by Ben Hale
"Fine," he said, blowing out his breath. "Give her ten percent."
"Will that work for you?" Laura asked.
"Er . . . I didn't really give you anything," Tess said uncertainly, but Mike waved her protest off.
"Nonsense. Laura's right—as always. We'll transfer it by tonight."
What if it was discovered she had been involved in gambling? Her caution told her to say no, but she couldn't bring herself to deny them.
"That's fine," she said, and they both beamed at her.
"Mike . . . Laura," Drake said, striding up to join them. He smiled at Tess, but his expression was pure ice to the couple.
"Hey, it's the Big Head," Mike threw his arms out wide in welcome.
"How are the pants?" Laura asked. Her voice oozed false concern. Tess had to tighten her lips to prevent a smile.
Drake scowled at them, and pointedly caught Tess's hand. Turning his back on them, he led Tess back into the stadium.
"Sorry it took so long," he said. "I had to wait until everyone left."
"How do you know Mike and Laura?" she asked.
"Just shared a class once," Drake said cooly, but his eyes darkened the same way they had to the kid in gravity class.
There was an awkward silence for a moment, and then Drake visibly changed his attitude. "Are you ready?"
"For what?" she asked, curious despite herself.
His eyes sparkled with anticipation. "You'll see."
He led her to the shield, and then through it. She feigned nonchalance as she did, but inside her heart was battering her ribs. It felt like pushing her way through a layer of cold jello. Drake had also not released her hand, which may have contributed to her irregular heart rate.
There were no stairs on the other side, but rather than fly to the shelf below, Drake stepped off the ledge. She stepped off with him, and together they were caught in a well that slowed their fall. The rune they were descending toward lit up with purple lines until they touched down. He yanked her away the movement they did.
"This is where we train for games," he said with a flourish.
The shelf that she'd noticed from above led to a wide opening. Embedded below the stands, the vast hallway had numerous doors on either side, and was well lit by a band of light next to the ceiling.
"What's in there?" she asked, and pointed toward a large, black door.
He grinned and led her inside. "That holds the school air boards. Most mages would not stoop to theft, but flyer boards are extremely expensive. We'll come back to that after I show you everything else." He pulled her along and gestured to the doors as they passed them.
"That's the bath facilities and the private recreation rooms. On the right is the training room, which we use to practice lifting larger and larger weights. At the end is the Leadership Chamber, where we plan the strategies for our games. It has lightcast models for every constellation, plus a few other features."
"What do you mean, lightcast?"
"Better if I show you," he replied, and led her to the end of the hall. He opened the door and stepped through, but he stopped as a person whirled to face him.
"Shorn, what are you still doing here?" Drake demanded.
The muscled lieutenant that Tess had seen earlier flushed and waved his hand at the table in front of him, erasing the image that had been displayed. A mountain fashioned from lines of white light faded from view.
"Captain, I wasn't aware that you needed the room," he said. "Or that you had a guest."
The way he referred to Tess caused Drake to bristle. "Lieutenant, you are dismissed. I will see you tomorrow for practice."
Shorn's jaw went rigid, but he gave a curt bow and swept from the room. As he went, it seemed he tried to hide his hand from Tess's view. The movement caught her eye, and she noticed the mark. Burned into his flesh, a line had been seared across his hand. The image tugged at her memory. It felt like a thought was on the tip of her mental tongue, but refused her effort to recall it. Then Drake sighed, pulling her from her reverie.
"Sorry about that," he said. "Shorn is one of the best of my team. He's even a split tri-mag. Grav and air are what he's best at though. He's helped us win some key games."
"Who do you play against?" Tess asked. "Or does Tryton’s have more than one team?"
He shook his head. "We play the other schools."
"How many schools are there?" Tess asked, and imagined a flock of giant, floating cities like Auroraq.
"Six, in fact," he said. "Two of which are underground. One is in the deep north, and has snow almost year round. Another is on an island out in the middle of the Pacific. Most of the time they are our main rivals. The furthest from here is in the mountains of southern China. And then there is the one in Europe. It's in a forgotten castle, and is probably the best academically aside from Tryton’s."
"How many students are in them?" Tess asked.
He shrugged and ran his hand along the smooth surface of the enormous table. "It varies, but none are as large as Tryton’s. It's a big reason why we have the best record in Tempest."
Tess fell silent, her mind struggling to comprehend the shift in her perspective. For some reason she'd thought that Auroraq contained the majority of mages. She blinked, realizing that when her identity was revealed, the other schools would have their opinions as well.
A flickering of white light brought her gaze to the table, where strands of energy had begun to curve and touch in the air. They merged to become planets, stars, and asteroids of the constellation she'd seen earlier. At a touch Drake sent the lightcast model into a slow spin.
"It's beautiful," Tess said as the ringed planet moved across her field of vision.
"I know," he said with a smug grin. "If the stone mages are the construction workers, then light mages are the architects. Beautiful things are designed with light before they are built with stone—except with you, of course."
"How often have you used that line?" she asked with a frown.
He laughed and waved at the table, dismissing the image. "I've saved the best for last," he said, and then led her from the chamber. Tess's hand tingled as he once again caught her palm in his.
