by Lucia Ashta
As the pines above me whined in protest, and the grass whimpered loudly, and Professor Hapblomb shouted, my surroundings swirled as they did when I entered one of Leander’s portals.
My eyes widened at the realization of what was happening. But … Dad. How? What?
When I looked at him again, the sneer across his face confirmed that this wasn’t the Dad I knew. Someone had done something to him. All the little signs came crashing down on me. The Dad I knew didn’t offer to hug me. In fact, he didn’t say most of the things he’d said; the wording was off.
He yanked on my wrists so hard that he wrenched my shoulders painfully in their sockets. It was too late to act on the warning my instincts had worked so hard to make me aware of. Had the trees and plants been trying to caution me with their odd behavior?
My surroundings gave way entirely to the dizzying spin of a portal—when portals weren’t allowed within the grounds of the academy. Not even Leander, the second prince of the fae, could create a portal when the Academy Spell forbade them for everyone’s safety.
The Academy Spell.
My heart thudded mournfully. The Academy Spell was surely full of holes now that it was behaving as erratically as a college student at a kegger.
“No!” Professor Hapblomb screamed, and the irony that she should be the one to try to save me wasn’t lost on me. There simply wasn’t a thing I could do about it.
I looked her way one last time … and saw a man running up behind her. A man who looked all too much like my father. His face was flushed from exertion, his brow pinched in panic.
Gulping my dread, I turned back to take in the man who was almost certainly not my father. As I thrashed in his hold, working to break it, he sneered widely and tugged me fully into the portal.
With no other choice, I closed my eyes and gave over to the twirling magic of the portal. Once you entered one, it wasn’t safe to leave it unless you exited through its intended destination. Leander had warned me from the start. If you left a portal before traveling through it, the magic of it might dismantle your body in unnatural ways, and assemble it in a way that no longer resembled you. The magic of a portal was all about flow—in one direction—and if I were to disrupt that flow, I’d be forced to face the consequences.
My odds were better in following the man my heart had known all along wasn’t my dad. If only the two sources of magic within me hadn’t been colliding, maybe I would have been able to pay attention better.
Either way, I was sure of one thing: I was fucked.
19
There was no real way for anyone to figure out where I was going since portals weren’t exactly trackable. We were taking far too long to remain close to the Menagerie. I wasn’t exactly an expert on portaling, but it seemed logical to think that a portal to a nearby physical location would be shorter in duration. I also registered the unfortunate fact that if this man was indeed not my father, as it seemed pretty obvious he couldn’t be, then I’d just revealed my dual mage shifter nature to the enemy. Oh, and also, I was basically being kidnapped. Again.
By the time the portal finally spit me out, I lurched forward onto a field of … alfalfa maybe. I tried to bring my hands to my knees to prop myself up while I recovered from the dizzying and highly nauseating ordeal. As much as Leander’s portals overwhelmed my senses, I realized for the first time that his portals were actually gentle, crafted with care. The one this pseudo-Dad had created was jerky and violent, in true form to the purpose of its creation. It had the feel of a kidnapping portal.
But when I bent forward, Pseudo Dad wouldn’t let me, tugging roughly on my wrists in the hold he hadn’t loosened even a smidgen during our travel. I tried to look up at him, but even that minor movement of my head sent waves of dizziness crashing through me. Unceremoniously, I deposited myself on the thick bed of alfalfa, throwing my captor off balance with the sudden move.
“Get up,” he sneered, all pretense obviously over.
I didn’t bother answering. What was the point?
“I said get up.”
“Yeah, I heard you, you creep.”
“Oh, you’re calling your father a creep, are you? Maybe some discipline is in order.”
A mix between a laugh and a sob bubbled up and out of me. “You’re not my father.” But even as I said it, there was a part of me that was still in denial, hoping he somehow was my dad despite all the signs suggesting otherwise. The man looked like my dad after all, and sure, I’d seen a second Dad, and that was highly suspect, but that part of me that was beginning to feel the desperation of my circumstances wished for another explanation than a dastardly plot to mess with the Academy Spell so I could be kidnapped another time.
