Brighten was confused for a second, not understanding the direction to keep quiet and then being asked a question. After a moment, he came to the conclusion that Belarus was not a smart man.
He smiled at that.
“What’s your name?” the boy next to Brighten asked.
“Jenkins,” Brighten replied without hesitation. He hadn’t given his real name to a stranger in years.
“How far along are you with magic?”
Oh, help me, Father, he thought, almost physically cringing at the question.
“Far enough to be here.” He didn’t hang out with these kids, and he didn’t know how to act around them.
But the answer seemed to suffice. “I’m Lionel, and I can tell ya one thing—that guy Belarus is a damn ass.”
Brighten smiled. They could definitely agree on that.
“I don’t know who he thinks he is, but he looks like he fell off the ugly tree and hit every damn branch on the way down, ya know what I mean?”
Brighten nodded. “It was a tall tree, too.”
Lionel chuckled. “That’s a good one. Look at his hand, man. All bandaged up but acting like he can kick our ass. Probably got beat up by a girl.”
“Nah, probably just broke it wiping his ass.”
“Ha!” Lionel actually laughed. “You’re funny. I haven’t seen you around. Where you been training at?”
The good thing about stealin’ for a livin’? You understood every part of the city. Every nook and cranny. Every magic shop.
He just had to hope this kid didn’t train at the same one.
“Chester’s,” Brighten answered.
“Ah, I went there when I was younger. A good chap, Chester. Just sucks that all these guys are losin’ their businesses, and here we are ushered into some class we don’t know nothin’ about.”
Brighten had never disliked the kids from the middle and upper classes. He never trusted them, though. This kid, however, seemed to be…nervous, just like Brighten.
You use marks, you don’t befriend them. He could hear himself saying that to Kris, and quickly shut down any feelings of kindness.
“There he is,” Lionel stated
Brighten saw him—a tall man, older but not elderly.
Belarus gave him a wide berth and clearly showed deference.
“You ever seen this guy?” Lionel asked.
Brighten shook his head. “No, never.”
“Me either. He hasn’t been in any magic shops around here. I’ve been to them all over the years.” Lionel didn’t trust this headmaster, and Brighten couldn’t help but identify with that.
He didn’t trust the man either.
“Welcome,” the stranger started. “My name is Rendal Hemmons, and I’m the headmaster of the Prefect’s new school. It’s an honor to be here, and I’m hoping that very soon I get to work with all of you on a personal level.”
“What are those?” Brighten whispered, unable to help himself.
“What?” Lionel asked.
“The bracelets on his arms. What are those?”
Lionel was quiet for a moment, clearly having not seen them. “I…I don’t know. Never seen anything like them.”
The headmaster’s eyes caught Brighten’s and held them for a second. “You all are supposed to be the best of the best, and that’s why the Prefect summoned you first. You’re going to become the greatest mages this kingdom has ever seen.”
“Why aren’t we allowed to train with our old teachers?” someone shouted from the front.
The headmaster turned his head to the boy and smiled. “You liked your old teacher, huh?”
“Yeah. He was really good,” the kid answered, clearly not feeling threatened.
“You want to go back to him?” the headmaster asked.
“Yeah. I don’t know why I’m here.”
Rendal nodded. “Sure, then, head on back. We won’t make you stay.”
“What about the proclamation?” the kid asked. “Ralph already shut down his damn shop.”
Rendal chuckled and looked at Belarus, who was standing just off stage. “His damn shop. Do you hear that, Belarus?”
“I did, bos—headmaster. Despicable.”
The kid was more nervous now than he had been moments before.
Rendal turned back to the kid. “Well, that’s right. The shop has shut down. I hadn’t thought of that… What’s your name again?”
“Sal,” the kid answered.
“I hadn’t thought of that, Sal,” the headmaster said. “But you’re right, the shops are all closed. Thanks to our glorious Prefect, we now have a school that focuses on creating the greatest mages in the world instead of a bunch of tiny schools teaching their own kinds of magic. We have an academy that’s going to make you warrior mages.”
“Warrior mages?” Brighten whispered, turning to Lionel. “You ever heard of such a thing?”
Lionel shook his head. “No. Why would Sidnie need warrior mages? We’ve never been to war.”
“Sal,” the headmaster continued, “since you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to be. Belarus, please show this student to the door.”
“Be my pleasure.” Belarus stepped forward.
“No, no. I didn’t mean that. I want to be here. I just… I just—” The kid couldn’t think of what he was “just” trying to say.
Belarus hopped off the platform and walked to the front row. He grabbed the kid with his good hand, lifting him up by the back of his collar.
“You look like a rich boy,” the headmaster observed. He glanced at Belarus. “If his parents try to raise a fuss, send them directly to me. He’s out, and he’s not coming back.”
“Yes, headmaster. Understood.” Belarus grinned as he spoke.
Rendal looked at the kid once more. “We’ll see how you like going through life knowing no more magic than what you know right now. How’s that sound?”
The kid was blubbering. Begging to be allowed to stay.
“This is brutal,” Lionel whispered.
