Hawthorn Academy: Year Three

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Hawthorn Academy: Year Three Page 35

by D. R. Perry


  I moved forward again, wondering whether Mr. Fairbanks would put up a shield at the last minute. He only stood there, an unfathomably mild grin on his face.

  "Move!" Dorian called while flinging ice.

  It knocked Pharmaka aside as she was about to strike.

  No matter what Lavinia threw at him, she couldn't bring Xan down. I'd lost count long ago of the orbs he'd deflected unarmed. Maybe he had an antidote or learned a way to transform her toxin into his. However he managed, his victory seemed assured although he hadn't delivered anything but defensive blows.

  Xan made no mistakes. Not even morally in the heat of emotionally charged combat.

  His familiar took a wrong turn.

  "It's okay." Lavinia gave her son a gentle smile. "I'll buy you a new one."

  She destroyed Xan with a single hollow stomp as her heel crushed Asceco's head. He dropped to his knees on the sleety floor, head bowed and sobbing.

  Everything stopped, at least on the student side of the battle. Most of us had seen Leo give Doris to the kraken, but he'd done the same with Brand and had the excuse of paying a life debt.

  Asceco's murder was sickening.

  "I'm tired of all this drama." Abe brandished the shielding device. I felt a ward go up that separated familiars from their magi. "If any break through, I kill them. Unless you're ready to surrender."

  "Never!" Dorian stood holding an ice orb, Julia above him, channeling poison into it. "Take that, sadistic bitch!" He launched it at Lavinia. It hit her squarely in the face and knocked her to the floor with a wet smack.

  "I warned you." Abe sighed. "You should know better, Mr. Spanos."

  He didn't use magic to attack. Instead, a tiny throwing dagger whipped through the air and hit the strix in the middle of her chest. Blood dripped, pattering on the floor.

  I expected Julia to drop out of the air dead like Mercy. That didn't happen. She was a tougher older bird and had never forgotten her first magus's example. Julia refused to fall without a fight.

  None of us humans had seen Tiffany Pierce's familiar, but I'd sensed some creature helping her create that storm. Julia knew more than I did. It was an ice dragonet with scales the hue of a polar bear's fur, hidden under her voluminous bleached blonde hair.

  The dying strix controlled her descent and scratched the dragonet on the way down. It cheeped unhappily. The storm didn't disappear, but it abated somewhat, and Tiffany had to use more of her power to maintain it. Dylan kept banishing, countering the ice storm on his own.

  Dorian scooped Julia up, then rushed to Xan's side where they sat huddled together. Lee joined them. Kitty, Eston, Arick, and the twins defended them from Lavinia's renewed attacks with a series of fire orbs, whirlwinds, and sheets of water.

  "Now, Miss Morgenstern." Abe narrowed his eyes. "Let's finish this."

  I strode forward this time, unhindered. Mr. Fairbanks, despite his apparent confidence, looked tired of all of this. Maybe using the shield device had sapped his energy. Perhaps Hal wished right now. Maybe luck was on my side this time.

  It wasn't.

  Abe's familiar flew at my face and clung to my forehead. I had no time to dodge the scarab's attack. I'd encountered it before and nearly lost myself in the process. I was only slightly less prepared that time.

  I swatted at it with two conjures, solar on one side and fire on the other. I dazzled my own eyes and singed my eyebrows. Those attacks stopped short, blocked by wards.

  I tried mind, but the insect only siphoned that. I couldn't remove it mundanely. Giving the scarab more points of contact with my skin would only let it into my mind faster.

  A gentle breeze blew by my right cheek and brought with it a hint of sandalwood and the memory of a pair of deep brown limpid eyes. Hal had eyes like that.

  He's gone.

  "No." I knew that inside voice wasn't mine this time.

  Yes. That must be why you thought of him just now.

  I refused to believe it. When I left the room, Hal already had the lamp. Minutes had passed. There was no way he hadn't used it. Take that and choke on it, dissociation voice.

  "Shields win." Abe let out that chuckle again. "I captured the queen. Check."

