by N. M. Howell
Now, she had even less time. She turned and started off at a jog, and then she remembered. The icon. She stopped mid-stride and checked her palm. Nothing. It was glowing again, warning her, but no alarm was sounded, no searing pain. It was unbelievable. She couldn’t be that lucky. She waited and waited and waited, but nothing happened.
“They must not be able to detect dragon blood,” she mused out loud. “That’s the only explanation.”
After a few more moments of nothing, she started walking again. She decided to simply see how it acted on her way to the Academy. She kept her head low and ran.
Somewhere along her route, after getting lost in the baffling streets of University Park, Andie caught a cab. It dropped her at the train station and she only just managed to board before the doors closed. While she rode the train up the mountain, almost completely vertical, she gathered her books into her bag and fixed herself.
All the trains were charmed so that the relative gravity inside the cars didn’t change. Everyone could walk around just as they would on level ground. The train seemed to reach the top faster than it had the day before, but she knew it was only her nerves. Once off the train, she was running again, almost leaping to catch the class that started in two minutes. She began to slow as she got closer to the front doors and then she looked up and took a good look at that magnificent black marble.
“You going to come in or just stare at the damn thing?” asked a voice beside her.
Andie turned to face a beautiful girl. She had a familiar smile. It took Andie a moment to realize that it was familiar because it reminded her of Raesh.
“Are you Carmen?” Andie asked. “Raesh’s cousin?”
“Guilty,” she said, looking coy as if she knew something she might or might not share. “And you’re the prodigy girl with the dad who spelled himself into an almost vegetative state.” She shook her head as if watching a kitten try to climb something it couldn’t understand was too tall.
Andie’s jaw dropped a little at Carmen’s complete tactlessness.
“Don’t feel bad, sweetie. This is the city. We’ve all got sad stories here.”
“Do you all say what you’re thinking without any concern for people’s feelings?”
“You’re upset. And you have a right to be. Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any disrespect to you or your father. I barely have the semblance of a filter. The truth is, that no one in Vall is going to play by your country rules of hospitality and patience. It just won’t fly here. But, for my part, I apologize.”
“Thanks,” Andie said, not quite sure how else to respond to the girl.
Carmen looked Andie over from head to toe, scanning with intense concentration as if she were x-raying her skeleton. Then she looked Andie right in her eyes and smiled that beautiful, warm, familiar smile. Andie could tell that even if she was uncouth, she was genuine.
“I really should get going,” Andie said. “My class is starting practically as we speak.”
“Morning classes? Black the stars, girl.”
“What?”
“Black the stars. It means something like ‘I can’t believe it.’”
“Ah. Well, I’ll have to catch up on the language, I guess,” Andie laughed. “I’ll see you around?”
“Yes, you will. I’ll be looking out for you. Which is a big deal because it’s not something I would normally do, even for a girl my cousin has a crush on.” She winked.
“He doesn’t have a crush on me,” Andie said, suddenly defensive. She looked down at her feet as she felt her face redden, knowing full well that it was true.
“Not sure why you said that or which one of us you think is stupid enough to believe it, but he most certainly does and you know it, don’t you?” Carmen asked with a grin. “Just let him down easy.”
With that she pushed Andie through the front doors.
Chapter Four
It was unreal. There wasn’t a single dream or mental picture or sprawling fantasy that could capture what Andie saw when she crossed the threshold. She never expected it to be that beautiful. The ceilings, walls, and floors were made of the same black marble as the outside. The doors and fixtures were all made of solid gold. The light—if it could be called that—almost looked like an ethereal glow bleeding from the very marble itself. It was magical. Transformative. It lit the halls and the rooms like no regular light could.
While outside the marble was still the way it should be. Inside, the floors and ceiling seemed to be moving. It was incredible. Once they reached the end of the entrance hallway, the ceiling disappeared into an endless black void. They had passed into the heart of the mountain. Flying over their heads were hundreds, maybe thousands of tiny yellow creatures, zipping back and forth as if they were on a mission.
“Mountain Faeries,” Carmen said. “Think of them as little messengers. They handle all correspondence inside the University.”
“Fitting, I guess. They never lie, right?”
“Correct. Pretentious little self-righteous snitches if you ask me. That endlessness above us is where you go if you use too much magic outside of school. I’m not sure what happens up there, but I hope I never find out.”
They walked on and Andie began to notice just how many students there were. Thousands upon thousands. They were everywhere. Some had skin in hues and tones she’d never seen before, and some she figured were from the north, were so pale they were almost transparent. They were speaking all kinds of different languages, some of which she’d come into contact with before, but most of which she couldn’t even begin to decipher.
“How many students are there?” she asked.
“Five, six hundred thousand. Who knows? More just keep coming. That’s SKY 1, the faculty train. It runs up to their rent-free homes a little higher up the mountain.”
She pointed to a train of silver and gold that was just pulling off from the tiny station in the middle of a vast interior park.
“Down that way is distress training. Farther on is dangerous species, which is the adjacent wing to extinct species.”
