by David Meyer
Inch by inch, he descended. Finally, his right shoe slid through the blades of grass and struck soil. The enchantment broke and we collapsed in a heap.
“Is everyone alright?” Piper asked.
Jax stifled a moan. “Just peachy.”
“Thanks.” Calvin flopped onto his back. Chest heaving, he stared at the faraway ceiling. “I owe you guys big-time.”
“I think that’s enough practice for today.” Boltstar stretched his arms. “How are the new spells coming along?”
Silence greeted him.
“That good, huh?” He smiled. “Well, I think it’s time for your first test.”
A few people groaned. Piper bit her cheeks, looking as if someone had left a baby snallygaster on her front step. Regardless, we all started for the bleachers.
Boltstar looked puzzled. “Where are you going?”
“You said we were taking a test,” Piper replied.
“Yes, a physical one.” His smile widened. “It’s time for your first HMQ game.”
Chapter 23
“You know what I’d kill for right now. A bug repellant spell.” Leandra waved her hand at a mosquito. “Seriously, where do these things come from?”
She swatted at the pesky insect and eventually, it moved on to annoy some juniors.
We watched with intense curiosity as a group of seniors, all students in Havoc Magic 12, marched out of the sunken locker room area. They moved slowly, their wands fixed on the objects levitating in front of them. Meanwhile, Boltstar produced an enchanted rope and proceeded to carve out a large rectangular-shaped section of the field. Unceremoniously, the kids dumped their objects into the roped-off section and went back to get more stuff. Before long, all sorts of items rested within the square. I saw an old table standing on end, a door jammed into the soil, empty ramball crates, and many other things.
My ribs itched, but the itching wasn’t as intense as it had been the previous night. Still, I gave them a pretty good scratch before twisting toward Leandra and Piper. “What do you guys know about Chaotic magic?” I asked.
“It’s bad news,” Leandra replied, looking around. “And keep it down, will you? Most of these people already think we’re Chaotics. The last thing we need is to give them more ammunition.”
“Fine.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Do you know how it works?”
“Of course not.”
I switched my attention to Piper. “What about you?”
“I just know that it’s magic at its most primal. It comes from a person’s deepest emotions. Real emotions, not the ones we use for the Capsudra.” She shrugged. “Of course, that’s just what I’ve read. We’ll never know if it’s true or not.”
“That’s kind of sad,” I said without thinking.
She gave me an odd look. “What makes you say that?”
“Uh, oh.” Leandra glared at me. “You’d better not be a sympathizer.”
My cheeks started to burn. “Hey, I don’t like Chaotic magic any more than you guys. It just sucks that we can’t use something that’s a part of us.”
“Would you expect an insane person to use their insanity?” Leandra arched an eyebrow. “And what about someone who’s prone to violence? Should we just let them beat up people so they can be true to themselves?”
“Please direct your attention this way,” Boltstar announced, his commanding voice carrying across the field. “Specifically, to the enclosed area. This is a Havoc Magic Quadrant, or HMQ, if you prefer.”
He paused, giving us a chance to absorb this information.
“The HMQ is intended to simulate the conditions of a real-life battlefield. While certainly imperfect, it’ll help you learn how to utilize objects for cover, as well as attack others from behind cover. We’ll use the HMQ to play numerous structured games, which resemble different types of combat.”
He glanced at our faces, then smiled. “Well?” he asked. “What are you waiting for?”
I exchanged uneasy looks with Piper and Leandra. At a quick pace, we trotted across the field. As I stepped over the enchanted rope, Porter caught my eye. With an oily smirk, he drew his finger across his throat.
I’d forgotten all about his promise to defeat me within five minutes. Now, I could think of nothing else.
“Your first HMQ game will be a Havoc Royal,” Boltstar declared. “In other words, it’s a free-for-all. Upon my whistle, you’ll battle your fellow students. Anything goes. If a direct hit knocks you off your feet or renders you unconscious, you’re eliminated. The last person standing wins the game.”
