“You want me to fight…a girl?”
Kwai-Lan arched a brow. “Are you afraid you might lose?”
Brandt grimaced. “No.”
“Very well.” Kwai-Lan turned toward the students. “Relax, everyone. It appears we have ourselves a little diversion today. Brandt and Quinn have agreed to provide our instruction.”
“I have?” Quinn said.
“I believe you are perfect for this particular lesson, Quinn. In fact, I would like to see you two spar on the platform.” The man pointed up toward the lowest crossbeam of the Jungle, standing ten feet above the Atrium floor.
Quinn nodded. “Fine.”
Brandt stared up at the platform, the arrogance absent from his expression.
“Are you having doubts, Mister Talenz?” Kwai-Lan asked.
“No.” Brandt shook his head. “Of course, not. Let’s do it.”
Without a word, Quinn gripped the nearest rope and began to scale it hand over hand. When she cleared the top of the beam that led to the platform, she swung her body, placed a foot upon it, and dismounted before scrambling across the beam. There she stood on the platform with hands on hips and staring down at her opponent. Brandt set his jaw in determination and climbed up to join her, the action causing little apparent effort. He’s strong for his size, Quinn thought, and outweighs me by twenty or thirty pounds. She backed up, giving him space. A glance down confirmed her position a foot from the end of the platform, with two feet to either side of her and a length of nine feet before her. Brandt stood on the other end, appraising her. Does he see me as a girl or an enemy? she wondered. I guess I’m both.
Kwai-Lan called out from below as the other students gathered behind him to watch. “You lose if you give up, have a major bone broken, get knocked out, or fall from the platform.” Quinn and Brandt both nodded and the man called out, “Begin.”
Quinn stepped forward, falling into the Nitor Bellum pose, balanced, yet ready to react. Brandt eased himself forward with his left foot and left hand in the lead, like a brawler. Without moving, Quinn held herself still and calm, waiting for him to close the gap.
His left fist flashed toward her face but missed the mark when Quinn jerked her head to the side with a slight twist of her body. A right punch followed, but he missed when her forearm smashed into his and knocked it aside. He had moved too close and left himself open by overextending. Quinn’s open hand lashed out and chopped him in the throat. His eyes bulged, and he lifted a foot to take a retreating step. Quinn’s sweeping kick connected with the back of his opposite knee, taking the leg from beneath him. His back landed on the platform with a thud, his momentum taking him over the edge to fall to the floor below where he bounced off the magically modified stone before settling on his side.
Quinn stood at the edge of the platform as Brandt squirmed below, trying to breathe. When a healer ran over and knelt beside him, Quinn placed her hands on the platform edge, flipped her legs high overhead, and vaulted toward the floor below. She bent her knees with the landing before standing over her fallen opponent. The healer stepped away, and Brandt looked up at Quinn.
“Sorry, but you lose,” Quinn said.
He rolled over and scrambled to his feet, his face a thundercloud. With his chest thrust out, he moved close to Quinn and sneered. “That was cheap. We were sparring, and you hit my throat.”
Quinn’s eyes narrowed, and she remained still despite him invading her space. “I fail to recall any rule against such a move. Now, I suggest you back away before I beat you again…much worse.”
Brandt glared at her for a moment before backing away.
Kwai-Lan clapped his hand on Brandt’s shoulder. “She is correct, Brandt. Maybe you understand better now. You must learn discipline and maintain balance. Think, focus, react. These tools supersede brawn for those properly trained. You are a warden, now. We aren’t here to teach you how to fight for sport. This struggle is much greater. If you find yourself in the field, you will be fighting for your life. There are no rules…only the living and the dead. Which would you rather be?”
