by A. L. Knorr
Backing out of the gym, I wracked my brains, assuming the error had to be mine. I chewed my lip as I turned and jogged all the way back to my room where I could access my schedule on my laptop or my phone. I rarely carried tech around with me. Unless I was going to a library or lounge to study, I didn’t need it. Plus, fire and technology didn’t mix well, as many signs around the academy reminded.
By the time I arrived at my room I was panting. Snatching up my phone, I found my electronic schedule. It was kept up to date by Mrs. Goshawk, but I’d never had a location change before so I’d gotten into the habit of not looking at it. Scrolling to today’s date, I noticed an asterisk. Clicking on it opened a popup which announced that my skills class would be held at the forge inside the CTH. I gave a squeal and bolted, tossing my phone on my bed on my way out the door. Not only had I shown up in the wrong space, now I was late.
My heart pounding, I used my fire to take the stairs three steps at a time and sprint down the carpeted halls. Using the fire to run through the school was against the rules, in fact running through the school period was against the rules. But everyone was in class so there was no one around to prevent my mad dash.
Bouncing off a corner I skidded past the double doors and hooked a handle with my fingertips. The hinges groaned as I flew through the doors and into the CTH.
The headmaster chatted amiably with Professor Knight in a far corner. When I exploded through the door, they stopped talking and looked over. Headmaster Chaplin raised his wrist and mimed looking at a watch that wasn’t there. He stuck his bottom lip out in a parody of disappointment.
“I’m so sorry.” I panted as I ran across the floor toward the unique corner of the room known as the forge, which had a low ceiling equipped with industrial ventilation, and dark flooring. A bank of lockers sat outside the forge where students could stash any flammable stuff. The forge could get very hot.
“Hi, Professor Knight. I didn’t know I’d see you today, sorry to keep you waiting.”
Professor Knight’s eyes crinkled and his mustache twitched. “Forgot to click on the asterisk, did you? I do that from time to time. Goshawk should really use a blinking red light.”
“Thanks, Professor Knight.”
He waved a hand. “Alfred.”
Flashing him a grateful smile, I nodded and glanced to see if Basil would be as forgiving.
“Shall we get started, Saxony? Or did you need to use the restroom beforehand? Perhaps make a cheese sandwich?” But his tone was teasing.
“It won’t happen again, I’m ready.” I kicked off a snappy salute and looked around.
This was my first close look at the large rectangular patch of dull black material laid into the floor. My guess was that it was made of one of the metal alloys the agency had concocted. Strangely, it was not completely level, but tilted on an angle toward a line of space-age looking sinks. At the base of the sinks where the strange flooring ended were open gutters where water might drain away... or maybe, something molten.
Basil approached a seam in the wall and pressed. There was a click and a door pushed out of the wall. Sliding it to the side opened a walk-in closet. Following the headmaster inside revealed many drawers and cupboards, all closed. The ceiling had industrial looking ventilation and side-lighting. Along one wall were stations with crucibles and other equipment one might find in a forge, such as molds, hammers and anvils. There were no ovens, because whoever was using the room was the oven.
My stomach gave an excited flutter. “Are we forging metal today?”
“Not quite.” Alfred leaned against the door. “Today is Melting 101, but it begins with a demonstration only. We find students are more motivated to get through the theory after they’ve seen the practical.”
“The ability to melt metals quickly and skillfully has all kinds of benefits and applications, but none are more impressive than the one Alfred will show you.” Basil nodded to the professor, who unbuttoned the jacket he was wearing and took it off.
“This is not meant to frighten you, it’s meant to inspire you because the work you’ll need to put in to achieve mastery of melting will be tedious.”
I listened in bemusement. Frighten me? I didn’t understand until the headmaster went to the wall and slid a panel back to reveal an assortment of metal weapons. My heart did a flip as my gaze roamed the impressive collection of knives, throwing devices, and even a couple of handguns locked down with metallic straps.
I turned to stare at Basil. “I thought this was a skills class, not a combat class.”
“It is a skills class, but melting is a skill which goes hand in hand with combat.” The headmaster pulled out a long drawer. “Alfred, would you mind?”
Alfred turned his back so he couldn’t see the drawer’s contents.
