Outfox_Spellslingers Academy of Magic

by Annabel Chase

I swayed for a brief moment, my legs nearly crumpling beneath me.

  “Dani?” Bryn grabbed me before I dropped to the ground.

  “I’m fine,” I said, shaking her off. “I feel good, actually.” I was drained, but the current of energy had been electrifying.

  “Who did that?” Priscilla practically screamed. “It wasn’t me. I wouldn’t have dropped you in the lake, Professor Langley.”

  “I know it wasn’t you, Miss Peacock,” he said in his clipped manner. “You have not displayed that level of skill.” His gaze shifted to me. “I recommend a break, Miss Degraff. That kind of display will take its toll on a fire witch.” The professor conjured a quick spell to dry himself.

  “There’s no toll,” I said, hopping around on my feet to prove it. “I’m ready to go again.”

  “Dani, there’s no reason to push yourself,” Cerys said softly.

  “There’s always a reason to push,” I replied. I wasn’t going to be the best if I didn’t test my limits.

  I noticed Cerys and Bryn exchange looks. “Dani, I’m a water witch,” Bryn said, “so trust me when I say that what you did took a lot of power. A lot. Now go sit on the bench.” Bryn shoved me away from the group.

  As much as I knew my friends had my best interest at heart, I objected to their interference. If I felt good after performing a huge spell, why did I need to rest? What did it matter to anyone else?

  Even as I sat on the bench, magic buzzed inside me. I could’ve conjured a hundred more spells and it would only have served to make me a stronger witch. The AMF needed strong magic users. We were the backbone of the organization.

  I observed the remainder of the lesson from the sidelines, my resentment building. They should be encouraging us to develop our skills, not squelch them.

  Icarus swooped down to the bench and perched beside me. “Hey, Icarus,” I said. “Bryn should be finished in a minute.”

  He nudged me with a white wing and I noticed the note tied to his leg with a pink ribbon. I knew in an instant that it was from Peter. I removed the note and Icarus flew off before I could say anything else.

  Professor Langley cast a long shadow over me. “I assume this missive has to do with your offsite assignment,” he said.

  “You know about that?”

  “Chancellor Tilkin requested your professors to be mindful of your current extracurricular activities and to be lenient,” he replied.

  “Oh, thank you,” I said. “I had no idea.”

  “I didn’t say that I agreed to it,” he said. Professor Langley rubbed his cheek and strolled away, as though already bored by our conversation. He was truly insufferable.

  I unfurled the note and scanned the message written in Peter’s messy handwriting—Called around and found your bum dwarf in Pleasant Point. You’re welcome.

  I smiled to myself. Peter was as resourceful as he was exasperating. If he’d only devote his energy to worthy causes instead of minor criminal activity, he could do this world a lot of good.

  “Was that Icarus?” Bryn asked, sitting beside me on the bench.

  “He brought a note from Peter,” I said. “I think those two bonded.” Which was more than I could say for Peter and Clementine. My familiar still hissed whenever he came within a mile radius.

  “Anything good?” Bryn asked. “Did he dot the ‘i’ in Dani with a little heart?”

  “It’s the location of the swordsmith I’m looking for,” I said. “Time for another road trip.”

  Bryn perked up. “I wouldn’t mind a chance to miss Advanced Runes. I already have Cerys to bore me to tears with that stuff.”

  I laughed. “I’ll get the keys from Fonthill and meet you at the gateway in half an hour.”

  Bryn gave my shoulder a playful jostle. “Make it thirty-five minutes. Give yourself five more minutes on this bench. I’m telling you—that water spell was a doozy.”

  I waited until she rejoined the group, and then I quietly slipped away to Fonthill’s barn. I didn’t need five more minutes of rest. There was far too much work to be done.

  Two hours later, Bryn and I rolled into Pleasant Point. The picturesque town wasn’t far from Chickweed Creek. There was no sign of a smithy at first glance, so we stopped and asked the first resident we passed on the street.

