead, and cinnamon colored skin. She looked bored drumming her claw-like nails on the counter.
Spotting us, the girl straightened and flashed a sharp-tooth smile. “Hi there, Arik, you want a fireball as usual?”
“No thank you, Titania. Perhaps later.”
“Okay,” she said, slumping over the counter again and watching me with suspicious eyes.
“What’s a fireball?” I asked.
“Coffee with chocolate and hot spices,” he said. “You must try it. We’ll get one on our way back. It’ll burn the hair in your nostrils.”
Gross. “I think I’ll pass.”
Arik laughed. “Suit yourself, but it is amazingly delicious once you get past the first sip.” He stopped to open a wide wooden door leading into a tunnel with smooth rocked walls. The rubber soles of my Converse squeaked against the polished cement. “Where are we going?”
“I cannot say. We are not in private.”
“What do you mean?” I glanced over my shoulder, and then strained my eyes to see farther up the tunnel. “There’s no one in here but us.”
He lowered his voice. “The walls listen.”
“You mean have ears,” I corrected. He darted a puzzled look at me, so I figured it needed clarifying. “The saying. It’s the walls have ears.”
“Does it really matter?” He returned his eyes to the dimly lit path in front of us. “Since you felt compelled to correct me, I assume my meaning was understood.”
That shut me up. Pop was always on me about chastising others. I only did it because I would want to know if I was saying something wrong. I was about to apologize, but his body language made me speechless. Shoulders squared, jaw jutted out, he bounded for the door with a scowl on his face.
I stopped.
When he realized I wasn’t beside him any longer, he spun around and took two long-legged steps to me. “What’s the matter?”
“You’re mad,” I snapped, crossing my arms.
“We don’t have time for childish antics, Gia.”
“I don’t want to spend the afternoon doing whatever it is I’m doing with you while you’re angry at me.”
He took another step forward, and I backed up against the wall. His body was so close to mine, I was aware of every rise and fall of his muscles as he breathed. “We hardly know each other, yet you seem to be an expert on who I am. I couldn’t care less about petty things. When we walk through that door, we will be in the village. I must keep my focus. To guard you from any threats.” Was he referring to how I’d corrected him just now, or to yesterday, when I’d accused him of having a relationship with Veronique? Maybe both.
“I—um…”
“Splendid, you’re finally at a loss for words,” he said, and his gaze softened. “Besides, didn’t we agree
to be friends the other night?”
Friends. Everything inside me collapsed like a house of cards. Either way, I’d obviously insulted him—whether he deserved it or not. But he’d also said he admired me and that he felt driven to protect me. The memory of his admission melted my frustration. When he looked at me, my stomach took off in a flight of wings. It’s because you like him, you dumbass. And you ruined it by opening your stupid mouth. Yet. Again.
“We did. We’re friends. Definitely friends.” Stop rambling, Gia. “So, friend, we should get to that top secret place of yours, don’t you think?” Ugh. I’m such a loser.
“Yes, we should.” He spoke so slowly, I was sure he thought I was an idiot. Mercifully, he moved out of my space, and my brain started working properly again.
At the end of the tunnel was another huge wooden door. Arik opened it by swiping a metal security-looking card into the lock. Sunshine blinded me as we stepped onto a cobblestone sidewalk.
Without a word, he led me down the roads winding through the small village. People crowded the street, carrying packages and dashing in and out of shops. It reminded me of Nana’s tiny Christmas village set, but minus the snow. Arik ducked into a bakery and approached the counter. The smells were so incredible my stomach rumbled.
He ordered biscuits, chocolate pastries, and two bottles of water. After he paid, we went through the kitchen, out the back door, and down a small alleyway. An awful sour smell came from the many overflowing trashcans. We came out of the alley and into a thick forest.
After trailing him through the dense trees for several minutes, I asked, “How much farther is it?”
“We’re here.” He stopped at a vine-covered wall about eight feet tall and climbed the vines to the top. “Come on. It’s no trouble at all.”
I scaled the wall, losing my footing halfway down on the other side. I landed hard on my ass, pain stabbing my tailbone. “Shit.” I sat there, stunned, until the pain subsided.
“You all right?” The concern on Arik’s face was cute. Who was I kidding? Every expression of his was hot.