Rebellion

by CM Raymond

“Right…” Hannah said. “I keep meaning to get around to that one.”

  Gregory sat in the corner, taking in the women as they twirled—or in Hannah’s case, staggered—around the open living room. But his focus wasn’t entirely on the dancing.

  Gregory sat at the very edge of the sofa as Sal stretched himself out over the rest. The dragon never blinked, keeping his eyes trained on Gregory the whole time—like he was eyeing up a snack. At least, that’s how Gregory felt.

  He tried his hardest not to make eye contact with the dangerous creature, which was difficult since Hannah’s dancing was kind of hard to watch.

  The entire plan worried him from the get go—it was desperate and contained more than a few flaws—not least of which was Hannah’s deception. “Watch her eyes, Hannah,” Gregory said. “You need to just feel the movement. Dance is intuitive—kind of like casting magic.”

  She scowled at him. “And how the hell would you know?”

  Gregory smiled and shrugged. “I’m a terrible magician, but I’m way better at magic than you are at dancing. I always assumed it was my shortcomings that would get us all killed. But I gotta tell you, I’ve never seen someone suck so hard at something.”

  She scratched the corner of her eye with her middle finger. Her message was clear.

  Eleanor began humming a tune and clapped the beat. Maddie grabbed Hannah and started leading her around the room in a simple Arcadian Waltz. Hannah’s eyes were on her feet. It took all she had to not step on Maddie’s toes again.

  “Eyes up,” Maddie whispered.

  Hannah lifted her gaze and ended up tripping over herself as Maddie spun her around.

  She clenched a fist and shook it, her eyes blazing in frustration. “That’s it! I’m just going to storm the Academy gates. I have a better chance taking on Adrien and his army singlehandedly than I do learning how to waltz.”

  “Don’t give up so soon, dear. Perhaps it takes a more experienced touch.”

  They all turned to find Ezekiel—appearing as himself with a flowing white beard—standing at the bottom of the stairs.

  Hannah couldn’t hold back her smile.

  She and Ezekiel spent little time together these days, and she had realized that she missed their old time in the tower. Other than magic lessons a few days a week, he was all but absent in her life.

  Hannah cocked her head. “What do you know about dancing, Zeke?” She shook her head. “Don’t tell me you founded that, too.”

  He crossed the room with a smile on his face. “Dance is a far older magic than the one I brought to Arcadia, but I know a thing or two,” he said, holding his left hand up for Hannah to take in her right.

  She shifted to lead. The old magician held her steady. “It’s a good thing you learn magic quickly. Just wait. Gregory was right; a dance is not all that different from casting. Listen well, and let your body get into rhythm with the music and your partner. Then let yourself go.”

  They stared into each other’s eyes long enough for it to become awkward. Hannah wasn’t sure if he was breathing. Finally, his eyes burned red, and Hannah knew that her teacher was in her head.

  Let go, he said telepathically. I’ll lead, truly lead, to begin with. And then I will give your body back to you, little by little.

  She gave a little nod, and without willing it whatsoever, her body started to move with Ezekiel’s in a dance more perfect than all of Arcadia had ever seen. While she had no control over her movement, she felt the joy of the dance, the beauty in the movement and the harmony between she and Ezekiel.

  Hannah felt more happiness than she had for months, maybe years. The sensation of dancing without moving was inexplicable, and her head spun as if intoxicated.

  Ezekiel nodded. “Good. Your body is learning it. Convince your mind of that.”

  Closing her eyes, she did just that.

  It’s time. I’ll give the dance back to you, little by little.

  The awareness of the dance came back to her shoulders first. They wanted to hunch and lurch, but Hannah reminded herself that they had learned the moves. She willed them to keep their posture, and they complied.

  Ezekiel continued to move her around the room. She caught a glance of Gregory, who sat smiling like an idiot. She felt her teacher’s control release her hips, and waist, and then her legs.

  The dance continued for as long as Eleanor could hold the tune, and Hannah wished it would never end.

  Finally, the music stopped, and Ezekiel slung her into a final dip.

  “You were fabulous,” Maddie said, holding her hands over her mouth.

  For the first time, Hannah felt almost noble.

  I can do this, she thought. And then when I do, I’ll do the Arcadian Waltz on Adrien’s grave.

  ****

  There were three of them, and the smallest still dwarfed Parker in size. He could tell immediately that the bandits had evil intentions, and that the wicked looking swords in their hands had more than their fair share of use.

  They had emerged from the bushes simultaneously from three different directions. The rearick’s attentive hearing was the only thing that gave Parker and him enough warning to jump to their feet.