  Behind me, my friends gasped, growled, and cried out in defiance. However, none of them besides Logan had any idea what was in store if I couldn't resist Abe and his scarab a second time.

  Whatever gambit Hal had going with the lamp and his wishes, we needed it before I dissociated again and ended this battle in the most logical and definitive way possible.

  Friends, foes. There's no difference. Burn them all.

  That awful voice told me exactly what that was before beginning the work of separating my mind from my body. Of course, Abe would use his shield device to save his allies, their children, and whichever of my friends he thought he could break. The rest would all be victims, and me a scapegoat like every other extramagus bogeyman.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Face Your Death

  Hal

  I'd spent the last three years trying not to waste time but running out of it anyway. I should have known that if anyone could buy me more, it'd be Aliyah Morgenstern. I refused to squander her kindness.

  I was out of more than time now. My energy was almost gone.

  Rubbing the lamp felt downright Herculean. Seconds stretched out as it glowed and spewed smoke, then revealed my grandmother who I'd only ever seen in pictures—old ones.

  "Hi, Nana Mila."

  "Queen's Grace, Harold!" Her eyes reddened. "In my worst nightmares, I never imagined you in this state."

  At first, this confused me. I remembered in time how shocking it must have seemed, seeing someone my age at death's door.

  "I'd like my wishes now if you don't mind skipping formalities." I tried to grin. The look on Faith's face told me I'd managed a grimace. "I know the rules."

  "Wish on, child."

  "I wish for an audience with the Sidhe Queen."

  "Done."

  Faith blew me a kiss. The wooden walls and tiled floor of the infirmary melted like wax under a lit wick on fast-forward. I found myself in a long hallway paved in glittering dun stone. At the end stood a set of double doors, tall and gilt.

  "Come along."

  Grandma Mila took my hand and a step forward. Inwardly, I balked because my brain told me there was no way I'd make it even halfway to the doors.

  My body had other ideas.

  I strode forward, pacing right along with her. I hadn't had a day this good since I helped Aliyah shop for Logan's birthday. It made sense. I was in the Under, where I could breathe in the magic my body needed. So we made it to the door in a few moments, where my grandmother spoke to one of the guards.

  "Announce us, please."

  The guard hefted her staff and used it to hammer the door three times. It opened, and she turned her back on us to step through before speaking in a booming voice.

  "Duchess Gamila Haddad-Hawkins, lamp-bound, accompanied by her grandson Harold Hawkins, lamp-holder and magus of space."

  "Enter and state your business," a voice replied.

  The guard stepped aside to reveal a room built of the same glittering stone but ornately carved. A long red carpet ran between a row of columns, which led to a dais. Atop it sat a throne flanked by knights in alabaster armor, one with a red helmet and the other blue.

  The Queen herself had amber-hued hair that hung in thick waves over her shoulders almost to her waist. A crown graced her head, golden and studded with diamond, topaz, and garnet. Her robes were long, sheer fabric with a coppery metallic sheen overlaying deep sunset orange.

  We paced forward until we stepped between two columns, adorned with sconces lit by solar magic. Nana Mila bowed, holding my hand tightly so I had to follow suit. I would have anyway, but she barely knew me. For all she knew I might have had horrid manners.

  That made me more determined to let her know who I was because I still wasn't sure whether my plan would work. I kept my head bowed
as I made my address.

  "Your Majesty, thank you for allowing me the gift of your valuable time. I seek your permission before making my second and third wishes." I dared a glance up.

  "Permission?" The Queen tilted her head. "Interesting. Why?"

  "It requires your intervention, Majesty. Becoming a djinn."

  "To what purpose? Power? Glory? Of all the people in Faerie, djinn have the least potential for these. Theirs is a life of service and sacrifice."

  "I'm dying, Majesty, of a magical malady. My illness is writ in the very fiber of my being, and I already know wishes can't erase it. But my lineage is indelible too. It's the only way to save my life."

  "Technically, you are correct. However, granting your request will not cure you in the mundane realm. You'll still suffer many of its hardships, although not fatally."

  "I understand, Your Majesty." I nodded. "I can live with that."

  "If I say yes, what will you do?"