“Like dragons,” Andie muttered.
“Like dragons,” Carmen agreed, squinting at Andie from the corner of her eye. “That way is for students who have graduated from the Academy on to the next levels. That hallway to the far left... well, I don’t know what that is, but I’d steer clear. So, how do you feel?”
“It’s nothing like what I could’ve imagined. I’ve heard stories from my father, even seen pictures, but this is different. Huge. I mean really, really huge. I never made it past the front office yesterday. I feel... kind of insignificant.”
“Great. You’re already fitting in, then. Although, tomorrow, lose the I’m-a-cute-country-girl aura. You’ll never get any worthwhile guys with that act,” she said, having another long look at Andie. “Speaking of, if you’re thinking about staying around here after dark to make out with a warlock hottie, think again. This place locks down when the moon comes up, and the security is insane.”
“Insane?”
“Yeah. I mean animated soldiers of steel and immobilizing mist among others. You ever hear of matrices?”
Of course she had. How could she ever forget those terrible things?
“Yeah. I’ve heard of them,” she said, looking away.
“Well, that’s me,” Carmen said.
“What is?”
“Oh, you can’t hear it? I forgot what it was like to be new here.”
Carmen reached over to touch Andie’s forehead and traced a small circle. A shot ran through Andie’s head and then the sweetest, most alluring song Andie had ever heard rushed through her mind and senses.
“Hear that?” Carmen asked. “That’s the siren’s call. It’ll take you where you need to go. What’s yours anyway?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t even know I had one.”
“Yeah. We can listen to each other’s, but everyone has their own individual call. I thought it was supposed to be something beautiful, but mine sounds
almost like some sort of horn. I guess I got the short stick. See ya, haybale.”
Carmen bounded away and Andie was left to fend for herself. She kept listening to the song, but it didn’t sound like a horn. It must be her own call. She turned a couple times, trying to find which direction the song was coming from. When she caught it, she just followed it. It was the easiest, most satisfying thing in the world.
The siren’s call led her on a winding path into the Academy and around its many corners. It felt right and yet she couldn’t understand it; it felt good, even, but she couldn’t imagine anything capable of making so sweet a sound. It was like music and laughter and a waterfall all together. It was the single most beautiful sound she’d ever heard. It seemed extravagant to have a specific call for each student, especially when considering that there were six hundred thousand of them.
Andie turned right and found herself walking into a classroom. She was smiling softly, lost in the beauty of the call, and so, for a moment, she didn’t notice where she was. After she’d been standing there some moments, she began to look around as her mind focused. It wasn’t History of Magic in Noelle. There were potions, bubbling pots, strange and cloying smells, assorted pieces of animals, and hundreds of vials. It was a potions class and she was in the wrong place. She apologized profusely and had to duck several times to avoid the giant, rotating ball of viscous liquid the professor was floating in front of the class.
Back in the hallway, she heard the call again. On and on she went, eventually being led out into a garden on the mountainside. There again, Andie was happily surprised. There were thousands upon thousands of gorgeous, luminous blooms in the garden. Every imaginable flower in every imaginable variety. They were sprouting, hanging, twisting, draping, creeping, and even floating. They were in every color Andie had ever heard of and many more she didn’t even know were possible. Some even changed color. Buzzing among the blooms and falling petals were skops. Similar to faeries, but tended flowers and only lived for about twelve days. Andie came upon a row of vibrant green bushes that must have continued at least half a kilometer long. They were brimming with pearlescent flowers that were rising and falling over and over again. As Andie drew closer, she saw that they were actually dying and blooming again in an endless cycle that lasted only a matter of moments.
Shaking herself out of the daze of beauty, Andie began to run. Her class had definitely started by then, and she had no idea if she was even anywhere close to the classroom. There would be plenty of time to explore the Academy later, if she wasn’t expelled first.
She ran as hard as she could, weaving through and under the flowers that were everywhere. Her foot caught on something and she fell, slamming chest first into the ground. Her breath fled her. She coughed, having breathed in some dust, and turned.
There was a pair of legs sticking out from under a tangle of roots and peach-colored blooms. The legs bend down onto their knees and they scooted backward out of the roots. A torso then appeared. Then a head. Soon the complete figure was standing over Andie. A perfect, tall figure who smiled down at her with a smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts. He reached out a hand to help her up.
“Were you looking for me?”
Chapter Five
Andie was so stunned by his looks and his mesmerizing eyes that, at first, she couldn’t speak, couldn’t even understand that he was trying to help her to her feet. Seeing she wasn’t focusing, he bent down and grabbed her by her shoulders. Firmly but gently, he lifted her to her feet and only then did Andie fall back into reality.
She stared dumbly into his eyes, then shook her head and pulled herself from her trance. What was she, some pathetic love-struck teenager? “Gross,” she said at the thought.
“I’m sorry?”
She blinked and stared, then felt her face burn a horrible shade or red. “Oh, nothing. Sorry.”
