by Ben Hale
Gathering every ounce of heat from the courtyard, he punched his fists together, and the ball of fire detonated into a firestorm. Windows shattered as the blast slammed into the buildings with brutal force. The wave of flame followed, causing bricks to crack and melt as the square was engulfed in heat. The Harbingers dived for cover, but many weren't quick enough. Shrieks filled the courtyard as they were engulfed in flames.
Harbingers on all sides screamed for help. Water mages fought to douse themselves as fire mages tried to pull the heat from their bodies. Both were having difficulty due to the intensity of Hawk's spell. The gravity mages were bellowing in pain, unable to end their own torment.
Hawk felt a twinge of regret—but not for what he'd inflicted. He wanted to fight them. After the atrocities they had committed they deserved nothing less. Abruptly Hawk was overcome by the murderous rage of his true self. These petty men had killed, tortured, and sought to harm the oracle's descendent. They had sought to destroy the peace of Lumineia that he had sworn to protect.
They deserved to fear.
Hawk issued his true war-cry, and the scream split the air with bone rattling intensity. It pierced the fire and struck his enemy, sending them trembling into huddled groups, the fire consuming their flesh momentarily forgotten. Then their courage failed them and they sought to flee.
Tumbling over each other in their effort to run, they ignored the fires that licked at their clothing. Hawk took a step in pursuit, ready to hunt them down and slaughter them . . . just as they had killed other good men and women. He had been too late to prevent that, and so he would kill each and every one of them—
Then he saw Reese's face. Horrorstruck, the man sat with his back to the wall, frozen in absolute terror. The sight caused Hawk to recall his purpose. He growled at how much he'd revealed of himself. His throat tightened and his anger evaporated. He strode to the man's side and killed the fire scorching his clothing.
"Who is your master?" Hawk demanded.
Reese flinched at his words and tried to push himself away, but there was nowhere to go. "What are you?"
Hawk grabbed his arm and forced the weasely man to face him. "Who leads the Harbingers!"
Reese wilted in the face of Hawk's words. "I'll tell . . . I'll tell, just don't do that again. His name—ˮ
Hawk heard the attack and spun to the side. A ball of fire streaked from his palms, but missed the blade by inches. Instead it curved past Hawk's body. A dull thud resounded in the square, and Hawk turned to see Reese fighting for breath, a blade sunk into his chest.
Hawk raised his gaze to the assassin, and saw the one with the mark standing on the roof. His hood obscured his features, but his lips were tight with fury. Hawk got some measure of satisfaction that the smug smile was gone. Then the man launched himself into the night sky. Alone, Hawk turned to Reese and heard him cough his final words.
". . . on the council. He's chancellor . . ."
He struggled to finish the statement, his eyes wide in fear and pain. Then his body quivered and went still. Hawk suppressed the surge of hate and anger. Then he crouched and closed his informant’s eyes. Taking solace in what he'd learned from the battle, he did his best to set aside his emotions. He turned to leave with regret heavy in his heart, and trudged through the scattered flames.
But regret couldn't alter his actions, so he sighed and slipped from the square. As he left through the alley he'd entered from, he extinguished the fires that were climbing the buildings. Steam, debris, and bodies littered the courtyard as he disappeared into the streets of London.
Auren sirens sounded as he escaped into the night.
Chapter 9: Iris
Tess awoke to find her roommate's face an inch from her own. Startled, she jerked to a sitting position as the girl withdrew.
"I didn't expect a roommate," the girl said, her eyes wide with excitement. "When did you get here?"
Tess stared at her, robbed of speech. The girl was trim, but not overly skinny, and was dressed in a combination of black, grey, and bright, vibrant purple. At one time the shirt had probably been a regular black t-shirt, and the jeans would have been fashionable. Overlaid on the normal clothing, a stunning purple swirled and spiked through the fabric, glowing every time she turned her head. Matching the clothing, her dark hair was also streaked with purple. Then there was the jacket.