  "Pledge fealty to Your Majesty, and take my grandmother's place in her lamp after my third wish, so it continues in your service."

  "That third wish, what will it be?"

  "Justice. Too many I love suffer without it."

  "My permission is yours. But know this, young magus. Bestowing a new mantle is a tandem effort between myself and His Majesty, and more from Duchess Gamila. If consent is important to you, his is as significant as mine."

  I stood at the brink of despair. Somewhere in the fog of magic deprivation, I'd miscalculated.

  My friends back in the mundane world were either already engaged in combat with senior magi or about to be. They needed one of my wishes to survive as surely as I did. I'd come to terms with death before holding the lamp was certain, but only as long as they continued.

  Now, caught between saving my expiring life and all of theirs, the choice was clear.

  "I will face my fate and do without to save my wife, my father, and my friends. Nana, I w—"

  "His Majesty, King of Wood and Wild, Master of the Hunt, Husband and Peer to the Sun Court's Glory."

  "Enter, Baelgreth." The Queen rose.

  The air to my left stirred like an autumn breath, the one that takes the last leaf off the oldest oak in the forest at the fall of the year.

  I studied the figure standing beside the queen. They were of a height, but night and day in most other respects. He wore a long black cloak with tattered edges over forest green traveling clothes. While the Queen went unarmed, he was girt with dagger and rapier.

  "My love." He took her hands and kissed each of them in turn. "Forgive my hasty entrance. I couldn't ignore these strands of fate." He tilted his head at me.

  "As I suspected. I agree. The fiber of his being also calls to me."

  "Empathy. Forgiveness." The King grinned.

  "Honor. Above all, bravery." The Queen nodded. "Perhaps this...collaboration...is practice for something else."

  "Shall we, then?" He raised an eyebrow.

  "We consent, young magus. Only one more thing needs doing to complete this magic."

  "Go on, Harold. Make your wish."

  "I wish to be a djinn, like my grandmother before me."

  Nana Mila glowed. It seemed to come from within, as though every cell in her body became luminescent. Myriad colors, a shrouded rainbow, flowed out of her and toward the Monarchs on the dais. They each held out a hand, collecting the light between them. As it gathered, they each added to it, the King's contribution in swirls of green, blue, and purple and the Queen's red, orange, and yellow.

  It reminded me of Bishop's Row, what I imagined would happen if everyone combined their orbs. Except the energy between them grew impossibly large, which transcended its appearance. Visually, it fit in their hands, but I sensed that its borders exceeded the walls of the throne room.

  The Queen smiled down at me. Then, with the King, she aimed that massive orb at me. It didn't fly so much as roll forward.

  All my hair stood on end, even the stubble on my head, which I'd shaved in November because I thought it'd be easier to manage. It hadn't grown back. A breath later, I felt it lifting and itching as it returned.

  My feet left the stone-covered carpet as light, magic, and heat encased me. I remembered a lab experiment, one of Filberto Luciano's more daring ones done with a crucible. Maybe I understood it better now, from an unexpected perspective. I hung suspended in one, both my state and composition changing irrevocably.

  I opened my mouth, unsure why until light and sound poured from it. I'd always been tone-deaf, but for the only time in my life, I sang perfectly. It made sense. I was in the middle of a miracle, after all.

  "You deserve one, after making so many."

  The Queen's voice didn't startle me. Her words did. Until scenes from my life paraded through my consciousness.

  Grandpa Hiram on house arrest, eyes lighting up when I visited.

  Dad in the headmaster's office, doubting his new job until I said I believed in him.

  Showing Lee around Salem the day he arrived on campus.

  Faith in the cafeteria, taking my hand for the first time.

  Keeping Aliyah's secret.

  Grace agreeing to beat me at Scrabble during that rocky first-year winter break.

  Inventing devices with Logan.

  Riding the train to Boston after Dylan's breakup, just to get him out of town.

  Sitting with Darren after his familiar was poisoned.

  Walking a nervous Eston to cheer squad tryouts.

  Meeting Dorian in the bathroom to practice his stand-up routine.