Both of them understood what was happening, the same as the kid down there did. He’d spoken up, saying he didn’t want to be here, and now he wouldn’t be.
Without anyone teaching magic in the kingdom, his skills might never improve. For all intents and purposes, his magic might be as good as it was ever going to be.
That sentence sent Brighten’s mind down other paths. Only the people in this place would learn magic, and only at the hands of this man. Magic had been free for all who could use it for so long in Sidnie…
“But that ain’t the case any longer,” he thought aloud.
“Huh?” Lionel asked.
“Nothing. We better shut up before we’re thrown out next.”
“You’re smarter than ya look, Jenkins.” Lionel actually appeared frightened.
But then so did the rest of the kids in the auditorium as they listened to Sal’s cries echo off the ceiling. They were all realizing just how much Sidnie had changed in a matter of days.
Kris looked like a teenage chef, although the clothes were too baggy. She hadn’t heard anyone running down the halls looking for her while she changed. She imagined the kitchen staff thought she was some homeless kid playing a prank.
If they reported the break-in the guards would get in trouble, then the guards might make kitchen life hell.
Kris was just glad they weren’t coming for her.
Now to get to the top of the tower.
The castle was large, and although a lot of people worked in it, there were still many empty hallways. Kris slipped down them, hardly making any noise.
The apron and chef’s outfit were insurance.
It took her five minutes at a fast jog to reach the base of the tower. There were two entrances to it—the tower stood high above the castle, but at its base, there was an entrance both inside and out.
Kris reached the massive room that held the base of the tower. A guard stood on either side of the door, which was closed.
&nbs
p; She peered around the corner at them, but they were beyond lackadaisical, like the guards outside.
They weren’t sitting down, but they were leaning against the concrete blocks behind them.
“We’re gonna get replaced,” the shorter one said. “Sure as my fuckin’ name’s Sam, we’re gonna get replaced.”
“Yer name ain’t Sam,” the taller one responded with a slight grin.
“Just testin’ ya, but what I say still stands. We’re gonna get fired, and most likely sooner rather than later.”
“Who’s gonna replace us?” the taller one asked. “This job sucks donkey balls, and you know it. Ya stand here guardin’ this tower as if someone’s gonna try to sack it, and ya do it for twelve damned hours.” He shook his head. “Who else is gonna come in here and do this?”
“I know you heard the rumors,” the short one responded. “About those men on the ships. The ones wearin’ the necklaces. They’re the ones about to take our places.”
“I hear them rumors, but I ain’t seen none of ‘em. Just a bunch of scared housewives gossipin’ if you ask me,” the second one grumbled.
Okay, enough. Get on with it, Kris thought.
What’s your plan? Brighten’s voice challenged.
She didn’t really have one, and that was the fuckin’ problem. Last time she and Brighten had worked together to distract the guards, but now it was just her.
To hell with it, she thought. She never planned much anyway. Why start now?
She stepped out from behind the doorway and entered the circular room.
“Hiya, fellas. Been summoned upstairs.” Kris grinned as if she had every right in the world to be there.
“From the kitchen?” the short guard asked.
“You’re a bright one,” Kris shot back. “What gave it away? The apron, or the chef’s uniform?”
“Watch it, soup girl,” the tall one snapped, “or you’ll be the mystery meat tomorrow.”
“I’m just playin’, gents. The Prefect asked me to check on his guests’ food upstairs, so I gotta get up there for a few minutes.” Kris didn’t drop her smile, but she knew she needed to drop the dickhead comments.
“We ain’t hear nothin’ ‘bout it,” the taller one remarked.
“Nah,” Kris answered, “ya wouldn’t have, because he just told me a few minutes ago. I was servin’ him his food, and he asked me to come check. Told me to get back with him when I finished.”
“The Prefect said that?” The short one’s eyes were narrow, his voice skeptical. Kris knew why, of course. From everything she’d heard, the Prefect was basically stumbling around like a shell of himself.
He wasn’t askin’ nobody to do nothin’.
Yet, here Kris was with a lie she had to keep forcing.
“Sure did. If you want to go check with him, feel free. I’ll wait here while you go ask the Prefect to repeat himself to a lowly sentry. Either of you mugs got a cig I can smoke while you’re doin’ it?”
The sentries looked at each other, then the big one shrugged and the little one grinned.
“Go on, soup girl. Try not to hurt yourself on the stairs.”
Kris kept her mouth shut, although she wanted to say something.
She was getting what she wanted, though—and that was all that mattered.
Kris walked between the two guards and started up the spiraling stairs. She moved quickly and silently, but when the stairs kept going higher, she found herself short of breath.
There was a fuckin’ lot of them.
Finally, though, Kris reached the top.
“Never again,” she whispered, completely out of breath. “Brighten’s right. I’m never doing this again.”
Last time, this was where she and Brighten had stopped. Now, though, she had to go inside and find out what other information she could.
You’ve found out enough, she thought. You know more now than anyone back at the shanty does. You don’t need to go inside. Just turn around and head back down.
Then why the hell did ya come up here? Get yer ass inside and quit bein’ scared.
