by A. L. Knorr
Emerging from the dining hall, I was pleased to see that the burglar hadn’t gone far. He must have assumed my latest assisted skid across the floor had been enough for me to abort this foolhardy mission.
He stood facing away from me, a hand braced against his lower back as though feeling something tucked into the back of his pants, which surely couldn’t be gun or he would have pulled it on me by now. I assumed it was whatever he’d stolen from Basil.
“Stop running,” I snarled as fire warmed my arm and shoulder, ratcheting up power. “And I’ll stop chasing, boy.”
He spun as I launched a stone sphere with fire-born strength. Those gymnast reflexes let him keep all of his teeth as he recoiled, but he staggered and barely kept his balance as the sphere sailed past his ear. It thudded on the carpet beyond him and careened down the hall. By the time he was upright I’d already hefted the second one.
His hands flew up, coronas of emerald flame belching from his fingers. Too little, too late. I smiled, feeling a touch evil, as the stone struck him in the stomach.
His fire winked out as the air whooshed from his lungs. Bent double, hands on knees, he gasped and wheezed. He looked up, mouth hanging open as he dragged in air, fixing me with a venomous glare. The look might have given me pause if I’d nurtured a little self-preservation; instead I used the time to cover the space left between us, final orb in hand. My eyes grew hot and hard and I knew they were glowing like lamps. My jaw clenched with a righteous vengeance I could almost taste.
A startling emotion scampered through me like a rabbit as I advanced: I was … enjoying this. Something had to be wrong with me but I shoved that aside for later analysis.
Fire burned beneath my ribs and down my limbs as I raised my stone-loaded fist to level him once and for all. He remained bent over, his jaw hanging open like a halfwit. Turned out to be an act because he snapped a kick and clipped my shin, just as I fired the blow I’d hoped would send him into unconsciousness. My thrust went wide and I was thrown off balance, staggering past him. I used momentum to swing the orb in a half-circle toward the back of his head.
He tried to dodge sideways, arms lifted to protect his face and head. Swinging the stone like a wrecking ball, I bounced two blows off his upraised forearms. He unleashed a curse after each blow. When he dropped to a knee and then fell onto his back, I couldn’t keep from gloating.
“And stay down.” I stood over him, hefting the stone.
He put his palms up in a pantomime of surrender, but my glee at having put him down evaporated at the glimmer of craftiness in his eyes. It was a look that said he knew something I didn’t. My body tensed, fingers clenched around the orb. My shoulder and arm begged for a reason to detonate fire behind a jawbreaker of a blow.
“You got me,” he drawled. Half a second later, sapphire spikes of flame sprang from his palms.
I threw myself back, narrowly escaping the searing edge of the rising flame. A strong chemical stink filled the air as my clothes and hair stirred in the hot wind of those unnatural flames. Heart drumming steadily, I scrambled away. Fear punctured my confidence like the tip of a sword and I shrank back. Instinctively, I knew those flames could hurt me, mage or not. For the first time since receiving my powers, I was afraid of fire. What magic was this? What kind of supernatural could conjure these colored monstrosities that smelled so strange?
I soon realized with cautious relief that the flames weren’t aimed at me.
Stretching across the ceiling arced an exposed beam. The intruder’s blue flames jetted past me toward the stones overhead, scouring the only wood within reach. In the wake of those azure flames, tongues of red and orange sprang up along the timber. Fire zoomed along the wood and in the time it took to inhale a deep breath, a vast stretch of the beam was ablaze.
Throwing my only empty hand out and up, I coaxed the blaze toward its demise, watching with a harsh sigh as it dwindled immediately. The noxious blue flames had sparked the fire, but at least these flames were of the generic variety, the kind I could extinguish. It took precious seconds to quiet the smoldering timber, which was all the intruder needed.
He was on his feet and down the hall at a fire-fueled sprint.