  Parker pointed his spear in their direction, with one hand choked up high like Karl had taught him and the other gripped near the back. He jerked the tip of his spear back and forth between all three, trying to keep them all in his line of sight.

  Karl, however, stood casually, his large hammer resting on his shoulder. He yawned wide like the whole thing was no big deal.

  “Let’s keep this simple, boys,” the smallest of the group said. He held a long, serrated dagger in one hand and a small buckler in the other. He was clearly the leader of their group. “Drop your weapons and anything of value. If we think you’ve given us enough, we won’t chase you when you run… probably.” His cruel smile matched his knife’s blade.

  “Aye,” Karl said. “I reckon it will be hard for you to chase anything once I’ve ground your knees to powder. You’ve obviously stumbled upon the wrong kind of folks if you were looking for easy prey. Normally, I’d teach you all a lesson, but my Pit fighting champion and I are in a hurry. So, let me make a one-time counteroffer: I’ll give you five seconds to get the hell out of my sight before I shove my hammer down your throat and out your ass and leave what’s left of your bodies for the ravens and remnant to tear apart.”

  The rearick turned to his right and spit out into the grass before turning back and added, “That last part is non-negotiable.”

  The tiny man seemed a little taken aback by Karl’s response, but the large woman with a broadsword to his right only laughed. “Come on, Rick, let’s cut this foolish rearick in half.”

  Without waiting to confirm, she charged ahead at Karl, and the leader, Rick, followed. That left Parker to deal with the largest of them on his own.

  The bald man smiled, his flat nose and wide eyes giving him the appearance of a bull. He wore no armor but carried a sword almost as large as Parker’s spear.

  Parker could hear the sound of metal on metal behind him as well as someone screaming in pain, but he ignored it, focusing solely on the large man.

  “Pit fighting champion, eh?” the brute said without a smile. “The hell you are. You’re just some dumbass little prick who’s about to die screaming for his mom.”

  Parker swallowed his fear and smiled as wide as he could. “Well, you’re the expert on little pricks. At least according to what your mom told me—after she stopped her screaming, if you know what I mean.”

  The man’s violent response confirmed that he did know what Parker meant.

  He lunged forward, giant sword swinging in a broad arc aimed to take Parker’s head off. Parker ducked just in time and dove out of the way. But the big man was quick. He wasted no time coming after Parker, hacking downward before Parker could climb to his feet.

  Parker grit his teeth, but managed to get the spear broadways in front of him. His arms shook as the spear took the for
ce of the attack. The man raised his sword again, and Parker wondered how much his spear, or his arms, could take before splintering.

  He decided not to stick around long enough to find out.

  Rolling just in time, Parker felt the sword swing past him and burrow in the dirt. Parker kicked out at the man’s knee, but his foot bounced harmlessly off his thick thigh. The man smiled for the first time ever. “I’m going to eat your damned liver, boy.”

  Parker scrambled backward away from his attacker as the sword came down again and again. He needed to get off the ground and gain some space between him and the ogre of a man. Parker swung the spear in a flailing motion. It was weak and poorly aimed, and there was no way it would hit its target. But it forced the man to take a step back, which gave Parker a chance to get back in the game.

  He planted his feet and held the spear out like Karl had shown him.

  The man ignored the threat and charged again.

  Parker thrusted—this time with confidence, stepping forward as he did. The spear point was enough of a threat that the man decided to aim his attack there instead—hoping to swat it aside so he could get in close for the kill.

  It was the kind of thing Karl told him would happen.

  As the sword was about to make contact, Parker spun, pulling his spear in and then slashing it out again as he came around. The man’s full-bodied swing left him unguarded and Parker finished his spin by making contact with the man’s broad back. A wide red line appeared, and the man yelled in pain.

  Karl had shown him that move as well.

  The man stumbled a couple feet before turning, his whole face red with rage.

  “You little shit-eating, son of a—”

  But before he could finish his tirade, Parker lunged forward with another standard thrust. This time, the man was weary of the spearhead that was covered in his blood. He shut his mouth and stumbled backward.

  That was the very first move Karl had taught him.

  Parker crouched a little lower and spun the weapon, holding it above his head like he was about to spear a fish. Parker began to circle his opponent; a look of doubt crossed the man’s eyes.

  Parker knew it was time to finish it. He sprinted forward. Years of running from bullies in the Boulevard had trained him to be fast. He yelled, a move Karl taught him would add strength to his arm. The man took another step back, ready for the lunging spear. It was what he expected, the exact move Karl had taught him to use.

