by J. B. Markes
“Watch it carefully,” I added. “If it doesn’t bleed or burn, then it’s further proof it isn’t real.”
“None of it’s real,” Theodore replied.
“Of course, it isn’t,” I said. “But we’ll see how cocky you are when you’re staring down a twelve-foot monstrosity. Real or not, it’s hard not to flinch when it’s making a swipe at you. And if you doubt—if you falter for even a second—you’ll wake up in the infirmary with Guthry. Yes, I heard about what you did; if it happens again, I’ll send you there myself.”
Regina was next to enter, eyes wide with surprise. “You’re not supposed to be here,” she whispered, taking me by the elbow and escorting me to the corner, out of earshot from the others. “You’re supposed to be—”
“In my room, I know. I’m not doing that anymore. I’m an apprentice and I won’t be treated like a red-robe.”
“You know I’m your friend, right?” she asked. “I mean, I only want the best for you.”
“What is it now?” I asked. Regina always got defensive when withholding information from me, which was one of the things I liked most about her. She was so easy to read.
“You’re getting dismissed,” she said.
“What?”
“Don’t be mad. I just learned this morning. Master Virgil made the decision. He told me not—”
“Master Virgil?” I asked, rubbing the frustration from my face. “This is Inspector Raines’s fault. Him and his questions.”
“Who’s that?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I can’t believe this!”
“I would have told you earlier, but I was busy preparing for the exercises. You weren’t in your room this morning.”
“Where is Master Virgil now?” I wiped the sweat from my forehead. “When was he going to tell me about it?”
“I don’t know. He’s up on the balcony with the other masters. The battle is about to start.”
It had finally happened. I had become a liability for the manifestation school. Inspector Raines must have seen it coming; perhaps Master Virgil had told him directly. It’s amazing what a rejection from this noble institution will do for you in the outside world, Raines had said. I would soon find out.
“I need a volunteer to sit out,” I said, turning away from my horrified friend.
“You’re joking,” Reardon said, shaking his head.
“Miss Ives?” At once, the concern washed away from Wickam’s features. “I don’t mind.”
“Thank you, Wickam. I promise I’ll work one-on-one with you in the coming days—if I’m still here. In the meantime, please go to the enchanters and tell them an apprentice will be taking the field.”
“You can’t do that!” Regina grabbed Wickam before he could leave to deliver the message. He was understandably torn between his two orders. “It’s against the rules.”
“No, it’s not,” I said. “It’s just against tradition. As long as the other team is informed, there’s nothing that says I can’t compete.”
“It’s not in the spirit of the exercise,” she added meekly, but my scowl was enough to make her feel silly. “You can’t do this. You’ll be—they’ll—”
“They’ll what? Expel me?” I asked. I gave Wickam a quick nod and he ran off. Regina covered her mouth with both hands. Of the remaining four initiates, only Theodore seemed eager to get out into the yard. Nester and Elaine seemed more confused than worried, and Julian’s blank expression didn’t inspire confidence.
“The Tower of Hands welcomes the Tower of the Mind to the third quarter fellowship games.” The booming voice of Master Warren filled the area. The commencement speech was amplified so as to reach every interested mage this side of the Tower of Seeing, making it difficult for us to hear each other in the open air of the wings. “The Academy Magus has suffered a great loss over the past days. In light of such tragedy, some may question the timing of these games, but now more than ever, it is imperative—”
“They’ll send their own apprentices out,” Theodore shouted with a mad grin.
“How many apprentices does the Tower of the Mind have?” Julian asked.
“Three.” Reardon’s deep voice was nearly swallowed by Master Warren’s announcement. “They just named their third a few weeks ago because their senior apprentice is moving up.”
“This should be fun,” Theodore said. “Are we sure we don’t want to use our wands?”
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Nester said. “Three apprentices.”