  “We’re looking for a dwarf,” I said. “A swordsmith.” I neglected to mention the limp. It seemed rude and I figured the combo of ‘dwarf’ and ‘swordsmith’ would be enough to go on.

  “You must mean Hef,” the pixie said, her wings fluttering madly. “He’s probably in the forge. That’s where I usually catch him. He’s an obsessive worker. Loves his craft more than anyone I’ve ever met. He’s a welcome addition to Pleasant Point.”

  “Which way is the forge?” I asked.

  The pixie pointed to the right, down a narrow, cobblestoned street. “All the way at the end of the lane. You can’t miss it.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “This place is aptly named,” Bryn said. “I’m almost suspicious of places that are too nice.”

  “That’s because you grew up in the shadow of fear,” I reminded her.

  “Fair point. I’ve never seen a forge,” Bryn said. “Not an active one. My mother took me to a place in Williamsburg that had an old one. It was easy to picture the blacksmiths at work. Pretty cool stuff.”

  “Well, now you get to see a dwarf in his element,” I said. “They were traditionally miners back in the day and some have carried on the custom in related fields.”

  We passed by several traditional shops—a candlestick maker, a seer, a wooden sign maker, and an apothecary. Above the shop called Wanda’s, which featured a window display of ten hand-carved wands, a woman hung white shirts over the wall of her small balcony.

  “This is such a quaint town,” Bryn said. “It feels French.”

  “You’ve been to the Eastern Quadrant?” I queried.

  “Oh, no,” she replied. “Just from books and movies. I’ve never been across the ocean. Maybe someday.” A smile slowly emerged. “My mom always hoped I’d get to travel further afield, but she never would have risked getting me a passport.”

  “You must miss her,” I said. Bryn had been much closer with her mother than I was with mine. Even though I’d been close to my grandmother, losing her wasn’t the same as Bryn losing her mother so young. Dr. Morrow was all she’d had then. She’d been completely alone in the world until Icarus found her. I couldn’t imagine what that time had been like for her. I’d often felt alone in the family home, but Bryn had actually been alone.

  “I miss her every minute of every day,” Bryn said. We stopped in front of the entrance to the smithy and Bryn gave me an appraising look. “Do we knock or bust our way in?”

  “He’s not a criminal suspect,” I said. “I think we should knock.”

  Bryn rapped her knuckles loudly on the door. It took a minute, but we heard the heavy scrape of boots on the wooden floor as someone approached the door from the other side. A latch was lifted and the door creaked open to reveal a dwarf in a protective helmet. He tried to shift the small window of the helmet, but it appeared to be stuck, so he removed the headgear completely and peered at us.

  “Can I help you?” he asked. He was the quintessential dwarf. Squat and round with thick legs and black boots. His cheeks were ruddy and his brown hair was disheveled. I’d bet good coin that he hadn’t run a brush through it in days.

  “We’re looking for Hef,” Bryn said. “Is that you?”

  He suddenly seemed uneasy. “This isn’t more strong-arming, is it? I said I’d do it.” He walked back toward the forge and I noticed his pronounced limp.

  “Strong-arming?” I echoed. “What do you mean?”

  He met my inquisitive gaze. “You’re not here about having me reforge an ancient sword?”

  I tensed. “Slatra?”

  He scratched behind his ear. “Nobody needs to check on me. My word is my bond.”

  “Who convinced you to reforge the swor
d?” I asked. “Was he a satyr?”

  Hef groaned. “See? I knew they sent you.”

  “We don’t work for Luke or his boss,” I assured him. “In fact, we’re trying to figure out who Luke’s boss is so we can stop this from happening.”

  The dwarf returned his attention to the piece of metal in front of him. “I can’t help you with that. The satyr didn’t tell me.”

  “Why have you agreed to take the job when you clearly don’t want to?” Bryn asked.

  “Because they threatened to kill my family if I don’t,” Hef said simply.

  I balked. “What?” They offered Luke power and money, but the dwarf gets death threats for his family?

  Hef drummed his finger on the anvil. “They tried to offer me money first. Lots of coin, but I didn’t like the sound of this sword. Seems like the kind of thing that should stay broken. When money didn’t persuade me, the satyr got progressively worse in offering unpleasant scenarios.”