Unconscious? My breaths turned raspy and I started to panic. This was insane. I couldn’t perform a single havoc magic spell in a controlled duel. How in the world was I going to pull one off with spells flying all around me?
“Remember your spells. Keep your emotions in check. Watch your footwork and mind your surroundings. You have no idea how many times I’ve seen great witches and wizards lose to lesser ones because they tripped over something. Now, begin fighting on my mark.” Boltstar walked partway up the bleachers. Sticking his fingers into his mouth, he emitted a low-pitched whistle.
Porter put on a burst of speed. “Elertfa Lokwhan,” he called out, waving his wand in the prescribed fashion.
A chestnut blaze shot toward me. I leapt out of the way and his spell struck a refrigerator, jolting the giant appliance and singeing its surface.
Gasping for air, I slid behind an empty locker. I caught my breath, then peeked out at the HMQ.
Gleaming chestnut light barely missed my noggin. Instead, it knocked the locker back into me. The impact sent me sprawling to the ground.
“The Wolf’s out,” Porter crowed.
“Only a direct hit can cause an elimination,” Boltstar reminded him. “So, Mr. Wolf is still very much alive.”
Porter grunted. Another chestnut ray sent me scrambling for cover yet again, this time behind a stack of chairs.
“Let’s go, Mr. Wolf,” Boltstar called out. “Stop running and fight back!”
I frowned at his unyielding tone. What had I done to deserve his attention? And what kind of instruction was that anyway? I was supposed to, ‘fight back’? How? By casting a spell I hadn’t mastered yet?
But hey, his eyes were on me so I decided I had to do something. And since we’d only learned one offensive spell so far, it wasn’t like I had much of a choice.
A glittering taupe spell careened into a chest of drawers. Piper yelped as they came crashing down on top of her.
My eyes widened. Everywhere I looked, students were zapping staffers, taking us out with ease. All thoughts of fighting went out of my brain. All I could think about was hiding just a little longer.
“Are you okay, Ms. Shaw?” Boltstar called out.
“Yes,” Piper replied, painfully. “At least, I think so.”
“The spell didn’t hit you. So, keep fighting!”
Jeff ran past me, his untucked shirt flapping behind him. Gordon, Felicia, and Sya were in hot pursuit. Vicious bolts of light—ivory, fuchsia, and taupe—lit up the area around his feet. “Help,” he shouted to no one in particular. “This is a madhouse!”
Gordon roared with insane laughter.
Dropping to all fours, I scurried into a fallen flowerpot. It was large enough to accommodate me and plenty dark inside. Curling my legs up, I tried to make myself invisible.
Nearby, Dorph Jenkins yelped. Leandra shrieked. Jenny grunted. They sounded like they were in agony.
Nico ran into view, dodging colorful spells.
“Psst,” I hissed. “Over here.”
But as he turned my way, a chestnut streak hit his right side. He went airborne, spinning like a top, before flopping onto his stomach. Groaning, he crawled toward the enchanted rope.
“I heard the Wolf,” Sya yelled. “He’s in that flowerpot.”
Uh, oh.
Three blasts slammed into the flowerpot in quick succession. The first one sent it skidding backward. The next two caused it t
o roll like crazy, first to the left, then even more to the left. Gritting my teeth, I held on tight. Meanwhile, sweat oozed out of my pores and a pounding dizziness cropped up in my forehead.
The pot careened into another pot. The sudden jolt jarred me loose and I spilled outside.
Wand in hand, I rose to my feet. I tried to run, but I could only wobble. I had no sense of balance or stability. This must be how it feels after drinking bizzlum, I thought crazily.
Through dazed, blurry vision, I saw Porter. He was on the run, ducking and firing spells at Jax. He wasn’t looking my way and I realized this was the best chance I’d get to take him down.
Waving my wand, I tried to pin down my emotion. The warm embrace of Instinctia wrapped around me. “Shumbla Dant,” I said.
Auburn light careened into Porter. Of course, nothing happened. Just like in practice, I’d performed the stupid speedwriting spell.