“Hold the wands, then,” Regina said, thrusting the stalks into his trembling hands. “I’ll take your place.” She answered my appreciative glance with a roll of her eyes. “They’ll respond in full force. You’ll get killed without me.”
“Figuratively speaking, right?” Julian asked.
“Anyone else want to sit out?” I asked. “You won’t be blamed and Reardon could take your spot.”
“I’m not getting involved in this,” the apprentice said. “And neither should you, Regina. You want to get expelled with her?”
“Well, I’m not going to let her go by herself,” Regina replied.
“I’m out,” Reardon said, backing away and dropping the initiates’ wands on a nearby table. “I’m going to sit with the other apprentices. I was never here.”
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Theodore put his arm around Elaine’s shoulders and squeezed, but she slapped him hard enough to put an end to his sport.
“Wizards, take the field!”
“Listen up!” Regina was back in charge. “We’re using only force spells against the mages themselves; we don’t want to kill anyone. But don’t hold back otherwise. Illusions are as potent as any other magic. Don’t trust your eyes.”
“Let’s go.” I led the others from the wings to the main courtyard, where we had spent so many months training in practical magic. As usual, there was a big turnout. Being the largest and flashiest school, the Tower of Hands always drew the most spectators during the games.
The yard had been converted into a miniature stadium. The front row of seating was reserved for visiting masters, but these were always empty, save for one or two trained healers on hand for emergencies. Behind this row were the initiates of the two competing schools. Theodore and Julian waved to their fellows, who cheered them on, bolstering their confidence.
In the center of the yard, the training dummies had been replaced by wooden walls erected at random intervals—handicaps to keep the illusionists from being overrun. I looked up to the floating balcony far above, where the masters of our schools watched on with growing interest. They had never seen the apprentices escort the orange-robes to the arena before.
I could see the opposing team, led by three yellow-robes, entering the arena from the far side. Regina was right. They had received the challenge and responded with everything they had. I rushed out into the yard with a sudden eagerness to draw attention to myself. If this was to be my last day as an apprentice at the Academy Magus, I would give them a show they would never forget.
I didn’t allow the enemy a chance to position themselves. I launched a ball of fire at the most distant barricade and my heart fluttered. The flash of light came before the plasma orb erupted, obliterating the wooden barrier and leaving a smoldering crater in its stead. Regina fell into step instantly, sending orbs of her own to dismantle two other obstructions. If the illusionists wanted to hide, they would have no choice but to advance.
Elaine stayed close to me, and Julian was playing it safe as well, never straying far from Regina. True to form, Theodore went his own way and the battle began in earnest. One of the other school’s apprentices launched her own fireball so perfectly round that I could never have mistaken it for the real thing, but Theodore twirled mid-step and jumped for cover. The orb struck and there was a muffled blast, like the sound of water filling one’s ears. Theodore’s wall remained intact but rattled under the stress of the impact.
“They’re enhancing thei
r spells with shadow magic,” I said.
“What’s that mean?” Elaine asked, rushing behind the closest barricade.
“Be careful not to be struck or you will feel it. It’s not real, but the wind and sound of it might convince you that it is.”
With Theodore pinned in the middle of the arena, I led Elaine around the outside, using the walls for cover whenever possible. The crowd cheered as I sprinted along the edge of the seats, determined to close in on the enemy; they would prove far less of a threat once I had them in my sight. But when I rounded the final arc, I found no sign of the enchanters anywhere.
“They’ve gone invisible,” Elaine said, but I was too winded to reply. She had barely finished her words when a grumbling and scratching sound came from behind a nearby wall. “We’ll never find them until it’s too late.”
“Relax,” I said, coughing as an orange-and-black head peered around the corner, sizing us up. “We don’t run, understand? It can’t hurt us.”
“It’s a tiger,” Elaine whispered, and the beast strolled lazily out into the open, growling and peering at us with hungry eyes. She cast a minor ward that would do nothing to protect her, only feed her own fear.