  Decorating the classroom door for Professor Luciano.

  Proofreading Kitty's numerous college entrance essays.

  Practicing with the Overtons in a mirror so we'd stop calling Xan by his old name.

  Forgiving my mother when she promised to do better.

  "And now, we empower you to make one more." My song, the memories, and the magic ended on the Queen's last word.

  My feet came to rest on the floor. My Hawthorn Academy infirmary slippers were gone, replaced by my favorite brown loafers. I blinked, realizing that somehow the convalescent clothing I'd been stuck wearing over the last few months was replaced by the khakis, chambray button-down, bow-tie, and blazer I favored. Plus, they were comfortable again.

  "Your Majesty." I took a knee, without any worry about whether I'd be able to stand later. "I pledge myself to your service, in fealty, and dedicate my service to my wife, Faith Fairbanks-Hawkins."

  "Then you will remain in the Under, Harold Hawkins, doing the work of my Court as squire to Sir Frederick. Your wife will have leave to visit once your duties are established. Your term endures for one year and one day, with one exception—the moment it takes to retrieve the lamp currently occupied by your grandmother. You will transport it here immediately after," the Queen said. "You may rise and make your final wish."

  "Nana, I want justice. For my family, friends, and those who would do them harm."

  "As you wish."

  The Queen snapped her fingers, and a portal opened. Through it, I saw the infirmary waiting room, much of it in ruins, the battle still raging. My grandmother held her hands out, brow furrowed and beaded with effort. Justice seemed to be a taller order than I'd expected.

  When she lowered her hands, I felt myself move involuntarily through space, drawn into the portal, past the magi locked in combat, over Aliyah and Mr. Fairbanks as he uttered the word check.

  I wanted to stop and help but couldn't. The lamp pulled me inexorably on through the door.

  On the edge of the bed I'd almost died in, Faith's eyes widened. I saw myself reflected in them, not as I'd appeared in the Under, but as a plume of golden smoke flowing toward the lamp cradled in her arms. I took form.

  "It worked." Faith held the lamp out to me. "Or it will once you take her place. I love you."

  I leaned forward, bending to kiss her.

  "I love you too. Go out now and help Aliyah. She's in serious trouble. See you soon."
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  The moment I touched the polished brass, I vanished with it and Nin, back to the Under.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Aliyah

  "Checkmate, Dad." Faith stood in the doorway alone, hands empty. "Get your hooks off my friend."

  "You're one of us, Faith. A Fairbanks. You can't erase that."

  "That's Hawkins now. I'm erasing your victory, not myself."

  I felt the hum of emotion from her, how it focused on her father with laser precision. Faith hadn't been present to fight her sister last year, but she was here now and done tolerating what her family did in the shadows.

  "Sic him, Seth."

  I never suspected Seth was the most loyal out of all our familiars, but his devotion in those moments was legendary. I knew he smelled the throwing knives up Abe's sleeve. I sensed his fear. He followed Faith's order immediately anyway, and that little dog saved my soul.

  Sha are the size of chihuahuas, but they pounce like panthers. Wards might have protected the scarab from my magic, but they did nothing against the frenzy of its natural predator. Especially one bonded to a magus as righteously angry as Faith at that moment.

  Seth held the scarab in his teeth without biting down. I felt indignation and fear coming off the insect and joy from Seth. This was what he was made for. He ran under a chair on the other side of the room, separating the critter from its magus. And from me.

  That waking limb feeling came over me for the second time. I cried again, but I didn't let it stop me from reaching for the shield device still in Abe's hand. I winced and looked down to find my wrist impaled with one of his blades.

  "Don't bring a fist to a knife fight."

  Behind him, Grace made a zipping motion over her lips. She touched the device, and it vanished a second before she did.

  "Don't stab fire magi." I winced, tears still streaming from my eyes as I conjured flames to stop the bleeding. "What did you say? We've already won. Be good parents and let us through?"

  "The next one goes in your throat." He snorted.

  "I'm an extramagus. You think I can’t stop you?" I glanced at his seemingly empty hand and hoped the pain hid my bluff. "By the way, your shield's gone."

 

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