Porter threw out another chestnut slash. With a pained shout, Jax bit the dust.
Looking over his shoulder, Porter caught sight of me. A devilish grin creased his lips.
Bam!
A brilliant chestnut glow, hard as steel, slammed into my gut. The back of my head hit the ground and I just lay there, too shaken up to move.
“You made it almost four minutes, Wolf,” Porter crowed. “Maybe you’ll get to five next time.”
“You’re out, Mr. Wolf.” Boltstar called from his perch in the bleachers. “Please exit the HMQ.”
Oh, I wanted to exit the HMQ. Anything to get out of there. Unfortunately, my muscles refused to respond.
“Did you hear me, Mr. Wolf?”
Somehow, I flipped onto my belly. Then I crawled toward the enchanted rope, Porter’s vicious laughter ringing loudly in my ears.
Chapter 24
Beat-up and discouraged, I scaled the ladder. At the top, I lifted the hatch and peeked into the celestarium. Moonlight allowed me to see every inch of the space. And yet, I didn’t see Tad.
I climbed into the circular room, taking care to close the hatch behind me. “You can come out,” I said. “It’s just me.”
Scuffling noises arose from the chimney and a pair of feet dropped to the hearth. Ducking low, Tad made his way out of the fireplace.
“How was class?” he asked.
“Don’t ask.”
“That good, huh?”
My nose wrinkled. He smelled of sweat and grease. “I brought you some clothes.” I peeled an old backpack off of my shoulders. “Some toiletries, too.”
“Toiletries?”
I gave him a knowing look.
He sniffed his armpit, then made a face. “Whoa.”
“Yup.”
“There’s a bathroom below us.” He took the pack from me. “I’ll get cleaned up.”
“That’s not all I brought.”
He gave me a questioning look.
I nodded at the pack. “Look inside.”
Setting the backpack on a table, he unzipped the zipper.
“I snuck some food out of Madkey Station Grille,” I said. “It’s not exactly fresh, but—”
Frantically, he dug into the main pocket. He came out with a banana and a bagged sandwich. Like always, the sandwich had emerged as a pile of enchanted, fresh ingredients. To make it easier to carry, I’d issued the preparation orders back in Madkey Grille.
Tad didn’t seem to care though. He ripped the bag open and peeled the banana. Then he began eating with great gusto. In less than two minutes, he was done and licking his fingers.
“Wow, I needed that.” He searched the rest of my bag. His face turned crestfallen. “That’s all, huh?”
“I’ll bring more tomorrow.”
He nodded, disappointment evident in his features.
“How’s your shoulder?”
He made a face. “Awful.”
Truthfully, it didn’t look that bad. The Gratlan had shrunk even more since I’d last seen it. It had also faded a good deal and was getting closer and closer to flesh-colored. “It looks pretty good to me.”
“Oh, it’s definitely better. But this itching is driving me nuts.” He raked his fingernails across his shoulder. “Give me pain any day.”
I scratched my itchy chest. “I know what you mean.”
He left to freshen up. Meanwhile, I hiked to the glass wall and peered outside.
“I’m back,” he said a few minutes later.
He’d shaved and his face looked freshly scrubbed. His hair was damp, but clean. Gone were the grease, the sweat, and most importantly, the stink. Decked out in a green shirt and jeans, he looked, well, almost normal.
“Thanks. For the food, clothes, everything.”
“Yup.” I hesitated for a split-second. “Do you know Ivan Gully?”
His head bobbed up and down. “Why? Is he okay?”
“I’m not sure.” Quickly, I told him about the conversation I’d overheard between Boltstar and Galison.
“So, Ivan got loose, huh?” He stroked his jaw thoughtfully. “Good for him.”
“Maybe not. He’s injured. Starving, too.”
“Really?” A pained look crossed his face. “If that’s true, he won’t last long on his own.”
“You’re probably right. But don’t even think about helping him.” I crossed my arms. “If Boltstar captures you, we’re both screwed.”
“If Boltstar captures me, he’ll get my anchor. And then everyone I know will be screwed.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Well, are you ready to get started?”