“You’ve seen a city cat on the hunt,” I said reassuringly, pressing close against her to keep my voice low. “Look at the tail swaying back and forth, unlike any other of its kind. It moves more like a dog, and its colors are too vivid to be true.”
I stepped forward and opened my arms, instigating warning shouts from nearby spectators. The false tiger made its move, but I had already seen through it. To my eyes, it was nothing more than a ball of light. It flew through the air and hovered about my body like an angry gnat. I moved my attention to the wall whence it came—a wall I was certain I had already destroyed.
The wooden barrier crumbled into burning bits beneath my scrutiny and revealed two wizards in hiding. No doubt the tiger had belonged to the initiate, but the apprentice was casting now. The mage created a black mass of twisting tentacles that lurched and rolled into the open, heading straight for Elaine, who froze up.
I spread my hands instinctively, focusing on the ground beneath the wizards’ feet. By the time they noticed the earth shifting, I had already completed my incantation. The densely-packed clay shattered and blasted upward, sending them flying and bringing the crowd to its feet. The apprentice’s concentration now disrupted, the midnight terror dissolved just as it was descending upon its victim. The image melted around Elaine and dissipated into the ether, leaving her wide-eyed and shaking.
I, too, was trembling. The magic was taking hold. I hadn’t exerted myself to that extent in weeks. I followed the apprentice illusionist as he landed, twisting my wrist and piling earth on top of him, burying him up to his neck. Sweat trickled from my forehead and I felt the heat in the core of my being. Eventually, I reached Elaine and helped her back to her feet.
“Watch the orange-robe,” I said. “If he gets up, blast him again.”
She only jerked her head in reply, so I shook her back to her senses. Finally, she pushed me off and ran over to the unconscious boy still lying face-down in the dirt, so I left her to it and rushed toward the sounds of battle on the far side of the arena.
As the seconds wore on, the sickness welled up inside me. It was difficult to distinguish the usual feeling of magic sickness from my own personalized version. I was giddy and nauseous, and thirsting for more. When I came upon the scene, I was startled by the sight of Regina huddled low in a ball. She was being attacked by a pair of walking corpses.
The undead servants were groaning and lashing out at her clumsily as if lacking the muscle control to do her any real harm. The real enemy—the other orange-robe—blocked my path with his back to me, carefully controlling the monsters to keep Regina from regaining her feet. I had to free her if we were to make our stand.
I scanned the area for Theodore or Julian, wondering how they were faring against the remaining two—or three?—mind mages. Finding no one in the immediate vicinity, I walked directly toward the initiate. So focused was he on his illusion that he never turned toward me. When I reached his side, I placed a hand on his shoulder and he jumped forward.
“Gongbaltha,” I whispered. The force-blast launched him into the air, sending him thirty feet. He didn’t stop rolling until he hit the outer wall of the arena. He didn’t get back up. I turned back to Regina to find her still huddled against her assailants, but the scene was fuzzy and I had trouble focusing my vision for more than a second or two at a time.
The creatures hadn’t disappeared, which meant the caster was still out there, most likely observing us. Nevertheless, I couldn’t leave Regina in such a state. I ran toward the creatures, but stumbled and fell into the dirt. A bitter coughing spell washed over me and it took all my effort to regain my feet.
Once I had steadied my equilibrium and my nerve, I took a deep breath and noted the smell of death wasn’t in the air. These zombies’ movements were too fluid, more like dancers one might see in the city streets. They bore little resemblance to the one I had seen just days before in the Archseer’s chamber. The illusion was incomplete. I wiped away my clouded vision and reached through the glamers, taking Regina by the arm. The dead men vanished into harmless twinkling orbs and Regina grabbed both of my wrists tightly.
“It’s okay,” I said, breathing deep to settle my stomach. “There are two left, I think. We have to help Theodore and Julian, wherever they are.”