“Oh, come on!” I almost shrieked as I threw the last orb in frustration. I’d been aiming for his back but I’d detonated at the wrong moment, weakening the throw. The smooth stone hit the floor, rolled across the carpet and struck a baseboard, leaving a nice dent in the wood. It ricocheted off the wall and bounced along the flagstone between the baseboard and the runner. It followed him as he reached the exit.
Racing after the intruder I bit back a curse that almost became a laugh as the sphere caught up to him and grazed his ankle.
It was enough to make him stumble as he reached the double doors, slamming against them hard enough the frame rattle. Not bothering to look back, he yanked on a handle and rushed through. A flash of the word ‘auditorium’ registered from the plaque over the door as I hurtled after him. I had enough sense to pause and peek through, in case of an ambush with those caustic blue flames.
Rows of seats filled the small theater but as the door closed behind me, I lost sight of details. Sconces along the wall gave the dreary illumination of a theater before the feature had begun. But I caught a flash of light from the opposite corner as a torch flared from the intruder’s hand, which he held straight up over his head. A hissing sound began, making my body tense as I looked around for its source.
Feeling with my hands, I slid through a row of seats but stopped when I was met by a wall of brackish white mist. It descended from above like a heavy fog, shrouding me in a cloying embrace. My clothes became damp, my skin slick, my hair corkscrewed and clung together in wet spirals. I fought the urge to retreat as I became swaddled in a blanket of steam. Overhead, a sprinkler head vented thick clouds of moisture—hot steam from the pipes he had heated. As the pipes cooled, the steam became water.
The sound of a distant footstep told me he was moving away. It was all I needed. Plunging through the shrouded space, visibility reduced to feet, my heart skittered with frightened determination. Tempted to light a flame to see by, I resisted the urge. It was time to be more covert.
Ahead and to my left I heard a thump and a hissed breath.
I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t see anything.
I squatted in the misty dark, ears straining.
Another thump came, this one closer. My stomach gave a sickening twist. Was he trying to double back on me?
I let him inch his way closer, listening to his near silent footfalls. He paused near level with me, only a row of theater seats between us.
I didn’t move a muscle, and didn’t dare draw on my fire just yet. Squatting there, water trickling down my face and back, I didn’t breathe until he took a few steps past me. I was as sure of his position now as I ever would be.
Detonations rushed through my body as I launched in his direction, crackling through my legs and back. Hands outstretched, I had a terrifying instant where I sailed through the steamy air, certain I’d missed and was about to crash. Then I struck, my shoulder cracking against his ribs.
He gave a wounded grunt, his slight, sinewy build folding around me like a ragdoll as I bowled him over. Then we were rolling across the carpeted aisle twisting and grabbing.
In the darkness and swirling steam his features were fuzzy, but I didn’t need to see him well as I wrenched and shoved with fire-fueled strength. I managed to clamber on top, legs clenching either side of his heaving chest. Eyes blazing hot, I cocked a fist back.
“Stop,” I growled, fire-light flashing from my mouth. “Stop now or start losing teeth.”
He bucked, hard. Throwing his hips forward in one smooth motion, he sent me flying once again, my legs losing their hold. I flailed in the darkness, landing poorly with my face mashed into the carpet.
Ignoring the pain, I rolled and exploded to my feet, swinging out blindly. He checked the blow with an arm that materialized out of nowhere.
The force of his block jarred my shoulder and I fell on all fours.
Something hard took me across the ribs and my whole body curled inward. Winded, I craned my neck toward the source of the blow. A flicker appeared under his shirt that went down into his legs just before he lashed out.
Pain exploded in my ribs as even the memory of breathing left me in a heavy rush. I bounced down the slope of the aisle, arms curled over my head and knees tucked in. Like a human tumbleweed I rolled a lopsided path toward the stage before my shoulder caught on one of the last rows of chairs and I came to an ungraceful stop.
I heard a door open and peered through the gloom from the floor in front of the last row, chest heaving in pain.
Curls of cooling steam turned to writhing silver threads around the intruder as he stood silhouetted in the light.
“Stay,” he paused and took an audible breath, “down.” Then he ducked through the exit and was gone.