“I’m Tarven, a student advisor,” he said. “You must be my new recruit. I’ve been looking for you.”
“Um, I don’t know. I’m not even sure where I am.”
“This is the Academy. You are a sorceress, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I mean, I don’t know where in the Academy I am. What side of the mountain are we on?”
“West. This is the garden of Victory, the designated garden of the University and the city. I look after it sometimes. I’m really into hortological magic.”
“Plant magic,” Andie said. “Cool.”
“Yeah, I think so. I don’t really know how I got into it, though. I was born and raised in Arvall City where everything’s stone or glass or iron. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve traveled all over Noelle with my family, but always in urban centers. You’d think I’d want to have little to do with actual nature, but it turned out to be something I was really passionate about.”
“I’ve never met anyone who could do plant magic before,” she said, averting her gaze to anywhere but his eyes. “How does it work, exactly?”
“Hortological magic is all about understanding the life of the plant. The breath of its stem, the depth of its bloom, the fragility of its petal. It’s about wanting to see the plant grow, not wanting to control it, even though through this kind of magic you can control the plant.”
“Like the ones I saw coming in, dying and blooming?”
“Exactly. I’ve studied magic my whole life and never came across anything as noble and undervalued as plants.”
“We share similar sentiments in Michaelson. We still depend on crops out there. Are you the only one with that kind of magic here?”
“Well, there’s bound to be at least a couple more in a student body of hundreds of thousands. Speaking of, tell me about yourself. I’ve heard of Michaelson. It’s one of the little farming towns north of here, right?”
“Yeah. Well, I’m nineteen and this is my first day at the Academy. I’m here because I need to learn control.”
She had no idea why she told him that.
“I’m highly sensitive to other people’s pain,” she continued. “I believe people don’t care enough about their own history, and I want to be a researcher when I graduate.”
“That’s great. But I think you’re late.”
“Oh, no!”
She’d completely forgotten about getting to class. It was so nice talking to him, so nice having a normal conversation with a normal and attractive person who didn’t know about her family history. Not that being attractive had anything to do with it. But it was nice speaking to someone, anyone, who didn’t know or ask about her father.
Class was probably already half over. She smiled and thanked Tarven, and began jogging off. But she didn’t know which way to go anymore. The siren’s call had ended. She turned and turned, trying to pick up the trail again.
All of a sudden, she felt a wave of magic rush through her. She checked her icon for a warning, but there was nothing. When she looked up again, the entire garden was on fire.
“Did I do that?” she asked, horrified.
“No,” Tarven said. “I did.”
“Why?”
“It’s kind of my job. This is your first test. If you don’t pass it, I’m afraid you’ll have to go. Sink or swim here, Andie. Put it out or get out. Consider it a fire drill.” A sly grin spread across his face, and she didn’t know whether she should laugh or be angry. Confusion was what she ended up settling on.
She was taken aback. She had no idea how to control her magic aside from a handful of small spells and charms. She’d spent her entire life forcing herself to hold back, suppress her natural ability. Now this guy wanted her to master her skills without warning? Impossible. The reason she was there was to learn control, focus, and expansion, and yet, it seemed her journey was over before it began. The fire blazed brighter and hotter by the second. All it would take was one wrong move to accidentally tap into her dragon magic and ruin everything she’d been trying to hide since she was born.
“You have to help me,” she said, turning to Tarven and pleading. �
�Please. I don’t have this kind of control over myself yet. It’s the whole reason I’m here.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not allowed. This is your test, Andie. Yours. I could feel your power the moment you walked in. It’s one of the gifts of studying hortological magic. You can do this. And I’d love if you could stop the fire before it destroys the rose hip. I was going to use that for a pretty amazing spell later on.”
She walked away a few paces and closed her eyes, trying to focus. She tried to calm herself, the way her mother used to teach her to do when she was a little girl and would get scared or frustrated. And then it dawned on her. Dragons are drawn to fire. It calms them, makes them feel safe, can even heal them in certain situations. She had dragon blood running in her veins. She stretched her hands out to her sides and then it began to fill her. The peace of the flames. She began to feel more powerful, more brave as the flames grew around her. It was almost as if the flames were calling to her. She needed a balance. She needed to embrace the flames and their power without succumbing to the dragon magic.
For the first time, she noticed the other people in the garden. Not many, but enough to make a small crowd. They were pushing together into a little group, trying to avoid the flames and also trying to watch Andie to see what she would do. She wondered if they were forbidden from helping, too.
They were staring at her wide-eyed, no doubt wondering why she felt so at ease so close to flames. She didn’t even feel the heat. But she couldn’t reveal that to Tarven. She tried to focus, knowing that if she failed this first task, not only would she be kicked out of the Academy, she would also hurt her father.
What was worse, if she pushed her own magic back down far enough so that the flames burned her as proof that she wasn’t immune, she would hurt herself in front of Tarven and who knows what her body would do to naturally heal itself. That was not something he or anyone here could see. The panic began to rise again, but she listened to the flames and remained calm. She took a moment to close her eyes and think.