He led her to the black door, and then placed his hand against its surface. It glowed and clicked. Then it swung open, revealing a long hallway with liquid silver boards placed vertically on both sides.
He gestured to them with a knowing smile. "Care to take a look?"
"What do you think?"
He laughed at her sarcasm and led the way down the hall. "These are basic air boards, which just means they have the standard enchantments to protect a flyer, but nothing more. We are allowed to use our own if we want, but only if they are certified by an official prior to a game."
"Aren't they expensive?"
"That's why most players use the school boards. Ours are decent for speed and acceleration, and about the best that the game allows anyway."
She leaned in to examine the surface of one, and grinned at her faint reflection on its surface. "It must be incredible to use."
"Pick one," he said, "and then I will show you how to use it."
She spun to face him. "Could I? I haven't earned my second knot." She couldn't keep the thrill of anticipation from her voice. Upon hearing it, Drake grinned.
"You have your grav knot, and I am an assistant professor. You should be fine."
She grinned back, and began to walk down the line. "Which should I choose?”
He eyed them critically. "I would suggest a battle flyer's board since you can do fire. It would suit you better. Just look for a trace of red with your magesight."
She scanned a few, and then picked one with a more tapered shape. Although it appeared made of liquid silver, it was actually fairly solid, and almost sticky, as if her hand had suddenly become magnetic.
Drake grinned at her choice. "Nice, but that's Shorn's board, and made for speed flyers."
"Should I choose another?" She didn't like the idea of taking his board without asking.
>
"It will probably be too fast for you. Why don't you try Natalie's?" he said, and gestured to the one beside it. Once she took it he led her outside. "You ready?"
He grabbed his own board and led her back to the shelf. Tossing it off the ledge he jumped after it. He landed neatly and curved the board out of its fall. Skidding to an aerial stop beside her, he said, "Have you ever been on a snowboard or a surfboard? Skateboarding is close, but not quite the same."
"I went snowboarding a few times when I was younger. The snow was terrible, though."
He smirked and motioned to the board. "I think you'll find this to be a step up. Just stand on it like you would a snowboard."
She tried to lay it on the ground but it refused, and remained floating at her knees. Cautiously, she placed one foot near the center. The liquid silver stuck to her foot quite solidly, and stayed in position as she raised her left foot as well.
Drake glided in a lazy circle around her, eyeing the placement of her feet. "You're centered pretty well. Just move your feet a little farther apart and you should be fine." After she did as suggested, he nodded in satisfaction. "Ready?"
"How does it move?"
"It's just like flying," he said, "only better."
He grinned and curved away. Twenty feet away he swerved and hovered. "Coming?" he asked. A teasing grin spread on his face.
Tess turned her attention to the board at her feet, but glanced over the ledge. It was at least fifty feet to the bottom of the arena, so a fall would be fatal. She steeled herself with the reminder that if she fell off the board, she could fly on her own. With that thought she sent a fraction of her magic into the board.
The response was instantaneous with her thought, and the board glided away from the arena shelf. Light reflected off its silver surface as she moved, reminding her of the sun on a lake. Pleased with how easy it had been, she poured more of her power into the board, and it accelerated. A grin blossomed on her face as she leaned forward and sent it rocketing away from the wall.
Like a bullet from a gun she exploded past Drake and under the Tempest sun. The speed took her by surprise—but not enough to cause her to slow down. The first time she'd flown it had felt like the essence of grace. Flying with a board was a thousand times better. Her whole body tingled with delight as the wind whipped her hair into a cascade of brown.
Before she knew it she'd crossed the arena, and banked into a curve. The board wobbled a little, but her memory of snowboarding kicked in and she leveled out, going parallel to the opposite wall. She began to laugh and swerved her board into a few experimental turns.
Each adjustment felt natural, like curving through a stand of trees. The turns sapped her momentum, as if the air held more resistance than normal. She figured that had something to do with the enchantment on the board.
Her confidence grew, and her smile with it. Accelerating into the turn at the north end, she followed the shield wall until she was facing the shelf she'd left from. Her pealing laughter was dampened when she saw Drake's face.
Throughout her flight he hadn't moved, but his expression was neither astonishment nor excitement. Instead his eyes had narrowed, and there was no trace of a smile. Taken aback by his look she slowed her pace, but his features had already dissolved into a grin. The transition was so fast that by the time she blinked he appeared normal.
He sped out to intercept her. "You look like a bird who just realized it has wings," he said. "How does it feel?"
Unable to shake the image of his expression, she replied with a snort, "And I thought flying was freedom." Was he forcing his smile?
He swept his hand at the arena. "This is what flyers were made for, and the way you take to a board makes me think you will own this game after I am gone."
They were gliding a short distance apart, but when he swung closer she jerked away. His eyebrows twitched at her movement, but he didn't comment on it.
"This is my last quad," he said. "I'm what the aurens would call a graduating senior." He threw her a sideways look and then added, "Now . . . why don't we see what you can really do?"
