Guardian Academy 1: Seeds Of Magic (The Mystery Of The Four Corners)

by Maria Amor

  Julia heard the professor’s shout and tried to think of an excuse for being in the bushes. Think! Think! Crap. Her mind was swirling with the information she’d gleaned, and the certainty that the professor had heard her—might even be able to faintly see her—in the bushes. What was she going to say if she was confronted? When she was confronted? Julia could hear the PE teacher’s rapid footfalls coming in the direction of where she floundered, stuck, in the hedge.

  “What the hell are you doing in that bush?” Julia twisted as much as the branches trapping her in place would allow and looked up to see Professor Ashbel looking down at her, cheeks ablaze, eyes gleaming with anger—and fear. “Spying on me?”

  “No! No!” Julia tried to extricate herself, feeling a mixture of embarrassment for her predicament and panic at the fact that she’d been caught at all. “I was skipping class, going to meet someone, and when you came out...”

  “I know you air-aligned Guardian kids all have ears like bats,” Ashbel said harshly. “What did you hear?”

  “Nothing, I didn’t even know there was anything to hear,” Julia said, shaking her head. “I was just trying to keep from getting caught skipping classes.”

  “Well that sure worked out well for you,” Professor Ashbel said sarcastically. “Come on, we’re going to talk to the dean.”

  Julia wanted to argue, but she knew there was no point. Focus on making sure nobody knows that you were spying on her, she thought as Ashbel pulled her out of the bushes. “Oh, come on—can’t you just let me go to class and get a demerit from my professor?” She knew that if she went too quietly, it would be obvious she was up to something.

  “That depends,” Ashbel said archly. “What were you skipping class for?” Julia willed herself to blush, and looked down at the brick walkway under her feet.

  “I was supposed to meet someone,” she said, making her voice as coy as possible.

  “Someone, eh?”

  “Yeah,” Julia said. Her heart was pounding in her chest, making it easier to pretend to be chagrined. She could feel the heat in her cheeks and thanked the elements that the fast flow of blood made her blush without being actually embarrassed.

  “Granddaughter of Ruth Arlen and you’re sneaking off to meet with—what, some boy?” Ashbel shook her head. “We’re going to the dean. You can tell him who to send the monitors to look for who is waiting for you.” Ashbel grabbed her upper arm and Julia could feel the heat of the woman’s energy radiating from her touch; she took a deep breath and fell into step next to the professor.

  As they walked across the campus, Julia’s mind churned with ideas and half-formed plans for what she would do when they arrived at Dimitrios’ office. She and Dylan had tentatively made plans for what they could do if one of them got caught while sneaking around, but somehow that half-formed plan didn’t seem to be good enough in the face of the reality. She had told Ashbel that she’d been going to meet someone—she could say it was Dylan, that they were going to meet up somewhere, but part of her mind suggested that if she did, that would just confirm any lingering idea that she was doing what she actually had been.

  The administration offices at the School of Sandrine were mundane, compared to the rest of the school; Julia thought she remembered that there was something in the school’s charter about how the administration should be kept as humble as possible, and considering what the current dean seemed to be doing, Julia couldn’t help but be amused.

  The front of the office held a huge, old desk, with a middle-aged Mrs. Halpern tending it. Halpern had been at the school as long as or longer than Julia had, and Julia had to wonder if the woman knew anything about what the dean was up to.

  Halpern looked up as the door closed behind them, and Julia met her gaze with a rueful smile. “Julia?” Julia shrugged.

  “She was out of class,” Ashbel said. “Hiding in some bushes. Says she was going to meet someone.” Halpern frowned slightly, and Julia thought she saw something in the fire-aligned woman’s eyes, there and gone in an instant.

  “I’ll let the dean know you’re here,” Halpern said. “Have a seat.” Ashbel steered Julia towards one of the chairs in the waiting area, and Julia sat down, trying to form some kind of plan in her mind in the last few minutes before she had to face the dean.

