Apprentice Wizards of Hope

by Gary J. Davies

  “None of your damn business, shrimp! I’ll ask the questions!” John’s face turned red, he was so steamed.

  “Ask away, but I also think that you owe Jim here an apology.”

  “You stupid big-mouth twerp!” John said, as he reached out with two big hands to grab Ben by the shirt collar. His hands weren’t able to quite reach him, however; they slid off him as though he were slippery as ice. “What the hell!” he swore. “You’re shielding, aren’t you! That’s breaking the law!”

  “Sorry. It’s involuntary. Be careful, I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

  “Hurt myself, hell!” he roared. “I have powers too!” With that, he took a round-house swing at Ben’s stomach. His fist rebounded off of Ben, who never even flinched, and he was thrown back sprawling to the floor. Fortunately the other kids had fallen back far enough to not be bowled over by his sliding body.

  Several kids laughed; a few applauded.

  John, clearly unhappy, pulled himself up and held his crushed right hand, with obvious pain and anger.

  “What’s going on here?” asked a commanding voice. A tiny gray-haired old lady strode towards the site of the scuffle from the direction of the Courtyard. “John Dwight, what a surprise. Picking on freshmen again this year?”

  “I, ah, slipped and fell,” John muttered through clenched teeth.

  “So I noticed. That hand is broken. Must hurt. Report to Councilman Roberts immediately in the Courtyard to get yourself fixed up and assist in the Evaluations. Tell him that I sent you to help with the testing.”

  John glared at Ben hatefully before sulking off towards the Courtyard.

  The stern, tiny lady next turned her attention to Ben. “I don’t believe that I know you, but judging from the red-headed Tuttle company you keep, am I right in assuming that you are the infamous Ben King?”

  “Yes Ma’am, I am.”

  “I am Vice-Principle Sharp. I can’t sense you at all, Mr. King. Surely you know that cloaking outside the Courtyard isn’t permitted?”

  “I’m sorry; I have no control over it. I’m hoping to learn how to do that at school, Ma’am.”

  “I see. And what happened just now to Mr. Dwight?”

  “He accidentally sort of ran into me, I guess, and hurt himself against my shielding.”

  “Your shielding?”

  “Yes Ma’am.”

  “Which I suppose is also involuntary?”

  “Yes Ma’am it is. I’m sorry.”

  “I see. Well, isn’t that interesting! Very interesting,” she concluded, showing the slightest hint of a smile before turning her attention to Jim. “Mr. Nater, you’re last in the current group. Report at once to the Entry Table.”

  “Yes, Vice Principle,” said Jim, as he hurried off to the Courtyard entrance. During the ruckus, the entire line of freshmen in front of Jim had apparently already been admitted to the Courtyard for Evaluation.

  Sharp turned back to Ben and the Tuttles. “You three hellions try to stay out of trouble,” she ordered, before marching off into the Courtyard.

  “Wow, she’s a hellion herself!” said Mark.

  “I’ll say,” said Ann. “But I think she likes you, Ben.”

  “Really?”

  “Let’s watch the Evaluations,” said Mark, as they moved forward to stand in the doorway to the Courtyard.

  “Wow!” it was Ben’s turn to say, as he got his first good look at the famed Hope Courtyard. It was a huge enclosed space that consisted largely of a baseball-football-track area surrounded by bleachers full of people, next to a second open area that featured several tennis and basket-ball courts and other various sports-equipped spaces. Well-trimmed green grass covered most of the ground. High above, an enormous domed glass ceiling provided light as well as security from scrutiny from above. The huge four-story High School and Civic Center building completely surrounded the open Courtyard.

  More interesting than the traditional sports equipment however, was the Evaluation event itself. Widely dispersed within the area surrounded by bleachers were ten judging tables, and around each sat several adults. Each table featured a large sign with a single identifying capital letter. In front of each stood the boy or girl being evaluated.

  As Ben watched, he saw some of them fade slightly for a moment. From experience he knew that they were cloaking, but due to his own abilities he could still see them perfectly. A couple of kids floated a few feet above the ground, demonstrating telekinetic levitation abilities. Other objects of various sizes also were levitated by the test subjects. A pile of wood was set ablaze at one location, and Ben watched with interest as the flames were suddenly extinguished, also presumably by the boy being evaluated. Ben could do many such things before the attack eight years ago, now he could do none of them. “They all seem to be going through mostly the same routines,” he observed.