It looked to be made of leather, but the black was more muted. The sleeves had been ripped off too, revealing her shirtsleeves and tanned arms. Complicated patterns of purple faded in and out of the dark material, shimmering into view and fading just as quickly. In any other setting Tess would have expected spiked hair, tattoos, and piercings. Instead her skin was clear, and her hair would have fit on an advertisement for shampoo.
Realizing she was staring, Tess blinked. "Last night," Tess said.
"My name's Iris," the girl said, and darted to her own bed. "I'm a techno mag."
Tess opened her mouth to respond, but Iris turned her head to the side and scowled.
"No, Jesse, I told you not to switch the laz with the coreless. It'll just mess you up."
"Er . . ." Tess said, but Iris had already turned back to her.
"Hungry? I'm hungry. Let's go eat!" Bounding off her bed, Iris arrived at the door and whirled. "You should get dressed first, though."
Stunned to silence, Tess changed while Iris spoke to a variety of different people. More often than not, she seemed to be scolding them.
"Is that you?" Tess asked. She pointed to the image on the wall above Iris's bed. The girl in her room was an older version of the child in the painting.
"Yes," Iris said, and skipped to her bed. "It's one of my favorite memories of my mom." She frowned, her eyes flicking to the empty painting above Tess's bed. "You can pick any memory you want to put in it, just make sure—Tong, I swear I will fry your system if you don't stop playing Halo. Yes, I know it's addictive—but that's no excuse."
Iris faced her desk and chewed out Tong for not paying attention. After a few seconds her gaze jerked back to Tess.
"Ready?" Iris asked.
Tess was still in the process of lacing her shoes, but she nodded, and Iris darted through the door. Hurrying to catch up, Tess tried to understand who Iris was talking to. By the time she reached the ground she'd overcome her surprise enough to be annoyed.
"Who are you talking to?" she asked. If Iris noticed the irritation in her voice, she gave no sign.
"My class, a professor, a few others," she said blithely. Then she looked away and sighed in exasperation. "Stop watching YouTube Malik, you're not paying attention either."
Unsure of what else to do, Tess followed Iris to the meal hall. On the way, she began to notice how many people had arrived throughout the night. Hundreds of teenagers strode through the paths, greeting each other and talking. Whereas the day before Tess had thought of the place as quiet and empty, it was now full and loud. The noise outside was nothing compared to the meal hall.
Her eyes widened as she entered the space. From the outside it had appeared to be one story, but upon entry it became obvious that it was partially underground and fashioned like a giant log cabin. The two girls stood on a balcony that wrapped around the room. Visible below them, curving trees grew straight from the floor to form tables and chairs. Students in varying stages of breakfast were talking and laughing.
Tess jumped when another girl strode to the edge of the balcony and leapt over the railing. She floated down with effortless grace and landed near the center, where students were filling their plates next to a collection of steaming cauldrons.
"Flyers." Iris blew out her breath. "What I wouldn't give to be one." Then she flashed Tess a look. "Except my magic. I mean, who would give up being a techno mag?"
Iris laughed at the absurdity of that idea and led the way to the bottom floor. She strode to a collection of smaller pots and selected a single cube from several of them. She mumbled under her breath as she did.
"Ah, let's see. French
toast for sure, maybe some raspberries and whipped cream to top them? Of course! Oh, and let's go with bacon, and a side of raspberry bread toast." Iris threw a look back at Tess with a conspiratorial grin. "I love the raspberry bread. You should try it."
Taking her cue from her, Tess chose the same meal and placed the small, soft cubes onto a plate. She then followed Iris to the steaming cauldrons. This close she saw the cauldrons bore twin slits on opposite sides. A small shelf protruded from below the opening, allowing Iris to place her plate onto it.
The cauldron sucked her plate in as she let go, and an instant later it ejected it out the opposite side—with the meal Iris had ordered on it. The heat of her French toast was already beginning to melt the whipped cream, and the raspberries looked as fresh as if they had been picked an hour ago.