  She had to go with the story she’d told Ashbel, Julia realized; but she couldn’t just name someone at random to be meeting—after all, that would just blow up in her face when the dean had the student pulled out of class. There were a few of her friends that she could trust to at least try to back her up, but who could she trust to be quick enough to catch her story and provide the right kind of details to make it sound good?

  It’s going to have to be Dylan, she thought glumly. Dylan wasn’t the best choice, and she would have to really sell an alternative reason for meeting him, especially if the dean showed any signs of being suspicious of what she was investigating.

  “You can go back,” Halpern said, glancing at Julia once more. “Julia, I’d like to have a word with you privately, after the dean is done with you. Of course, you know we’ll have to contact your parents.”

  “I know,” Julia said, trying to keep her voice chastened, in spite of the tingle of intrigue she felt. Halpern had been friendly to her in the past; did the administrative assistant know anything about what was going on? Julia shook the question off—she had an important plan to implement.

  Dean Dimitrios didn’t stand as they came into this office, instead pinning Julia down with a dark-eyed stare. “So, you were skipping class,” the dean said, and Julia thought he had to be pulling on earth-aligned energy to put that much depth and gravitas into his voice.

  “She claims she was going to meet someone,” Ashbel told him. Julia stood, trying to project vulnerability and defiance at the same time, trying to play a role she was making up as she went along.

  “I was,” Julia admitted.

  “Who were you going to meet? And to what purpose?” Julia licked her lips, wondering irrelevantly if her throat had ever been so dry in her entire life.

  “Dylan,” she mumbled.

  “Say that again?” The dean leaned forward slightly.

  “Dylan,” Julia said, just slightly louder. “Dylan Kelby.”

  “And why were you going to meet Dylan?” The dean had abandoned his act, and Julia could hear the surprise in his voice.

  “Well,” Julia said, keeping her voice as low as she could manage without forcing either of the two authorities in the room to tell her to speak up. “I mean...he’s my companion, as you know. My grandmother set him to watch over me, and to help me, while I’m going through my ‘blossoming’.” She hated to use the word, but it would—she hoped—sell her story.

  “So why were you meeting with him when you were supposed to be in class? What was so important that you couldn’t wait an hour or two for the school day to be over?” Julia’s heart hammered in her chest and she felt her cheeks obligingly heat up with a deep blush.

  “I…” she looked down at the floor. “I’ve been having some symptoms that I thought—since he’s already gone through his transition, he might be able to help me with,” Julia said quietly.

  “Symptoms, eh?” Ashbel’s voice sounded as if she were resisting the urge to laugh. “What kind of symptoms? Pounding heart? Dry mouth? Inability to keep your hands to yourself?”

  “I’m sure that the granddaughter of Ruth Arlen would never be so inappropriate,” the dean said.

  “Just feelings I’ve been having,” Julia said coyly. “I wanted to talk to him about them. See if he could help me.” Julia dared a glance at the professor and the dean, swallowing against the dry feeling in her throat.

  “I think it’s pretty clear what she had in mind, Professor Ashbel,” the dean said. “But let’s bring in Dylan just to confirm her story.”

  “I agree,” Ashbel said. Julia decided to make another move towards selling her story.

  “Maybe while we’re waiting for him to get
here, you could mention something to Professor Ashbel about the on-campus tobacco policy, Dean Dimitrios?” Julia dared to meet the dean’s gaze. “I think she must not know it very well, since when she found me hiding in the bushes, she was smoking a cigarette.”

  “That is a separate issue, and one I’ll deal with alone with the professor,” the dean said firmly. He pressed a button on the phone on his desk, and it beeped. “Professor Braden, please send Dylan Kelby to the office.” Julia resisted the urge to giggle, glancing for just a second at Professor Ashbel. The woman was blushing, her jaw tight. Put them on the defensive, even just a little, and they’ll want to believe your story just to get you out of here. Her grandmother would have called it a reckless strategy, but Julia was fairly certain it would bear fruit, especially if Dylan would play along.