Whatever was going on in Sidnie, people weren’t dying. She wasn’t going to be killed here. She might get a few days in the stocks or something, but that was it.
“Death ain’t on the other side of this door,” she whispered, steeling herself.
On her last word, the door opened.
A man stood in front of her. He wore a sword and no smile.
“It just might be, little girl. How about you come in and find out?”
Kris tried to run; she turned, but the man was much too quick.
He grabbed her shirt and yanked her in the room.
“My name’s Harold. Nice to meet you.”
He slugged Kris in the face, and the world went dark.
Brighten was exhausted as he made his way across the city. The magic school had stretched late into the night, the mage apparently needing no sleep.
One kid had complained about the late hour, but that ended quickly when Rendal had him tossed out just like the first one.
There were no more complaints.
He and Kris had agreed to meet back at the shanty, so he didn’t bother looking on the streets for her. She should have been back long before him. Making it to the tower was dangerous, but it was relatively quick.
He reached the shanty about four in the morning.
William sat inside, using a whetstone to sharpen his sword. Erin lay with her back to him, apparently asleep—though Brighten couldn’t understand how anyone could sleep with that going on.
William looked up. “You two find anything?”
Brighten’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s Kris?”
“With you, ain’t she?” William asked. He stopped sharpening his sword.
“No. We split up. I went into the magic school, and she went to the castle.”
Erin started blinking, and Lucie came out of the back room.
Brighten had missed Verith on entering, but saw the man stand up from a cot.
“She ain’t back yet.” William stared at Brighten, his face unreadable. “Why did ya split up?”
“She should be here. She should have been here hours ago.” Brighten’s anxiety was quickly ramping up.
“She ain’t, son. I been up all night waitin’ for you two little ingrates. Nobody’s come.” William stood up. “When was the last time ya saw her?”
“Before I went to the damned magic school!” Brighten shouted, tears flooding his eyes.
Lucie walked quickly across the room and put her arms on him. “Hey, there, it’s okay. That girl is as fast as anyone I’ve ever seen, ‘cept maybe for my friend Riley. Ain’t nobody got ahold of her.”
Brighten shook his head. “No. She would be back by now. There’s no way she’s still at the castle, and there’s no way she would have gone anywhere else.”
William walked over, and his voice was calm when he spoke. “You say she should be back. You sure about that, son? I need to know the truth, not what fear is tellin’ ya.”
Brighten nodded. “Yes. There’s no way she’s not back.”
William sighed and looked at Lucie. “You need to just start listenin’ to me. That’s the new rule: what William says goes. Understand?”
“That’s what we need,” Lucie remarked. “The dumbest among us making all decisions. I’d rather just walk to the castle and tell Rendal to kill me.” She turned to Brighten and winked. “I’m still makin’ decisions, and right now, I’m tellin’ ya, William is going to go see what’s what with Kris. He’ll get her back if she’s been taken, okay?”
“I’m only agreein’ because that’s exactly what I was about to tell the kid. The rule still stands—what I say goes.” He gave Brighten a slight smirk, and some of the boy’s worries dissipated.
The man was huge, and his confidence was catching.
“You need to toughen up, lad.” The big man tightened his grip on Brighten’s shoulder. “So you’re comin’ with me. And while you�
�re at it, you’re gonna tell me all about this little magic school.”
“What are we going to do?” Brighten swallowed.
“I thought you were smarter than that, boy. If you say she went to the castle and didn’t come out, where do you think we should look for her?” William asked.
“You’re not smarter than you look,” Brighten shot back. “There ain’t no way you’re getting in them gates. Her and I did because we have a hookup and because we’re small and fast. Or at least she is. You go anywhere near that place and you’ll be arrested. If you are who you say you are, they’ll kill you.”
William looked at Lucie. “This is your doin’, ya know that? Ya got him thinkin’ like a scared woman only a few days after meetin’ him.”
Lucie rolled her eyes but said nothing.
William looked at Verith. “You goin’ or stayin’?”
“I’ll stay in case something happens here. Two of us going won’t do much.”
“Smart man,” William responded and looked at Brighten. “Time to grow a pair of balls, kid. Let’s go get your friend back.”
Rendal came back to the tower in good spirits. The first night of class had gone well, and he was beginning to organize what he would do with the teenagers.
Tomorrow the castle might hear from a few parents about their precious little ones being removed from the school, but Rendal was about to implement phase two of his plan.
Phase two meant no more complaints.
He’d start that tomorrow.
Rendal opened the door to the room at the top of the tower, walked in, and immediately stopped. “What is this?”
A young girl sat in front of him, an ugly bruise on the side of her face.
“We had some company while you were gone, sir,” Harold answered. He stood behind the wet bar, a glass of whiskey untouched in front of him. He gestured to it.
Rendal crossed the room and took the drink. He kept his eyes on the girl, and she stared back.
He took a sip and asked Harold, “So, who is this?”
“I don’t know her name, but she is stubborn. Won’t say a word to me,” Harold answered. “I thought about hurting her a bit more, but then figured I would just let you see her.”
Rendal looked at Mason. “You know her?”
Chasing Magic (Hand Of Justice Book 2) Page 17