Tess did the same, and jerked her hand back as the plate was sucked through the cauldron. Collecting the savory plate that appeared, she followed Iris toward a grouping of empty seats. She nodded to those that made eye contact with her, but paused to watch one wall spontaneously expand outward, giving more room to the students seeking chairs.
Of their own accord, trees grew from the new floor. Their trunks bent and flattened, forming tables and chairs. A woman wearing a green cloak and an eight-sided knot strolled through the room, making finishing touches even as students took advantage of the additional space.
"Coming?" Iris asked, pulling Tess from her astonishment.
Tess blinked and shook her head, and tried not to stare at the side room that had not been there before. In an effort to focus, she instead looked at the hundreds of students talking, laughing, and eating. In her previous school, Tess had at least understood the normal cliques—even if she had never really belonged to them. Here it seemed the regular rules of high school did not apply.
Knots of students conversed easily, and light-hearted banter appeared to be the norm. Despite the number of students, the environment reminded her of members of a team, united in friendship and purpose. Many wore apprentice knots for their colors, but their type of magic didn't seem to cause barriers. Rather it resulted in nothing more than casual teasing. If there were outcasts among the social groups they had yet to arrive.
Her gaze on the milling students, Tess joined Iris at a side table and sat in a surprisingly comfortable seat. Before she'd taken her first bite another person joined them, and sank onto a bench across from her. "Sis, who's the newcomer?" he asked.
"New roommate," Iris said brightly. "She doesn't talk much." Then she turned to the wall and laughed as if someone had just told a joke.
"I'm Derek," he said. He offered his hand and a look of sympathy. "She didn't let you talk, did she?"
Tess laughed and shook her head, privately labeling him a decent guy. He was trim in his build, but not scrawny, and would probably stand a few inches taller than her. Tousled brown hair on most boys would have seemed unruly, but on him gave the impression of self-assurance. The coloring certainly matched his eyes.
"Is she always like this?" Tess said in an aside.
He grinned and nodded. "Ever since I can remember. We dropped her stuff off a few days ago and then I took her on a tour of the city. Sorry if she woke you. We got in pretty late."
"So it's not your first year?"
He jerked his head in the negative, and answered through a mouthful of potatoes. "Second year," he said, and then swallowed. "Fourth quad. I'm an earth and stone mag, you?"
"Fire, gravity, and water," Tess said. She took a bite of her food, and almost missed his reply because of its flavor. Iris had been right, the raspberry bread was delicious.
"A split tri-mag?" he said, arching an eyebrow. "Interesting. That's not very common. Auren or mage born?"
She was saved from answering by Iris's pealing laughter. "Wrong side of the mind, huh. Too bad, but at least you can fly down to meals when you learn." Then she frowned. "I could have sworn I put one there." She slapped the wall, and then resumed eating as if nothing had occurred.
Derek rolled his eyes. "Don't ask me why she does that. I have no idea."
"What does she mean, wrong side of the mind?"
"Gravity and technology are both branches of mind magic," he said. "but you never find someone who can do both. I've heard a variety of theories, but most just say they operate from different sides of the brain." He shrugged. "If you ask me, flying is the better of the two."
"As if!" Iris scoffed, and then her eyes glazed. "Drat it all, I'm late again. I'll catch up with you guys later. See you at lunch, Tess?"
For the first time it seemed Iris was relatively normal. With her eyes open and questioning, she sat waiting for an answer. Tess didn't have the heart to say no. As her roommate walked away Tess sighed, but decided it could have been worse.
"She's actually really nice," Derek said, his voice apologetic. "If you can get her to focus. It's one of the down sides of being a techno mag."
In that moment Tess realized that Iris had not worn glasses the entire time. Turning to Derek, she said, "Techno mages don't use the spectacles?"
He shook his head. "They don't need 'em. With their magesight, they can see every live signal in the air. It's why they are so distracted all the time." He pointed to an overweight boy that was shoveling food into his mouth while his eyes stared in space, glazed and lifeless. "More often than not they end up sucked into video games or watching TV. It takes discipline for them to pay attention to anything else."