  But Parker had some moves of his own.

  At the last second, he brought the spear down and stuck it in the dirt. The spear launched him forward into the air. Feet first, Parker crashed into the man’s chest as the brute’s bloodshot eyes turned from confusion to rage to fear.

  The force of Parker’s attack pushed the man backward, and he tripped over his own feet. He was a large, brute of a man, and he had a long way to fall. Had there been open ground behind him, he would have landed hard. As it was, the ground wasn’t open behind him. It happened to hold the raging fire that Karl had built up that morning.

  Flames engulfed the man. Screams filled Parker’s ears, the smell of burning flesh reaching his nose shortly after. The large men flailed on the ground before jumping to his feet. He was on fire, like some sort of ancient demon. And he charged at Parker, the flames burning brighter as he ran.

  The flaming giant was a sight that would have caused full grown men to shit in their pants, but Parker held his ground. He placed a foot back and spun the spear around to the front. The man skewered himself on it like a roasted pig, and Parker dropped him and the spear into the dirt.

  He stared at the dead man, watching the flames slowly burn themselves out. Finally, he remembered that he wasn’t alone. He turned to see what happened to his companion and the other bandits.

  Karl was standing, in almost the exact same casual position he had been in when the whole thing started. The only difference was the bloody hammer, the bloody heap of bodies behind him, and the look of pride on his face.

  “Well done, lad,” the rearick said. “Although, if you had tried those fancy acrobatics on me, I would have chopped your legs out from under ya.”

  Parker grinned, though he felt a little sick. “It’s like I always told ya, Karl. I’m pretty hot stuff.” The rearick laughed at Parker’s stupid pun. “What happened to those guys?” Parker asked pointing to the mangled corpses.

  Karl shrugged. “Us rearick are an honest folk.”

  Parker looked confusedly at his friend. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  Karl looked back at the remains of the little man. “It means I tried really, really hard to fit my hammer down his throat.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Ezekiel stood in the center of an empty room near the back of the mansion. He smiled as Gregory entered, and the young man sighed in relief at seeing him dressed in his normal form. Training with Ezekiel was stressful enough without having him look like Lord Girard as well. No matter how well Gregory knew it was only an illusion, the image of the old noble still filled him with unease.

  Gregory had been joining Hannah at her evening lessons for weeks, but his magic wasn’t developing as he hoped that it would. Ezekiel was certainly better than most at the academy, but good teaching was not the problem. No matter how hard Gregory tried, how much he practiced, he still only bumbled through the most basic spells.

  The most frustrating part of the entire thing was that he completely understood how magic worked—or as completely as anyone did in their age. Even Hannah didn’t quite get the deeper truths that Ezekiel told them about. But turning theory into practice was something Gregory was never very good at. While his enrollment went through at the Academy without a hitch, it was only because his father was the Chief Engineer. If he wanted to stay, it would take twice the work as the rest of the students.

  “She’s not with you?” Ezekiel asked as he stepped into the room.

  “Good to see you, too,” Gregory said. He flushed, knowing he was second class wherever he went.

  The old wizard smiled and nodded knowingly. “I apologize. But you’ll forgive an old man for worrying. You must understand that every day she’s out there, I’m afraid that she could be found out, taken in. Hannah wouldn’t receive a slap on the hand, as you might. It would be the end of our girl.”

  Gregory’s cheeks burned, not out of embarrassment of his rank this time, but because he should be more concerned about his friend than what people thought of him. “You’re… you’re right.”

  Ezekiel paced across the room. Placing his hand on Gregory’s shoulder, he said, “And, you are important here as well.”

  “Because I’m on the inside—and my dad…” Gregory started before the old man cut him off.

  “Your place in society has meaning for us,” Ezekiel said. “But it is not only that. There is something about you, Gregory. You’re not like most of the other students at the academy. You have a curious mind and a tenacity that puts them all to shame. Plus, you are one of the brightest people I have ever known.”

  Gregory sighed. He welcomed the compliment, but he hesitated to trust it. “How can I be smart when I struggle to even light a candle with my magic?”

  “Perhaps it is that very struggle that has given you your mind—given you a power beyond your peers.”

  Gregory furrowed his brow but remained silent, clueless of the meaning behind Ezekiel’s riddle.

  “Humility.” The wizard smiled. “The last magician I trained with a brain like yours wasn’t so capable. After all, it was Adrien’s hubris, not his spell work, that got us into this mess. And it’s your spirit that will help get us out.”