I forced air into my lungs and buried the urge to stay there.
Snarling through a fresh batch of aches and pains, I rose. In spite of the beating he’d delivered, I felt a smile curling at the edges of my mouth as I started toward the door. I was hurting, but so was he. Pain would cost him time and focus. I had him right where I wanted him. Okay, maybe not quite, but these are the crazy things we tell ourselves in mad moments.
I opened the door to catch sight of him limping down a hall of student’s rooms on one side and shuttered windows on the other. I followed, torso throbbing. Not feeling quite ready to pounce on him, I kept my distance. My footsteps were muffled to near silence in the carpet. I couldn’t underestimate him, not again.
He led me to a landing adjoining a broad, carpeted stairwell. His uneven steps plodded down the stairs to the second floor, then came the heavy thunk of a door opening and closing. Tucking in a breath and pushing just a little fire into my joints. I took the stairs down two at a time.
Drawing the door open I was rewarded by the sight of the intruder making his way down another long hallway. My heart buoyed. We were as close to Basil’s office as I’d been since we’d begun this wild chase.
I stayed back as I tailed him, a hand on my aching shoulder. Any moment now, a professor would appear at the end of the hall to cut the intruder off. They just had to. I’d been alone in this for far too long already. If I didn’t know Basil, I might have guessed he’d told the instructors to stay away to see how I’d fare. But the idea was ridiculous and I rejected it the same moment it surfaced.
He passed door after door, coming ever closer to the main staircase which led down into the foyer. Arriving at the landing, I expected him to take the stairs down to the lobby, or at least look back over a shoulder to see if he was being followed. He did neither.
He crossed the wide landing at a confident walk, even if he was limping a little, and ducked inside the headmaster’s office.
I picked up the pace.
Seven
Dead End
Skidding to a halt inside the door of Basil’s office, I turned sideways as a fireball flew past my head. My hand flashed out to catch it but I missed. The flaming projectile arced over the stairwell and went bouncing along the carpet, sending a spray of cinders to pepper the wallpaper and trim. Sparks kindled along the carpet runner and tendrils of smoke curled into the air. Indecision pulled me apart as I crouched tensely in the doorway, hoping the carpeting didn’t catch. A cloud of smoke hung low in the air over the hall but the cinders sputtered and died, much to my relief. Letting out a breath, I turned back to the office.
He stood behind Basil’s desk, gaze darting about the room.
“There’s nowhere to go.” I advanced a few steps, my eyes hot and my fire rumbling with energy. “The others are on their way, you’ll be outnumbered and outmatched. Time to give up.”
His upper lip curled, dark eyes probing mine. He slid a few steps sideways, passing a wingback chair and edging closer to the nearest metal-shuttered window. A smug smile hinted at his lips but didn’t fully form as he reached a hand out toward the glass.
Footsteps came from down the hall and relief filled my limbs as I heard familiar voices. Basil and Alfred appeared in the doorway. They stepped beside me, radiating tension.
“Who are you?” Basil moved in front of the book case while Alfred circled from the other direction.
The intruder’s eyes lit to a bright orange then slid to white like a dimmer switch had cranked the fire in his insides to full power. Heat radiated in waves from his hand, I could feel it from across the room.
The metal shutter on the outside of the window went from black to glowing a devilish red. The glass rippled and warped. A layer of paint or glaze on the security shutter sizzled, then cracked and peeled back like a living substance in retreat.
I unleashed a shocked scream as the intruder crouched and sprang at the window.
Before I could comprehend what was happening, Basil and Alfred darted forward at a sprint. Alfred leapt at the intruder but his arms closed around empty air and he landed hard on his stomach. Basil stopped short because the intruder was already gone.
He’d taken a flying leap and disappeared through the window, sending the melted glass splashing out in slow moving globs that looked like fat cartoonish droplets. A hole yawned from the center of the metal shutter, glowing and oozing at the edges.