The man, who was so obviously not my father, no matter what my healthy sense of denial argued, cackled loudly and stridently. “You’re smarter than you look.”
I frowned, unsure how deep of an insult that was.
“Come on. Get up. Now!” He gave a ferocious tug and managed to drag me several feet across the field of crops. For once I was grateful for the mixup in uniform this morning. My pant legs scraped across the plants.
“Get the fuck up,” Obviously Not Dad barked while he yanked at my arms so hard they threatened to pop out of their sockets.
But why on earth would I make kidnapping me any easier on him? “No thanks,” I said, refusing to look up at him, instead trying to figure out where the hell I was. From the looks of it, we were out in the middle of the boonies of Nowhereville. In every direction, all I could make out were vast acres of farm fields, lush with mature crops.
“Rage thought you might say something like that. That’s why we have a little extra motivation for you to do as I say.”
I swallowed visibly, before wishing I hadn’t revealed the fear Rage’s name instilled in me. “What do you mean?” I asked in a squeaky voice I couldn’t help.
“Oh, what do I mean?” Crazy Creep drew out in a sing-songy tone that suggested he was as off his rocker as Rage. “I guess I mean that while I was assigned to get you, others were assigned to collect your silly little friends.”
My breath hitched in my throat, making me choke, and I coughed while he laughed that high-pitched cackle that reminded me too much of Jacinda and her hyenas.
“I see that Rage was right in thinking that would motivate you.”
“You guys are real dicks, you know that?” I spat, finally looking up at him again. It was all shades of disconcerting to see a cruel streak running through Dad’s eyes.
“I’ve been called worse,” the dick said with a smile of bared teeth that chilled me to the bone. Okay, maybe I should shut up and cooperate. Whatever simmered behind this imposter’s eyes was worse than he was letting on. Also, if he was willing to work with Rage, knowing what the shifter intended, then obviously his moral compass was out of order.
I rose to my feet, but not before noticing the subtle energy of the alfalfa plants beneath my body. It was as if they were humming, though I wasn’t certain I was actually hearing them or just imagining that I was. Either way, I hid my reaction, not wanting to draw any more attention than I already had to the fact that the plants had formed some sort of bizarre connection with me.
The impostor allowed me a few moments to steady myself on my feet, which surprised me. Maybe it was just that he preferred not to have to deal with the inconvenience of me losing the contents of my stomach on his little kidnapping outing. When I confirmed the dizziness had passed, I nodded, and made to set off after him.
“What? Now you want to cooperate?” he asked. “You thinking you’ll have a chance to save your friends?” His tone was mocking, and I wondered what it was that made all these pricks so prone to jeering at their victims.
“How long are you going to look like my dad?” I asked.
“As long as it bothers you.”
Oh, so as long as I was in his presence. Terrific. I couldn’t look at him for more than a few seconds at a time without getting a major dose of the heebie-jee
bies.
He laughed again. “This is turning out to be fun. Rage didn’t tell me I’d have fun. If he had, maybe I would have let him pay me less.” Another arctic laugh. “Never mind. Of course I wouldn’t have. I’m worth top dollar.”
Yeah, just as Jevan had believed he was before Ky ripped his throat out.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
Before answering, he turned what I thought was west and pulled me along, tugging roughly at my wrists some more, uncaring that he was turning his back to me. Apparently, he didn’t see me as a threat, which meant maybe I had a chance to overthrow him before he got me wherever he was taking me. When I collected my wits a bit more, I’d have to give it a shot. Better to take him on than to take a whole team of psychos on.
“We’re going to the secret lair,” he said. “It’s all set up so that no one will hear you or your friends scream for help. It’s amazing.”
He sounded like every cutout villain I’d ever seen in low-grade movies.