  “Why you?” Bryn asked. “If you said no, why not move on to the next smith?”

  “Because of my heritage, I think,” Hef said. “My family has been in the business for centuries. Rumor has it that my ancestors were blessed by the gods for their contributions.”

  An idea occurred to me. “I think I know why they chose you. I’ll bet your ancestor forged the original sword.”

  The dwarf studied me. “Yeah, the satyr didn’t say so specifically, but I got the sense that it was something to do with past service to Odin. I don’t talk about it much, so I’m not sure how they got wind of it.”

  There had to be a spy or someone with access to greater knowledge than even Aenon.

  “Did they say what they would do to your family?” Bryn asked.

  Hef grunted. “You mean how they’d kill them? Forgive me, but I didn’t really bother to ask for the gory details.”

  “We can protect them,” I said. “Help us stop them.”

  “Stop them how?” Hef asked. “I’m not acquiring anything for them. They’re meant to bring the two halves to me once they have them. He said they’d let me know so that I could be ready.”

  My pulse began to race. “Once they have them both? So they only have one?”

  “Not sure,” Hef replied. “That’s how it sounded to me.”

  If they only had my aunt’s half, that meant there was still time for me to find the bottom half. “Did Luke suggest how close they were to obtaining the second half?”

  “Nothing concrete,” Hef said, “but he reeked of ale and rambled on about visiting a fjord in the Northern Quadrant. A place was called Halse. Maybe the trip is connected to finding the other half.”

  “Stars and stones,” I muttered. Luke knew more than he’d told us. Of course, I’d been focusing on the wrong questions. “How would they know to search in Halse?”

  Hef shrugged. “He said at one point that his boss has eyes and ears all over the world. I figured it was part of his threat. That they’d know if I reneged on my promise.”

  What if they truly did have eyes and ears everywhere? That was the only way to explain how they’d managed to locate both halves. The top half had been sitting in my aunt’s house for years, and before that, in her grandfather’s house. It wasn’t an item that got discussed outside of the house, mostly because no one had known its true value. It was simply an interesting artifact. And Halse was remote. It was parallel to southwestern Norway in Terrene. As far as I could tell, there would have been no way to track these items through a locator spell or anything similar.

  “What if Luke’s boss has eyes and ears here right now?” Bryn asked, surveying the interior. “They’ll know we’ve located Hef.”

  “Unlikely,” Hef said. “After he left town, my friend Kyle used magic to reveal any listening spells or eavesdropping devices, but we didn’t find any.”

  “That was smart,” I said.

  “Not sure how much good it does me,” Hef said. “I’m still stuck having to reforge a dangerous weapon, knowing it’s going to end up in the wrong hands.”

  “We’re here to make sure that doesn’t happen,” I said.

  Hef managed a small smile. “I wish I shared your confidence.”

  “You’re not the only one,” Bryn said.

  I handed the dwarf a slip of paper with my contact details. “If they contact you with a delivery date, will you let me know as soon as possible? No matter what happens, we can’t let you reforge that sword.”

  The dwarf jerked a pudgy thumb over his shoulder. “I won’t be forging anything if I can’t get the fire lit. It’s been giving me trouble today. Like it knows I’m planning to use it for some nefarious purpose.”

  I glimpsed the hearth behind him. “I can help you with that.”

  “You’ve got experience with forges?” he asked.

  I smiled. “No, but I have experience with fire.” I waved my hand to the side. “You might want to move to the left, so I don’t hurt you.” I called to my magic and it leapt to attention as though lying in wait for me. Dear gods, it felt so good to have magic pulsing through me. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until the next time I used it again. I extended my hand and flames streaked from my fingertips, reigniting the forge.

  Hef gazed at me in wonder. “You’d be handy around here. If you ever need a change of scenery, feel free to hang around our little town.”

  “It’s a lovely place,” I said. “I wouldn’t mind a bit.”