The Singa Chi master turned and strolled toward the exit while Brandt stared in his direction. Quinn understood. She had gone through a similar experience with Kwai-Lan when she had first arrived at the Ward. Being fast, strong, and relentless had given Quinn an edge against her fellow female cadets at the combat academy. After arriving at the Ward, she quickly discovered that the hand fighting taught at the academy was only a pale imitation of Singa Chi. The art, combined with her training, were changing her into something more than a mere fighter. She knew she could now defeat opponents who presented a physical mismatch. Her skill had surpassed that of Nalah, despite the girl’s extra year of practice. It left Quinn wondering when her first mission would come.
Quinn gathered herself as she stared at the door. The corridor was quiet – nobody in sight and nothing of note other than the glowing tiles below and illuminated beams above. She took a deep breath and lifted her fist to knock when the door swung open.
“Hi, Doll,” Wyck grinned. “I see you’ve finally given in to your desires and have come for a taste of what Wyck has to offer.”
Quinn’s mouth twisted before she responded. “Sorry, but I don’t have the stomach for that particular dish.”
His grin widened. “I do love dueling with you.”
“You mean you enjoy losing.” She peeked past him and into the apartment. “Is Brandt here?”
“Oh, so you’d rather have a run at the little stuck-up prince?” He moved aside and waved her in. “Come in. You can join him in his pouting.”
Quinn entered the room to find Brandt lying on the sofa. When he saw her, he sat up and swung his feet to the floor.
“Quinn,” Brandt said.
“You must admit, he is observant.” Wyck said from behind her. “You didn’t even have to sit on his lap and give him a tickle for him to notice you.”
Rolling her eyes, she turned toward Wyck. “Weren’t you about to leave?”
He chuckled. “Yes. I’m joining Thiron for a few mugs of ale. Care to join us?”
She shook her head. “No, thanks. I’ve heard your stories. You two go on and compare conquests.”
He shrugged, “Suit yourself.”
When the door shut, she turned toward Brandt and found him staring at her from the sofa. Clinging to her resolve, Quinn crossed the room and sat in the chair across the Ratio Bellicus table from him.
“I…I wanted to apologize,” she said. “Kwai-Lan teaches us to be quick, efficient, and ruthless when we fight. You left yourself open, so I responded as I was trained.”
Brandt’s grimace deepened, his eyes narrowing as he stared at her. The intensity she had noticed before was again present, lingering, until he looked away and sighed.
“Don’t worry about it. Kwai-Lan wanted to prove a point – a point well made. I can sometimes be…over confident.”
Quinn snorted. “Among other things.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You act like you’re waiting for others to do everything for you, to bow down and treat you like you’re exceptional.” She pointed toward the door. “Out there, you might be someone important, but in the Ward, you are no different than the rest of us. You’re training to be a warden, now. I suggest you forget your title and focus on learning everything you can as quickly as possible.”
Brandt sat back and smiled. “You sound like my father.”
“Smart man.”
He chuckled. “Some would say so. Most people, in fact.”
“So, you’re not…angry with me?”
“No.” Brandt shook his head. “You’re fast. One moment, I was trying to punch you and the next…I was on the floor choking for air.”
“Fast and efficient. Balanced and focused. That is how Kwai-Lan trains us.”
“Well, you appear to be a good student.”
She snorted in response. “Don’t think I was always that way. We all take our lumps
as we learn our lessons. Some require more beatings than others do. I’m here to recommend that you limit yours as much as possible.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why all this concern?”
Quinn looked toward the window. “When I first got to the combat academy, it seemed as if everyone stood against me. In many ways, it was my fault. I have a tendency to push others away and try to do everything on my own. My father has often said that I’m more stubborn than an angry pig.” She turned toward him, the pair locking eyes. “I see some of that in you. While they’re not horrible traits, I prefer not to watch things be more difficult for you than necessary.”
Brandt leaned forward. “Thank you.”
She lowered her eyes, her gaze falling on the game board. “Do you play?”
“Ratio Bellicus? Yes. In fact, I was the best in the citadel by the time I left.”
“Really? You sound pretty sure of your skill.”
“Perhaps you would like to find out for yourself?”