“Yeah, sounds amazing,” I said, sarcasm as thick as I could lay it on.
“I know, right?” It was like he’d totally forgotten whom he was talking to. Or maybe he was actually psychotic. I guess it was likely, since he was, you know, kidnapping me and talking of secret lairs like he was referencing his favorite toys.
“It’s so cool. There are all sorts of torture devices. I don’t even know where Rage got them. Some of them look really old. Whoever invented these tools was brilliant. A genius.”
“Forgive me if I don’t share your enthusiasm.”
“I forgive you. It makes sense that you wouldn’t since you’re the one Rage is going to threaten to cut into little pieces with them.”
I was too shaken by the morbid imagery to bother wondering if this guy was totally immune to sarcasm.
“He even has one of those iron maiden caskets, you know the ones? Where they enclose you in a standing sarcophagus and then spikes skew you from every side. It’s supposed to be crazy painful. I wish I could meet whoever came up with that one.” He chuckled, and I wondered if just listening to him could make me vomit in my mouth.
“Rage has even talked of getting some horses so we can draw and quarter people. That would be—”
“How much farther do we have to walk?”
He turned to look at me over his shoulder. “Eager to feast your eyes on what I’m talking about?” His eyes were actually freaking alight with the thought of it.
“No, you sick bastard.”
“Oh.” His face actually fell, and he scowled. “The barn is just over this ridge, then.”
When he turned back around to face forward, he plodded like a little boy close to throwing a tantrum. Where did Rage find these idiots?
Just when I’d decided to hold my tongue since there was no way I was going to like anything the evil dude said, I decided to see if I could get information out of him instead. Who knew what would happen once he got me to this secret lair for crazies? I’d have to at least attempt to use my powers before we got to the barn. I didn’t feel remotely close to settled, but I’d have to try even if I wasn’t. In the meantime, knowledge was power.
“So…” I started, like we were acquaintances out for a stroll. “Who are you actually? Are you another dark sorcerer—like that Jevan guy?”
He chuffed. “No, I’m nothing like Jevan.” He pronounced the dead sorcerer’s name like it was sour. “He was a fool. I know what I’m doing.”
“How so?”
“Well, for starters, I’ve been at this a lot longer than he was. It runs in my family. My father is a genius sorcerer, a master of dark magic. And so was his father, and his grandfather. I come from a long line of awesomeness.”
“And … how old are you actually?” If I were to estimate his age based on maturity level, I might peg him at nine.
“I’m almost thirty,” he announced proudly, confirming that the ability to self-reflect wasn’t age dependent. “But I’ve been practicing magic since I learned to speak. I’m quite accomplished. If I told you who I was, I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”
“You’d have to be super famous for me to have heard of you,” I needled. “I doubt I have.”
He stomped angrily across the poor alfalfa plants, yanking at both my wrists, making me stumble as I hurried to keep up. “I’m pretty famous,” he said. “In the world of mages, at least. You aren’t a part of that world, so if you don’t recognize me it’s because you aren’t familiar, not because I’m not well known.”
“Actually, my real father is a mage. He wrote the authoritative works on supernaturals. I would have heard of you if you were recognized for your magic.”
The dark sorcerer ground to a halt and spun on me. When he glared at me through my father’s eyes, I swallowed thickly, feeling ridiculous and foolish for having believed I could manipulate someone as unhinged as he.
“My name is Radley Clark Raschund the Third.” Tilting his chin up, he peered down at me angrily across my dad’s straight nose.
Staring into those eyes that felt so foreign despite otherwise obvious appearances, I gulped. Crap. I actually had heard of him … and his large, equally-unhinged family. His was one of only a handful of sorcerer families that Dad mentioned in his Compendium. If I remembered correctly, he referenced the Raschund family as a highly dangerous group of sorcerers with high-level skill in the dark arts.
“Ah! So you have heard of me,” Radley exclaimed triumphantly.
I nodded. “Yeah, I have.”
“Good. So now you know why you shouldn’t mess with me.”