  “It’s the standard stuff we were coached on in grade school,” explained Ann. “We learned about all twenty-seven categories of Powers.”

  “Who are all the on-lookers?” Ben asked. The bleachers were half full of both adults and students: several hundred people in total.

  “The adults are mostly parents and curious teachers,” said Mark.

  “Plus students like Troy and his buddies that want to size up the new students,” added Ann. “It's a day off for those not being evaluated, but a lot of upper-classmen come in for the show.”

  There was a round of laughter and snickers from some of the onlookers when a boy who had been levitating ten feet above ground suddenly plummeted to the grass.

  “Quiet in the stands,” admonished Vice-Principle Sharp’s voice loudly. Ben couldn’t tell if her announcement had been enhanced by magic or by conventional means, but the crowd hushed considerably. A large blonde boy still stood pointing and laughing from the bleachers.

  “That’s Troy,” Mark said.

  “Figures,” said Ben. "He's grown from a small jerk into a very big one."

  The fallen boy gamely picked himself up and limped to stand before his judges’ table with head drooping. It was Jim, Ben realized. Despite his unfortunate tumble, the judges must have told him something positive, because he whooped joyfully, and bounced off to sit in the stands, obviously very happy.

  Ben noticed that the other nine test subjects were also either exiting the Courtyard completely or cheerfully moving to the viewing stands to sit near Jim, leaving their bored looking judges to stand up and stretch or to walk towards the Entry Table.

  “Next ten applicants report to the Entry Table,” announced Vice-Principle Sharp. She sat at a table that was near the entrance where Ben and the others stood. A large sign identified it to be the Entry Table. Four other adults sat with her, working with notebooks stuffed thick with Evaluation related information. Judges walked from each of the judging tables to turn in sheets of paper to them.

  Near the Vice Principle was what looked like a large game-show apparatus: an upright spinning wheel a full two meters in diameter!

  There was a bit of confusion as the kids in line determined who the next ten test subjects were, then the ten filed nervously towards the Entry Table, including Ben, Mark, and Ann.

  Ann was first to stand before the table.

  “Name,” barked Vice Principle Sharp, though she obviously knew who Ann was.

  “Ann Marie Tuttle,” Ann answered.

  “Very well. Spin the wheel so that it goes around at least twice.”

  Ann pulled down on it hard enough for it to spin a dozen times.

  “Professor Hart, Table A,” Sharp announced in her intercom voice, when the wheel finally stopped. In response a short rotund man stood up from distant Judging Table C and ambled towards Table A.

  In the meantime the spinning wheel, which was covered with dozens of names, seemed to blur for a moment as Hart’s name disappeared. Several of the teens muttered their surprise. It made sense, Ben reasoned, to remove the chosen judge’s name from the wheel, but he didn’t know how the spell to do it
was being done.

  “Spin again child, we don’t have all day,” Sharp told Ann, who had been staring at the wheel, transfixed.

  “Yes-um,” Ann replied, as she spun again.

  “Council Member Gribbins, Table A,” Sharp announced. Gribins was a friend of her father, Ann knew.

  After her three judges had been selected, Ann also walked to Table A. Mark’s judges were similarly chosen and he went to Table F. Then it was Ben’s turn.

  “Benjamin Samuel King,” Ben announced. Ben pushed the wheel, and was surprised when it seemed to spin longer than expected before stopping. “Council Chairman Horace Grim, Table C,” Sharp announced, eyebrows raised.

  Ben looked at Table C and saw that the stern Chairman was already sitting there!

  “Very interesting,” Sharp noted, as several onlookers shook their heads. “Spin again, young man.”

  This time the wheel came to an abruptly odd stop after only two rotations. “Councilman Eric Tuttle, Table C,” Sharp announced.

  Ben looked towards Table C in time to catch Red Eric in the act of already sitting down. There were more murmurs from the onlookers.

  “Much too interesting,” Sharp noted.

  On Ben’s third spin the wheel kept going and going, though he hadn’t put much effort into spinning it. When it stopped, Ben noted that all the names on the wheel were exactly the same! They all said Vice Principle Sharp!