My stomach did a full rotation as I darted across the room, firing energy in my joints. Landing at the window, I peered out, eyes wide as the intruder stumbled across the grass. He tripped and fell, rolling over once, then got to his feet and ran across the lawn and up the driveway, staggering.
I tensed, preparing to jump out after him when Basil put a hand on my shoulder to stop me.
“Leave him, Saxony.” His eyes were adrenaline-bright as they followed the intruder getting away with his contraband. “I appreciate that you want to go after him, but I’m not about to allow your first lesson in dropping from two stories to happen today. Let him go.”
In spite of his drunken zigzag, the intruder was up the hill and out of sight in moments. My heart crashed against my ribs, not just from having lost our chance at recovering whatever the kid had stolen, but from what I’d seen him do.
The metal shutter had cooled but sported a long, ragged oval hole. Its edges were melted back and lumped with ridges and wrinkles. The window had the same kind of hole, but the rest of it was without fracture or crack. Astonished, I touched the smooth edge of the glass.
“He went right through the window and the metal shutter. H-how? Basil, how did he do this?” My fingertips traced the lumpy edges of the hole in the window, rolled back and solidified like they’d been intentionally formed that way by a professional glass-blower.
Basil frowned at the damaged metal shutter. “Clearly, I need to update these safety shutters.”
My mind staggered. “How is it possible that a mage could do this? Or was he some other kind of supernatural? I saw him make blue fire. Blue! It smelled like chemicals. How—?”
Alfred, dusting off his trousers, joined us at the window and took note of the strange way the metal had reformed. He didn’t look surprised and that was both comforting and disturbing.
“You will be capable of this before too long yourself, Ms. Cagney.” Alfred put out a hand to feel the rippled opening in the window pane. “It takes skill, but temper your amazement. Did he stagger away like he was drunk?”
I nodded. “How did you know that? You were too far back to see.”
“It drains a mage to do what he did,” Alfred explained. “He’ll need time to recover. It’s why he wouldn’t have done it unless it was a last resort.”
“I guess that explains why I just spent the last half hour running all over this bloody place after him,” I griped.
Alfred nodded. “He was hoping for an easier way out. If he were more capable, he would have been able to reform the shutter and the window to their original state after passing through them. It is possible to do such a thing and leave
behind no trace.”
Peering at the front lawns and up the driveway, though the intruder was long gone, Basil added: “He may be capable of reconstruction but didn’t bother. We’d already seen his face, we can identify him, so there was no need for him to cover his tracks.”
“Fire magi can go through walls … will wonders never cease?” I muttered, feeling dazed.
“The Burned can.”
I shot Basil a look of understanding, feeling a little stupid I hadn’t realized it myself. “Of course,” I breathed, “he’s Burned. I was stupid not to realize it.”
“Don’t feel stupid. None of us are accustomed to the Burned being so young. It’s part of why no one suspects you.”
“But who was he, and what did he steal?”
Basil addressed Alfred. “Would you mind finding Tyson? Let him and Wanda know so they can inform the students what happened and get the security system rebooted.”
Alfred nodded and slipped from the office.
Basil moved to his desk and picked up an empty envelope. “I should have known better than to have the samples sent to the academy, but I was so busy preparing for the Fire Fair that I didn’t have time to ship them to the Agency and I needed to sign off on them so I didn’t cause a bottle neck.”
“Samples?” I approached the desk. Basil put down the envelope and I picked it up to read the from address. “It’s from the Agency?”
Basil nodded.
“How come you never told me about it before?”
“Why would I?” The headmaster’s brow wrinkled. “You’re only beginning your first semester.”
Something inside me dropped a little. I was Basil’s only Burned student, the only one whose capabilities might soon match his own, or so I hoped. I had to admit that I was disappointed he hadn’t mentioned the agency as a possible career path for me. A little voice piped up saying that I knew nothing about what the agency did. Assuming Basil would let me in on it before my training had commenced was pure arrogance. I bit my tongue and shoved the disappointment into a far corner relegated to irrational feelings. I turned my mind instead to the item which had lured the thief in the first place.