I hesitated.
“I get it,” he said, grasping my shoulder. “The initial excitement’s worn off, right? You’re getting cold feet.”
I brushed his hand away. He’d always made me uneasy and that moment was no different.
He took my rejection in stride. “What’s the big deal?” he wondered. “Witches and wizards performed Chaotic magic for centuries, way before Structuralism came along.”
“Yeah, I know.” I exhaled. “It’s just … I’m worried.”
“About what?”
I thought for a moment. “That I’m about to cross a bridge from which there’s no return.”
“Well, I don’t know about that. But maybe this will make you feel better.” He cocked his head. “Chaotic magic is nowhere near as dangerous as you’ve been led to believe.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t seem all that bad to you, but—”
“We don’t have death spells.”
“I … what?”
“Okay, I’m sure some Chaotic magicians had deaths spells. But none of my people have ever cast one.” He gave me a pointed look. “Which is more than I can say for you guys.”
“That’s different,” I argued. “Boltstar was fighting an invasion.”
“Yes. An invasion without death spells.”
“He didn’t know that.” I bristled with indignation. “Anyway, that’s not the point. Under your system, anybody could have a death spell. But under Structuralism, only Boltstar and a few others can access that kind of power.”
“You mean they hoard that power for themselves.”
I shook my head. “That’s not it at all.”
“Are you sure about that?” He continued to scratch away at the healing Gratlan without pause. “And what makes you think Boltstar deserves that power, anyway? He fired the Gratlan right at us, without even checking to see who he’d hit with it.”
I suddenly felt very defensive. “That’s because he knew it could be healed.”
“Then why use it at all?” he challenged.
“I … don’t know.”
“Let me make it simple for you,” he said. “We’re not savages. We’ve got laws, same as you. Laws that say you can’t hurt other people. If you do, you get punished. It’s as simple as that.”
I tried to think of a snappy response, but nothing came to mind. So, I sighed instead. “It doesn’t even matter. I won’t be here much longer.”
“Why’s that?”
“My parents want m
e home.”
“Because of the invasion?”
I shook my head. “They think I’m wasting my time here. They want to enroll me at another school.”
“Gotcha.” With tremendous effort, he managed to stop scratching. But in less than a second, he was clawing at his shoulder all over again. “Well, it’s up to you.”
I lingered for a second, torn by indecision. “Are you sure you can teach me? You didn’t sound all that certain yesterday.”
“No. But I’ll try.” He gave me a knowing look. “Of course, a wand would help.”
I reached into my pocket and gently fingered MacPherson’s wand. I’d anticipated Tad’s request. Still, I wasn’t exactly comfortable with fulfilling it.
With a sigh, I tossed him the wand. At the same time, my free hand went to my holster. Ahh, who was I kidding? Tad actually knew how to fight. All I seemed to be good at was helping people read faster.
But I needn’t have worried. He took the wand in a careful grip, then held it up to the moonlight. “This isn’t mine.”
“Boltstar’s got your wand.” I nodded at the one in his hand. “That belongs to MacPherson.”
He whipped it to the left, then to the right. He proceeded to run it through other movements, gradually getting used to the weight and feel of it. “It’s nice.”
I felt a pang of jealousy. Oh, how I’d wanted to keep it for myself. But it wouldn’t be smart. If even one person spotted it, my growing web of secrets would unravel for all to see.
“I’ve given this a lot of thought,” Tad remarked, alternatively playing with the wand and scratching his shoulder. “And it won’t be easy. It’ll be like teaching someone to walk on their own two feet after they’ve been riding hoists their entire life. But I still think we can do it.”
“How?”
“First, I’ll show you the steps. Then you’ll mimic me. We’ll practice over and over again until you get it right. Sound good?”
Actually, it sounded an awful lot like school, which didn’t exactly encourage me. But since I didn’t have any other ideas, I produced my wand. Thick and old, it paled in comparison to the one I’d given him. But hey, at least it hadn’t broken yet. “Good enough,” I replied.