Again I nodded.
“I hope that also tells you why you shouldn’t try to escape like I know you’re thinking of doing.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
He cackled again. “You’d be stupid not to. But if you do try to escape, I’ll fry you on the spot. Just give me a reason to. I’ve been waiting to try this spell on someone, but it’s surprisingly difficult to find people to willingly allow me to liquefy their insides. I’d be grateful if you volunteered.”
“Wouldn’t Rage be upset with you if you did?” I asked, working to keep my voice from trembling. My bravado was beginning to reveal itself for what it was.
He shrugged, turning back around and leading me over a gentle hill. “He wouldn’t mess with me. He knows I could hurt him. Besides, he wouldn’t want to upset my dad. No one wants to upset my dad.”
Despite the fact that I was more terrified now that I’d learned of Radley’s pedigree, I still had to give it a shot. Right? For all I knew, he could be only pretending they’d captured my friends and held them hostage. I was the only one who’d run so far that I’d effectively eliminated any chance that anyone at the school could help me. My friends, Leander, and Ky hadn’t been that foolish. Though of course the academy was supposed to be impregnable—but that was before someone had taken over the Academy Spell.
“Are you the one who’s been controlling the Academy Spell?” I asked.
“Yep. Me and another sorcerer. He’s not as qualified as I am, but he still knows his way around a stupid academy spell.”
The Academy Spell was far from stupid. From everything I’d heard, and from what Dad said in his Compendium, the Academy Spell was a feat of extreme ingenuity and skill, the like of which hadn’t been seen since the wizards Albacus and Mordecai. Which was to say that if Radley and this other sorcerer had managed to infiltrate it to the extent they had, they were as highly skilled as Radley boasted.
“Have you enjoyed our little pranks?” Radley asked, crushing more alfalfa plants as he trundled ever closer to the barn. “I worried some of them might be a little infantile, but when I see you dressed in men’s clothing, I realize I was wrong. Our pranks were hilarious. I only wish we’d done more of them. After this, surely that stupid owl will finally call on someone with the power to actually sort it out. And if he calls on Albacus or Mordecai, we’ll probably be locked out for good.”
“Wait.” I stopped
moving, and he eventually turned to face me, a scowl at the ready. “Are you saying Albacus and Mordecai are … are they alive?”
He smirked and gave me a “your ignorance is so cute” look that I wanted to slap from his smug Father face. “Yes, they’re alive. Well, sort of. Not really, I guess, but alive enough to block access to their spell.”
“Are they alive or aren’t they? A person can’t be both.” I tried to wrench my wrist from his hold, but he only tightened his grip.
“You obviously don’t know much about magic. Wizards as skilled as those two can do a whole lot more than you think. They’ve just been a bit … unavailable lately, so we got lucky. But surely by now the bumbling owl has called them in.”
I couldn’t decide what to think about the news by the time he resumed our march. Though when I finally spotted the barn up ahead, I knew my time was running out.
Despite the potential consequences, I had to try something. I eyed the path ahead: more alfalfa. So I closed my eyes and trudged forward, all the while calling on my powers. At this point, I’d settle for either of them. Immediately both rose to the surface, and though my shifter magic was still weak, I could definitely sense it.
My mage power continued its laborious intertwining with my shifter magic, spinning the strands into one. And when I reached for it to aid me now, before anything could happen within, an explosion rocketed outside of me.
One second I was alert and hopeful. The next, my insides burned with the heat of a hundred suns, and I wrenched my eyes open, gasping for air.
All I saw was the sadistically-pleased grin on my not-father’s face. And then all I knew was pain, before I knew nothing at all.
20
Consciousness began to return in waves, and once it fully returned, I immediately wished it hadn’t. Groaning at the pain, which throbbed through just about every part of my body, I wrenched my eyes open. The act required a monumental effort, and I blinked repeatedly, working to clear the sensation of heavy glass marbles in the place of eyeballs.