  “Vice Principle Sharp report to Table C, and Professor Jenkins report to the Entry Table,” Sharp announced, to a chorus of astonished mutterings. Soon she and Ben were walking together to Table C. “You may be some sort of political issue for some, young man, but I’ll see to it that you get an absolutely fair Evaluation.”

  “Thank you, Ma’am,” Ben said gratefully.

  “Horace, Eric,” Sharp acknowledged the two Master Wizards, as they reached the judging table. The Vice Principle made a point of squeezing her seat between that of the two other judges. “I’ll preside,” she announced.

  “No Martha,” protested Chairman Grim, “the first chosen judge is to preside, according to the rules.”

  “True, Horace,” Sharp countered, “but the first chosen is also supposed to be a school faculty member. Somehow that didn’t happen until the third spin. I am the first chosen school person.”

  “I am Council Chairman,” Grim retorted.

  “And I am this year’s Evaluations Chairman,” Sharp replied. “As such I can have any Judge replaced. I’ve already essentially done one replacement by making myself a judge. Don’t tempt me to replace another.”

  “The Evaluations Chairman can also be replaced,” Grim said coldly.

  “Only by a unanimous vote of the full Council, including myself,” noted Red Eric. "That isn't going to happen. Besides, I don’t think we want a full investigation of the selections that have already occurred, do we Chairman? We waste time. Let’s get on with it, shall we?”

  Grim shrugged, but nodded his head.

  “Good,” said Sharp, as she turned to Ben. “CAN YOU TELEPATH, BENJAMIN?” she asked silently.

  “I can hear all telepaths but cannot send signals since I was six,” Ben replied.

  "That's one point at best," said Grim.

  "More like three," said Eric. "He reads strongly cloaked and encoded communications. I can attest to that."

  “I'm doing the scoring," said Sharp. "We'll split the difference and give him two. Can you move things through telekinesis?”

  “No Ma’am, not since I was six.”

  “Hah!” Grim snorted. “Zero points. You’re wasting our time. He is unqualified to be an Apprentice Wizard.”

  “Can you cloak, Ben?” Sharp asked.

  “I partly cloak all the time, 24-7,” Ben said, “but I can’t control it.”

  “He has to control it for it to count,” said Grim.

  “He merely has to do it himself for it to count,” corrected Eric. “Go ahead and try to read the boy, Horace. Seeing through cloaking is one of my specialties and I couldn’t do it.”

  “Maybe you simply didn’t try heard enough,” Grim said. “Very well, you two can monitor.” With that he fixed his dark stare on Ben.

  Ben stared back at the Chairman calmly. He had withstood attempted probes before, by Wizards, by an elf, and probably by a Demon. He wasn’t at all worried. Seconds went by slowly, while as far as Ben could tell, nothing at all was happening, even though all the judges seemed to be focused on him. He felt somewhat uncomfortable, being stared at that way, but otherwise felt no probing. “And I can see through anyone else’s cloaking too,” he said at last, breaking the silence.

  “Enough,” announced Sharp, and all three Wizards visibly relaxed.

  “It has to be a permanent spell!” said Grim. “I couldn’t read anything at all of him!” He sounded both surprised and dazed.

  “I detect no externally wrought spell or other form of outside interference,” said the Vice Principle. “It is as the boy says, he’s doing it himself.” With that she faded slightly for a moment, then walked around the table and approached Ben as if to shake his hand. Ben could see through her cloaking, and reached out to shake her hand in response.

  “Amazing,” she muttered, as she made herself visible to the others and returned to her seat. “Young man, were you even aware of the Chairman’s probing?”

  “No, I’m sorry, I don’t usually feel it when someone probes or attacks me,” Ben replied.

  “Attack? You claim to shield also?” Grim asked in surprise.

  “Yes sir,” Ben said.

  “I see you haven’t bothered to read my reports, Horace,” said Red Eric.

  “He should be attacked as a test,” said Grim.

  “Chairman,” said the Vice Principle, “you’re still tired from probing. I should attack and Eric should monitor.”

  “I disagree,” said the Chairman. “You are only level three in attacking, as I recall. I propose that Bruger carry out the attack.”