As he finished the statement he twisted around—and then rolled into a slow corkscrew that carried him over her head. Throughout the backward maneuver, he stared her in the face, the challenge inherit in his features.
Casually swinging into a stop on her opposite side he swept a hand at her in invitation. In spite of her hesitation, she couldn't bring herself to resist the challenge. Gathering her courage, she flipped herself over him.
She overcompensated, and nearly struck him with the side of her board. He dodged easily and laughed, and then suggested she fly less with her body and more with her board.
"Imagine the board is doing the work, not you. Let it do the flying."
She nodded and tried again, and grinned wide as she turned into a slow roll over his head. He held her gaze the whole way, and her heart fluttered in her chest. Perhaps she'd just misread his earlier expression . . .
Next he led her into a forward flip, which was harder on the board because you had to anticipate where you were landing. He then demonstrated a back-flip and pulled his body into a graceful loop, flying higher than he had before. She grinned and followed suit, relishing the challenging maneuvers. After several more they ended up hovering above the center sun.
Both were breathing hard at the exertion, but the easy smile seemed to have returned to Drake's face. Spinning in a tightening circle, he brushed the hair from her face.
"You're amazing, do you know that?"
She laughed, hiding her nervousness. "That's debatable. Now I just need to learn how to master fire and I would be fine."
Her arms twitched and she almost ignited fire onto her forearms. At the last instant she recalled Hawk's warning and stopped. Then she had another idea. "Why don't you loan me your gauntlets and I can try it?"
"Er . . . not this time," Drake said, his eyes tightening with reluctance. "How about we leave that lesson for another day."
She nodded, but he must have seen the disappointment in her face. In a single move he reached around her waist and yanked her to him. She gasped in surprise as her feet left her board and landed on his. As her own board tumbled away he flicked his wrist toward it, and a ball of flame closed the distance. It turned dark from the heat and angled toward the shelf.
"Next time," he said, his face inches from hers. "I will show you more."
She swallowed reflexively and stared up into his eyes, sensing his desire to kiss her. Did she want that? Why didn't she trust him? The conflicting emotions held her fast as he began to lean in. Then, just as their lips brushed, she glanced over his shoulder and saw Shorn leaning against the stands, his face an inscrutable mask as he stared at them. The sight was enough of a distraction that she jerked away.
Drake's look of annoyance flustered her further, so she flashed him a small smile. "Next time, then."
With that, she kicked off his board and soared away. She didn't look back until she was outside the shield. He hadn't moved, but Shorn had. She scanned the dark stands for signs of movement, but the cloaked figure had disappeared. Frowning to herself, she curved toward the dormitories in the distance. It wasn't until she was almost there that she made the connection.
And realized where Shorn had received his scar.
Chapter 18: The Swordsman
The Swordsman watched over cabin 313, checking for any signs of attack. His hide had been in place before Tess had even arrived, and every night since he'd been inside it. By daylight he slept, and throughout the night he kept watch. Exercising the rigid self-control he'd gained in the battlemage corps, he stayed focused. He'd learned well that vigilance was the key to defending someone—even if he'd learned it from the opposite side.
It had been seven years since he had been dismissed from the corps, but the charge of 'excessive use of force' still rankled. He knew the men he'd killed had deserved it. His superiors had known, too—so why had he been punished so severely? His lips tight
ened as he scanned the exterior of the darkened cabin.
For the hundredth time he tried to convince himself that it had been for the best. Within a year he had become one of the highest paid assassins in the mage world, in spite of his primary rule. He only killed if the target deserved it. On multiple occasions he'd turned down offers because the soon-to-be-dead did not meet his qualifications.
Part of him missed those first few years. Business had been good and he'd been able to forget his parents scorn for his dismissal. That had all changed when he'd learned who he was working for—and how they had deceived him.
As a rule, he and the handful of other assassins knew little of their employers, but after several successful contracts the Swordsman had gotten curious. It turned out the Harbingers did not care for his curiosity, and had sought to terminate him. Hawk had saved his life, and had informed him that many of his contracts from the Harbingers had been for good people.
The Swordsman had never felt such fury in his life. He had been used, and had been manipulated to break his code. Without Hawk convincing him to wait, his anger would have gotten him killed. He'd refused the invitation to join the Guild but still felt he owed the man. That—and his desire to kill Harbingers—had brought him to his current position.
As his thoughts turned to his hiding spot, he checked the fabric that surrounded his platform. As he touched the material, it rippled a dull green and brown. On the outside it appeared as any other section of trunk and leaves. On the inside, he had a clear view of cabin 313.
The obscurity shroud had cost him a fortune, but it had been worth it. It had certainly made this assignment easier, especially since he wasn't getting paid for it. Still, the chance to sink his sword into a few Harbingers was enough reward.
He grunted and scratched the back of his hand, wishing for some action. The size of his platform afforded enough space to practice basic maneuvers, but little else. He considered watching a movie, but knew that would only distract him. Instead, he scanned the cabin again. Roof, walls, balcony, door, all were clear. He slipped into his magesight and looked at the front and rear entry points. Faint purple lines indicated a techno mage had placed additional protections on the doors and windows, but his skill wasn't sufficient to figure out what.