"At least Iris doesn't do that," Tess said.
His expression lightened. "True—and she's a genius. She's starting her first quad with you, but she has already been asked to assist one of the professors with a project. She also teaches classes for younger students from all over the world. I can only imagine how good she will be by the time she graduates."
"Do we really take classes year-round?" she asked. "There's no summer break?"
He shook his head. "Nope. Twelve weeks to each quad, and a one week recess between them. Mid-term is the only holiday. We get Friday and Monday off for a long weekend."
"Isn't that excessive?"
He shrugged. "You can always request to be excused from a quad if you want, but I don't know anyone who ever has. Most students want to learn their magic." He flashed a crooked grin. "The basic courses like Magical History and Remedial Magic are another story. Everyone fights to get out of those."
He swallowed his last bite and gestured to her plate. "Finished? We should hurry or we will be late to class, and the teachers are brutal with tardiness."
His expression was sufficient for her to hurry. She downed the last few morsels in a rush, unwilling to leave anything on the plate. Then she rose and followed Derek to the rear of the room. A trio of blue cauldrons stood, the scent of steam and soap coming from them.
"We have to do our own dishes," Derek said with a laugh, and pushed his plate into the slot of one of them. A blast of water sounded, followed by the clean plate clattering out the opposite side. He placed it on the stack of others and waited for her to do the same.
"Does it ever get old?" Tess asked as they walked up the stairs and outside. "I mean, all of this . . ."
He laughed lightly, and said, "I guess it becomes normal at some point. Iris and I are mage born, but the stuff they have here is incredible. It took us twice as long to do the dishes growing up." His eyes twinkled, and Tess was grateful for how easy the crooked grin blossomed on his face.
He turned to leave, but stopped and called over his shoulder. "Good luck with your first classes, Tess. I will see you at lunch. I'd walk you—but then I would be late . . ."
"And I hear the teachers are brutal with tardiness," Tess said with a smile.
Derek laughed and strolled away. Tess watched him go with a twinge of regret. It would have been nice to have a friend in one of her classes.
With a sigh she donned her spectacles and activated the thread that would take her to her first class. Exiting the dormitories, she strode through the morning light towar
d the general magic building. Although she wanted to meet other mages, a sense of nervousness stilled her tongue as she walked through pockets of other students.
Largely ignored, she retraced her path from the previous night, and walked past the light school and Star Hall. Then she continued toward the building that stood opposite the World Room. Although it was identical to the World Room on the exterior, the interior couldn't have been more different.
A center corridor led straight through the building. Glass walls stood on either side, allowing for an uninterrupted view of the mini-amphitheatres behind them. Students filled the seats, and professors were beginning their lectures in some.
Tess's path took her to the third door on the right. Stepping through the opening, she descended the slope and took a seat halfway down the enormous classroom. The room was sparsely furnished, but its walls showed symbols and runes. When she entered it was almost full, but a few stragglers found seats until the professor appeared through a rear door. Stepping to a large podium, he addressed the group.
"As it will show on your glasses, I am Professor Seibold. Welcome to Remedial Magic. This course will give you an introduction to the magic world and help you understand the basic laws that apply to magekind and magic in general. For those of you who know more about the mage world some of this will be obvious, but not all. Just know that you can sleep as much as you want in this class—but if you fail, you will have to take it again on your next quad. I once had a student for a year and half. Let's hope none of you follow in his erroneous footsteps."
The students shifted uncomfortably but no one responded. The man was older, and boasted a well trimmed, white goatee. His hair matched, but his face was not as wrinkled as Tess would have expected. As she'd come to think of as the required clothing for faculty, his attire included a cloak around his thin shoulders. Dark blue and long, it nearly touched the floor. His gaze was piercing through his glasses, and for some reason it reminded Tess of her mother.
"Now," Professor Seibold began, pacing to the side. "We'll start with some basics. I recommend you activate the note taking charm of your omni-glasses or you may struggle with the first test."