But my legs weren’t cooperating. My knees buckled and I fell, gasping for air. Regina stepped back and let me fall. My vision tunneled and I struck my head on the hard ground. The sudden motion made me gag and I tasted iron. I reached up to Regina but she made no move to help me. She stood over me smiling. Her hair changed colors and her face rearranged to someone I didn’t recognize.
“Gongbaltha.” I raised my hand to blast her—but nothing happened. I repeated the command word a second time, and a third, but I couldn’t focus enough to complete the spell.
“You lose,” the apprentice said as she passed her hand over me. She seemed unhappy with the results, because she waved twice more to no effect. Finally she took a step back and evoked a minor force incantation, using my own magic against me, but the unseen missile popped and dissolved harmlessly just before impact, almost as if I was protected by an anti-magic barrier.
The cheers of the crowd followed me for a few seconds as the apprentice stared at me dumbfounded. I could hear the nearby initiates calling my name from the stands, urging me to get back up, but I was spent. The mind mage loomed over me, unsure what to try next. Her quizzical expression was the last thing I remember seeing before I blacked out. By the time I woke up again, the games were over, as was my life as a student of the Academy Magus.
Chapter 17
My body was heavy. I felt the soft sheets of a bed much more comfortable than those I was used to, but when I stretched my arms above my head, my aching muscles denied me the pleasure of it. It was bright and warm in this spot, and I might have stayed there forever if I hadn’t opened my eyes.
“Izzy.” Regina leaned over me. I took her hand to ensure it was the real Regina.
My eyes wanted to close, but when Regina patted my face rapidly five or six times, I grunted and tried to sit up. I managed to lift my head from the pillow, but then let it fall when I realized I would never make it all the way up. Instead, I closed my eyes again for a second. Regina resumed her patting.
“I’m up,” I said, pulling my face away, but my voice was a dry rasp. “Thirsty.”
“Oh gods, Izzy. Just a minute.” Regina dropped my hand and disappeared, and the next thing I knew she was patting my face again. I grumbled in protest and opened my eyes to see some strange man slapping me. Regina was too excited to answer my questioning glare.
“Thirsty,” I repeated.
“Is that okay?” Regina asked, and the man nodded.
“Isabel, I need you to stay awake for me, okay?” The man appeared to b
e my age, and he spoke with the soft assurance of a father to his daughter. He pointed to the glass on the table and Regina retrieved it, emptying its stale contents and waving a hand over its brim to manifest fresh water. “Drink as much as you like.”
He put the glass to my lips but tipped it sooner than I expected. The water went down the wrong way and left me choking for air. My throat burned all the more, but the man placed a hand behind my back and sat me up to help me breathe. It hurt to sit upright.
“You’ve been asleep for almost two days,” he said. “We weren’t sure you’d wake up again.”
“I need to get up,” I said, accepting charge of the glass and taking small sips.
“You need to stay down, but stay awake. I’m going to get the master, and he’ll explain things.”
“I don’t need him. I’ve already heard his explanations.”
“Perhaps if you hear them again, you’ll remember them better the next time,” he said, passing Regina on the way out. “Don’t let her sleep.”
“What’s with him?” I asked.
“What’s with you?” she replied, cutting her tirade short when I rolled my eyes.
“I need to get out of here.”
“You’re not going anywhere, so just make yourself comfortable. You’re going to rest up here for a few days and get your strength back.”
I fell back to lay my head on the pillow and sighed. There was an ache behind my eyes, growing sharper with each passing moment. I closed them to block out the light, but Regina grabbed my shoulder and shook me hard.
“Not that comfortable,” she said. “Wake up. I think your friend is back.”
“What friend?” I asked with a yawn, following her gaze beyond the curtained entrance.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know. He’s been here three times since yesterday. Not very subtle, is he?”
“Well, the best thing about being dismissed is I don’t have to worry about what other people think anymore, right?”
“I guess. Button up your robes and I’ll send him in on my way out. I’m sure you’ll want some privacy. But you better be quick; the healer will be back soon.”