Quinn smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”
17
Magic
Cassie gripped the ladder rungs and glanced down at Everson, who was the last person to make the climb. He moved carefully, his odd mechanical legs whirring as he slowly worked his way up the ladder. When she looked back up, her brother stepped off the ladder and faded from view. The bright sunlit sky waited above, beckoning her. She resumed her climb and surfaced into daylight.
Wind blew her hair into her face as she stood on the rooftop, but the wind was welcome with it being the heart of summer and the mid-day sun making its presence known even in the high altitude of the valley. Similar to her fellow wardens-in-training, Cassie felt herself drawn toward the half-wall that encircled the Ward rooftop. She found a spot between Jonah and Brandt and rested her arms upon the wall as she stared out at the vista before her.
The valley stretched out to the south – the grassy fields of the lawn split by a brown strip of road lined by trees. At the far end of the lawn was the combat academy, nestled beside the forest that lay between it and Fallbrandt. In the distance, she could see a smattering of rooftops beside the lake that shared the same name as the city. To the east and west, tall, pointed peaks enveloped the valley and made Cassie think of giant teeth, as if the academies were in the mouth of some unimaginably gigantic monster. Gray rock, with patches of snow still on the north face, covered the mountaintops before giving way to the greens of trees at lower elevations. The scene was one of tranquil beauty. Something to cherish. With a sigh, Cassie turned her attention to the building complex below.
The Fallbrandt Academy of Magic and Engineering sprawled out in all directions. The domed roof of the Academy Temple and the glass panels of the Arena reflected sunlight, causing her to squint when she looked in their direction. Other portions of the building extended in all directions like a spider’s legs.
“Yes, the view is wonderful,” Master Alridge called out, drawing everyone’s attention. Cassie turned to find the woman and Everson standing a dozen strides away, beside an oddly designed catapult. “You may spend more time gazing at the view after we complete our lesson. For now, come over and gather around so you can see better.”
Cassie scanned the rooftop as she and the others gathered around the Chaos Theory instructor. The middle of the building was capped by a low-angled pyramid of glass windows, which she recognized as the ceiling of the Atrium. Surrounding it was a walkway twenty feet across, and a low wall at the outer edge of the roof. I’d hate to fall from this height, she thought to her brother.
His voice rang back in her head, I wonder what it would be like to jump from up here while charged with a Reduce Gravity augmentation.
She imagined falling from twelve stories up. Even if she were charged with the augmentation and needn’t fear dying from the fall, the thought gave her a shiver and sent her stomach aflutter.
The students gathered in a circle, leaving Alridge and the catapult at the center.
“The siege engine behind me was designed by Master Hedgewick. Rather than possessing a single launch arm, intended for a heavy projectile, this one can rapidly fire up to four smaller objects. The concept enables us to take advantage of certain augmentations in a combination of science and magic.”
Using both hands, the woman lifted a wooden disk, a foot in diameter. “This disk is marked with the Heat rune we discussed in this morning’s session.” She gestured toward a stack of disks that rested beside the machine. “As are each of these.
“We use the disks as a means for you to train your abilities. At the same time, by periodically sending fireballs off this rooftop, it reinforces the image of the Ward. Others see it as an imposing building where arcanists practice dangerous magic.” She smiled. “While fear mongering can cause many problems, in this case, it encourages others to stay away from the Ward and allows us to maintain the secrecy of its true purpose.”
She held the disk out toward the nearest student. “Everson, would you care to show us the modifications you made to this machine?”
Everson accepted the disk, grunting at the weight as he held it in both hands. He moved closer to the catapult and gripped a lever while holding the disk against his stomach. “I have used Chaos Conduction to modify the reloading mechanism. Behold…”
When Everson pushed the lever down, a whirring sound emerged, accompanied by a series of clicks. The four launch arms slowly lowered before clicking into place. He then lifted the lever and the whirring stopped.
“Ivy, will you please grab a disk and join Everson?” Alridge asked, receiving a silent nod from the quiet girl.