  The silence in the dean’s office as they waited for Dylan seemed to wear on both the professor and the dean, but Julia had spent the week of spring break learning how to control the flow of her energy as much as she could; she took slow, deep breaths, keeping her eyes averted as if she were embarrassed to be caught, when in actuality she was barely controlling her sense of fear that the real reason she was out of class would be surmised.

  What seemed like an eternity later, Dylan came into the office after a quick knock. “Mr. Kelby,” the dean said, leaning back slightly at his desk. “Your friend here says that she made an arrangement to meet with you during class, is that so?” Julia willed Dylan to remember that they’d agreed to cover each other, that they’d agreed that whatever the story was they’d both stick to it.

  “I did,” Dylan said simply. He moved slightly closer to her, and Julia played up to the two adults in the room, glancing at him and then away, letting her blush intensify.

  “And why was it that Ms. Beval wanted to meet with you?” Ashbel’s voice was strident, tense. Julia kept her gaze on the floor, trying to look vulnerable and humble. If there was ever a time when telepathy would come in handy, this is it, she thought.

  “She said it was something about her transition,” Dylan said. Julia wanted to laugh with relief.

  “Did she?” The dean was gazing at Dylan intently. “Why did you two need to meet during class hours?”

  “Because…” Dylan glanced at her, and Julia met his gaze, pressing her lips together. “We were beginning to talk about her needs. As she transitions,” Dylan said. “And her symptoms are erratic—she’s getting power surges constantly. As you can probably recall, she spent all of spring break at her grandmother’s house, to keep from risking discovery.”

  “I remember that,” the dean said. “So, what were you supposed to be doing at this little meeting?”

  “Exchanging energy,” Dylan said. “Ruth Arlen taught me a method of helping Julia to dampen down her excess air-aligned energy, and I agreed to help her. We didn’t intend to miss the entire period, but we thought that it would probably be better for her not to risk starting a windstorm in a classroom.” Julia felt the urge to laugh again twitch through her. Relief flooded her system; Dylan sounded so perfect: a little annoyed, a little piqued, defensive. “Her grandmother insisted that I should be able to assist Julia at any time she needs it.”

  “Just what kind of assistance, what kind of energy transfer are you talking about?” Julia bit her bottom lip, a spirit of mischief rising up in her. Please go along with me on this, Dylan. It will be too good.

  “We could show you,” Julia suggested, making her voice a bit more shy. Julia caught the sight of Dylan’s eyes widening, and knew that he’d picked up on her emotional state.

  “Please do,” Ashbel said tartly.

  “I don’t know if—” But before the dean could finish his sentence, Julia had turned and closed the distance between herself and Dylan. She threw her arms around his shoulders and leaned in close, meeting his gaze for just an instant, hoping to communicate an entire argument in a second, before she closed her eyes and pressed her lips against his.

  For an instant, Dylan was frozen, obviously as stunned as the other two people in the room at what Julia had done. His lips were surprisingly soft against hers, warmer than she would have thought. She’d never kissed Dylan like this before; there had been a kind of reserve between them, something like a sibling relationship—she’d never even considered it before.

  She felt his hands on her back, and a flood of emotion surged through her with his energy: confusion, fear, excitement, and for just a millisecond, something hot and nameless, all in a jolt. Julia held the kiss for a few heartbeats more and felt his energy shift into something more calming, more soothing, like it was when he really did help her manage the power surges. When she thought the kiss had gone on long enough, she pulled back, slipping free of Dylan’s arms.

  “Does that answer your question, Professor Ashbel?” The PE teacher looked utterly stunned; the dean, when Julia glanced at him, was hardly less so.

  “I think that answers quite a few questions,” Dean Dimitrios said. “Both of you go back to class.” He cleared his throat. “If you need such assistance in the future, you need to manage your time between classes better.”

  “Yes, sir,” Julia said, barely managing to keep her expression neutral. “We’ll go right back to class.” That wasn’t entirely true; she’d agreed to meet with the dean’s administrative assistant, but it was good enough for the dean himself.