  The dwarf seemed pleased. “It’s why we moved here. Chickweed Creek got stale for us, and this place ticked all the boxes.”

  “I want you and your family to enjoy living here for a very long time,” I said.

  Hef’s expression clouded over. “I’ll let you know when I hear something.”

  “Thank you,” I said. If I could find the missing half before Luke, then I wouldn’t need to hear from Hef at all. He and his family would be safe.

  Once we were safely outside the smithy, Bryn said to me. “You’re going to Halse, right?”

  “What choice do I have? Luke is one step ahead. I can’t let him get that other half.”

  “Good,” Bryn said. “Then I’m coming with you. I’ve always wanted to cross the ocean. Here’s my big chance.”

  She was right. Halse was in the Northern Quadrant. As a future Keeper of the North, it was the quadrant where Mia would go after she graduated from the academy.

  “Let’s get back to the academy and see if we can find a portal or a charm that gets us there immediately,” I said. It could be the one advantage we had over the other party. Maybe they didn’t have access to such advanced magic—but we sure did. And I intended to use it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “What about using the chancellor’s cloak?” Mia suggested. We’d regrouped in our room and I’d given them the full progress report.

  “All four of us squeeze into one cloak?” I asked. “I don’t think so. Besides, I don’t want to risk the chancellor’s wrath if she catches us using it. That would be a huge violation.”

  “Then what other option do we have?” Mia asked.

  “There must be a portal that goes to Halse,” Cerys said. “The fjords are so remote that it would be difficult to get there without magical assistance.”

  “Well, you’d get there eventually,” I said. “It would just take a lot longer than you’d want it to.”

  “What about flying?” Bryn asked. “Too far for broomsticks?”

  “Much,” I replied. “You’d have to fly at too high of an altitude as well.”

  Bryn snapped her fingers. “Cato! If there’s a back door to Halse, he’ll know about it.”

  I paused. A back door in? “Actually,” I said, “I have a better idea.”

  Twenty minutes later, Peter climbed through our open window with Clementine hissing at his every move. Apparently, she still hadn’t forgiven him for taking over her body when Peter and I visited the Liberty Project. I wasn’t sure how to help her move past the perceived transgression, but right n
ow my focus was on a more urgent matter.

  “What’s all this about?” Peter asked. He vaulted over the windowsill, careful not to disturb any of Cerys’s rune rocks.

  “We need a quick way to Halse,” I said. “What are our options?”

  “Halse?” he repeated. “Why would you want to go there? It’s all fjords and waterfalls and cliffs.”

  I scrunched my nose. “That actually sounds scenic.”

  “Sure, if you’re into near death experiences at every turn,” he said.

  “We think the other half of the sword might be hidden there,” I said.

  “Where?” Peter asked. “Do you intend to cover every crevice and cave? Because it’ll take you a while.”

  I folded my arms. “Try to remember your geography from primary school. What’s Halse famous for?”

  Peter made a face. “Right. Right. The big cliff overlooking the fjord. Super high, top of a mountain place.” He scratched the back of his head. “What’s it called again?”

  “Geir Pointe. I bet that’s where the blade is,” I said.

  “What makes you so sure?” he asked.

  “The gods made sure the two halves were separated and hidden in remote areas. It makes sense.” And I trusted my instincts. Always.

  “Where did your great-grandfather find his half?” Mia asked.

  “No one knows,” I said. “But he traveled extensively in his youth in search of money and adventure, especially in the Southern Quadrant. No cave went unexplored. He returned home with all sorts of souvenirs. Some made him a very wealthy man.”

  “I know someone who can get us as far as the nearest village to Geir Pointe,” Peter said.

  “Us?” I repeated. “Not us. You’ve done your part.”

  Peter studied me. “What’s the matter, princess? Afraid you’ll succumb to my charms?”

  Yes. Yes, I was. It would be easier to travel with my roommates. Less distractions. Besides, if I was going to head into a remote part of the Northern Quadrant in search of a legendary blade, I wanted the other three elemental witches by my side.

  “Five’s a crowd,” Bryn answered for me. “The four of us can handle it.”