Ivy shifted over to the stack, picked up a disk with a grunt, and settled beside Everson.
Alridge said, “Be sure to have the rune side of the disks facing this direction when you load the launch basket. Once loaded, I need each of you to stand ready at the release lever.”
The two students each placed a disk into an oddly shaped catapult launch bucket, designed to hold the disk upright…like a coin on edge.
“Jonah, Cassie, Brandt…which of you wants to go first?”
Cassie stepped forward before her brother could react.
“Very well, Cassie.” Master Alridge said. “You likely guessed that I wish you to perform a Chaos augmentation. However, a fully powered Heat augmentation creates an intense fire, hot enough to burn one of these wooden disks in a mere second or two. Instead, I want you to try something new. Once you have gathered the Chaos energy, release only a portion of it into one rune before moving on to the other. This will create a lesser augmentation in each, while allowing for multiple applications.”
Cassie nodded and closed her eyes, preparing to access Chaos.
In the beginning, extreme fear or anger were required to feel Chaos, to gather it and channel it into a rune. With each subsequent attempt, the process had grown easier. Now, a year after her first successful augmentation, it took her mere moments to access the power.
She sensed the raw and angry power of Chaos surrounding her, a tempest of energy that was invisible to the naked eye, but was always there. Opening herself up, she drew it in as simply as taking a breath. By the time she opened her eyes again, it seemed like she might melt from the fury of Chaos raging inside her.
Focusing on the first rune, she allowed the Chaos to flow out and then urgently cut off the flow, feeling as though she were trying to hold back a herd of horses. She found herself sweating, shaking, and dizzy from the pressure building inside her. The first rune glowed and Alridge commanded, “Everson, launch!” He pulled the lever and launched the disk while Cassie focused on the second rune. She removed the block and allowed the remaining energy to flow out. The rune on the disk began to glow and Alridge called out, “Ivy, launch!” The girl pulled the lever and the launch arm sprang forward.
Breathing heavily from the effort, Cassie felt relieved to be free of the power as the anticipated wave of exhaustion hit her, causing her to stagger. She gazed toward the east and fou
nd a distant fireball, thousands of feet away, burn out. The second fireball chased it until, it too, snuffed to a puff of smoke and ash.
Alridge clapped her hand on Cassie’s shoulder. “Very good, Cassilyn. You were able to perform a two-part partial augmentation on your first attempt. Very good, indeed.”
Cassie stopped before the closed door and turned toward her brother. “This is where she said we were to be, right?”
“Yeah,” Brandt said.
She gripped the knob and opened the door. The room was dark, save for the light coming through an open door on the opposite wall. Beyond the door was the Atrium floor and warriors training with wooden sparring weapons. They were going through stances, similar to the training she had seen soldiers performing at the Kantar Citadel. Among seven fighters training on the floor, she had only met Quinn, Chuli, Bilchard, and Wyck.
“You resemble your parents.”
Cassie jumped, startled by the voice. She turned and found a man sitting in the shadows. Dressed in a purple-paneled black coat and possessing dark skin and short, dark curls, he blended well with the shadows.
The man stood and bowed his head. “My name is Jestin Wykatt. I’ve known your parents since they were your age…or close to it. I’m an ecclesiast instructor at the academy, and I’m here to assist in your development.”
Brandt’s brow furrowed. “Just the two of us?”
“Order is not like Chaos. Order is an internal magic with limited application. The others have mastered the ability to heal. What else they may someday achieve depends on their individual abilities.”
“And us?” Brandt asked.
“Your parents are two of the strongest ecclesiasts of my generation. We have found that genetics often dictate one’s capacity for magic. Although your untapped potential is undetermined, we suspect it will reach a significant level.” His voice lowered, “I know your secret, and I have been among the very few who are aware that your parents possess the same ability.”
The Arcane Ward (Wardens of Issalia Book 2) Page 11