  CHAPTER 25

  Dylan staggered out of the dean’s office, bemused at the turn of events that had just transpired. “What was that?” He pitched his voice as low as possible as Julia moved towards the administrative assistant’s desk.

  “That was me keeping the dean off the scent,” Julia told him tightly.

  “You wanted to speak with me, Mrs. Halpern? Can Dylan stay for the talk, too?”

  Dylan stared at Julia, still stunned by everything that had happened in the last fifteen minutes. He had never had a problem with finding girls who wanted to kiss him; even before he’d been semi-famous, Dylan had managed quite well, and then when he had been a recording artist, he’d had more than his fair share of interested girls—some of them grown women—who wanted a piece of him. But the fact that Julia, of all people, had just kissed him like that, out of the blue, was difficult to wrap his mind around.

  “We are going to talk about it later,” Dylan hissed to her.

  “Dylan can hear what I have to say, too,” Mrs. Halpern said, and Dylan looked at the administrative assistant with a mixture of curiosity and lingering shock. “Come with me—we’ll just step into the supply closet. It’s a tight fit for three, but I don’t want anyone to overhear us.”

  Dylan followed Julia and the dean’s assistant into a little room—it was a large closet, he thought—attached to the front office, still trying to think of what had just happened, trying to figure out what he thought about it. “What were you really doing, Julia?” The woman’s firm tone surprised Dylan again. “Were you spying on Professor Ashbel?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Julia said.

  “You know very well what I am talking about, Ms. Beval,” Mrs. Halpern said. “Your grandmother asked me to run interference for you if you needed it—but I didn’t think you would be so stupid as to get yourself caught in such an obvious way.”

  “You’ve spoken with Ruth Arlen?” Dylan was surprised that he was even able to speak.

  “I have,” Halpern said. “I reached out to her when I noticed increasing oddities about our current staff.”

  “So, then you know,” Dylan said. Julia pinched him, right at the center of his ribs, and Dylan yelped. “Well, she obviously does.” He scowled at her.

  “I know that there is some kind of scandal going on,” Halpern said. “I know that it involves the dean and a few of the professors here, and some relics that show up in the records—briefly—as missing from their cases, only to reappear.”

  “Ashbel is part of it,” Julia said. “I’m almost certain. I heard her talking on her phone.”

>   “Okay,” Halpern said. “Did you at least find out anything useful before you got yourself caught?”

  “Do you know anyone named Nolan?”

  “Cornelius Nolan?” Julia shrugged.

  Dylan frowned. The name sounded vaguely familiar, though he could not place it.

  “I just heard her mention a ‘Nolan’,” Julia replied. “She said, ‘Nolan will have it by tomorrow.’”

  “Cornelius Nolan is the son of Orion Nolan,” Halpern said. “Orion is one of the elders on the council, and a candidate for—do you know about your grandmother’s true rank?”

  Dylan’s eyes widened. “He’s trying to be the Rex Salamanders?”

  Halpern nodded in response to Dylan’s question.

  “There’s one already,” Halpern said, “But everyone who’s anyone of rank knows that Nuri is starting to go.”

  “But why would Cornelius want the relics?” Julia frowned and shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “If Dimitrios is stealing relics for him, and I don’t know that he is,” Halpern said, “then he might be using them to either enrich his house or boost his father’s power.”

  “What relics is he stealing?” Dylan glanced at Julia and then at the dean’s administrative assistant. Who would have thought that they could have just asked Mrs. Halpern? She might not have known—she didn’t know it was Nolan until Julia mentioned it.

  “It’s hard to say,” Halpern admitted. “But I managed to make some copies—quietly—of the objects that showed up in the system as being missing for just a brief period, before reappearing.” The older woman pressed her lips together. “But it’s not enough to prove anything.”

  “Is there a way to prove that the relics that ‘went missing’ and then were returned are duplicates?” Dylan felt his heart beat faster at Julia’s question. That was what everything hinged on, wasn’t it? Halpern looked at both of them for a long moment, and Dylan was certain the older woman was sizing them up.