  “That’s absurd,” said Eric. “Carl Bruger is our strongest Attack Wizard, and Ben’s only a fourteen year old boy.”

  “That’s OK,” Ben said, “it won’t make any difference.”

  “Who has attacked you before, Ben?” Sharp asked.

  “Besides Eric several Unaligned Wizards have attacked me, and a Master Wizard elf.”

  “Really?” Grim asked. “Then being attacked by a mere Hope Wizard should be a small matter to you.”

  “I just don’t want to hurt anybody,” Ben responded. “They should be careful not to hurt themselves when they attack me.”

  "Ha!" said Grim.

  “Very well then,” said Sharp, “I’ve summoned Bruger. Eric, you and I will both monitor. Ben, come here with me."

  She walked Ben to a clear area at the center of the field, where they were met by Fred Kroner, Council Secretariat and School Superintendent and Principal. “You need my help, Martha?”

  Sharp nodded. “I want you to form a containment area that protects the onlookers and the building. Bruger is attacking Ben King, monitored by myself and Eric.”

  “Bruger!” muttered Kroner, astonished.

  “Reporting, Vice Principle,” said a young man as big and strong looking as Moco, who had also just arrived on the scene. Unlike the dark-haired, brooding werewolf, this man was blond and cheerful looking, and looked to be in his late twenties. He wore, of all things, metallic armor, as though he had just been jousting in some sort of medieval tournament.

  “Ah, Carl Bruger,” said the diminutive Sharp. “I want you to attack young Ben King, to test his shielding strength. Red Eric and I will monitor.”

  “Ben King?” said the big man, as he looked down at Ben in astonishment. “You’re the famous returned-from-the-dead Ben King?”

  “Yes sir I am Ben King,” Ben replied. "Though I was never dead."

  “Fantastic!” Bruger said, with a wide smile. His face sobered abruptly a few seconds later when Eric told him telepathically that the boy was an orph
an. “I suggest that Sam Putt also assist in monitoring. He knows my attack technique and is the most experienced safety monitor in Hope.”

  “Of course,” agreed Sharp. “Have him bring your weapons."

  "Try using your famous hammer," said Grim.

  “My attack hammer!” Bruger said in astonishment. “That’s my most destructive weapon! Well, now, that should be a crowd pleaser, and we seem to be the only game in town.”

  Looking around, Ben noticed that all the other evaluations of his round had already been completed. Indeed, looking into the stands he saw Ann and Mark sitting up-front, with Moco sitting nearby! If Ben was surprised to see the normally nocturnal werewolf observing, he was even more surprised to see a slimmer figure sitting next to him, covered almost totally by her black raincoat. Amanda seldom ventured out in the daytime, but she seemed to be tolerating this brightening summer day. She even waved a black-gloved hand at him!

  Shortly another big man in armor entered the stadium area and approached Table C. He was laden with weapons attached to his armor, some primitive looking, some futuristic looking. In his right hand he carried a huge hammer, in his left he carried a long spear. Strapped to his back was an immense bow and a quiver of over-sized arrows, as well as what looked like some sort of rocket launcher. At his waist was a sword in its scabbard. Finally, strapped to his left arm was a large oval-shaped metallic shield. As he got closer, it became apparent that every inch of the man's heavily warded shield and body armor were battered and notched by blows.

  “Ah, Vice Principle, and Chairman Grim and Councilmen/Principle Kroner as well!” he said jovially. “Have you academics decided at last to joust with me and the lad? Red Eric I am not surprised to see!” In one smooth motion he drove the spear into the ground, and with his now free left hand he slapped Bruger playfully on the back, causing a resounding clanking sound that reverberated throughout the Courtyard.

  “No Sam, not today,” said Bruger with a laugh. “They want me to test this young lad’s shielding with my hammer, and you to help monitor.” He gestured towards Ben. “Sam, this youngster is none other than Ben King!”

  “Ben King!” he said in astonishment as he sized up the teenager. “Wonders never cease! My pleasure, youngster! I remember well your folks! They were powerful Wizards and good people!” He reached out and shook hands with Ben. “But surely, you folks can’t be serious about Bruger’s hammer? Besides striking with tons of force, Carl adds to it a big plasma blast several thousands of degrees in temperature.”