Inside the drawer were at least sixty pockets, each containing metal bearings and raw chunks in various colors and sizes. As the drawer slid out, backlit labels glowed from beside each pocket. The headmaster reached inside the drawer’s cavity and flicked a switch. The labels disappeared as the light went out.
The headmaster plucked two bearings, each the size of marble, from different pockets. They were both silver and polished to a shine. He handed them to me.
“Can you tell me what these are, Saxony?”
I held them in my palm. “I would have guessed both were silver until you put them in my hand. Though they’re the same size, one is heavier than the other.”
Alfred turned around and held out his palm for the bearings. I dropped them into it. He held up one between each thumb and forefinger. “This one is pure silver, it has a melting point of 1761 degrees Fahrenheit.” He held up the other. “The lighter one is zinc, with a melting point of 787 Fahrenheit.”
The two bearings looked identical. My eyes popped. “How can you tell?”
“He can tell because he’s trained. Just as you will be before you graduate from Arcturus.” Basil took the bearings from Alfred and held one in each palm. He turned to me, hands held out.
“I’d like you to put a hand beneath each of mine. You’ll be able to feel for yourself that the temperatures I’m giving each metal are the same.”
I took a step closer and put my hands beneath his. I detected the rising temperature as the flesh of his palms began to glow and increase in brightness. Waves of hot air rose from his hands toward the ceiling. The whole room grew warm and Alfred moved to the door and flicked a switch. Cool air began to circulate as the headmaster’s hands continued to rise in temperature.
“We’re getting close, now,” Alfred said.
I nodded, eyes glued to the metal balls in Basil’s hands. Then one of the bearings—the zinc one—softened and flattened. Little fissures formed on its surface as the skin wrinkled and folded in on itself. Shortly, it was little more than a shiny puddle in the headmaster’s palm, totally reduced to a molten state. The silver bearing did not change color or shape.
I watched in amazement as Basil reversed the heat and brought the temperatures in his hands back down. Slowly, the zinc puddle congealed and began to reform into a perfect ball. By the time the headmaster’s hands were cool, the zinc looked just the way it had before he’d started.
My jaw dropped.
Basil smiled and dropped both of the bearings into my hand for inspection.
“How did you get the metal to reform?” I asked as I inspected the zinc.
“With a lot of practice. It’s called reconstitution or reconstruction.”
Right, he’d mentioned that while I’d been gaping at the hole the intruder had left in the metal shutter and window.
He went on: “It’s a fourth-degree ability and can only be done with metals and minerals. When you burn something wooden or textile, you won’t be able to reconstruct them. You’ll need to learn reconstruction in tandem with your melting skills. It’s more difficult to master. Only when you’ve shown you can reconstitute what you’ve melted will you be allowed to practice what Alfred will demonstrate for you now.
”
He held his hand out for the bearings and I passed them to him.
“I thought Alfred was a third-degree mage?”
“He is.” The headmaster dropped the bearings into their respective pockets.
“But he’s going to demonstrate reconstitution?”
“No. He doesn’t have that ability. I’ve shown you because you have the capacity to learn it, Alfred is going to demonstrate how melting is useful in combat. Since he’s third-degree, we will only be using metals that melt at temperatures of 3800 degrees Fahrenheit or less.”
Basil plucked another metal bearing out of one of the pockets and held it up next to the silver bearing. “This is aluminum. Note that it looks a lot like silver only a little lighter in color. Feel the difference in weight.”
He dropped both into my open palms.
“The silver is far heavier,” I observed.
“Yes, roughly five times heavier.” He took the aluminum back and gave Alfred a nod. “Stand on the hafnium, please.”
Alfred left the forging room and went to stand at the far end of the dark floor. As he went, he shucked off his t-shirt, exposing a barrel chest. With his torso bare like that, he reminded me of the photos and drawings of classic strongmen of the early twentieth century.
“Excuse my semi-nude state, Saxony.” He tossed his t-shirt off to the side. “You have to see skin to fully appreciate this skill.”
“That’s alr—”
Basil cocked his hand back and threw the bearing straight at Alfred’s chest.
I gasped as a bloom of light blossomed in his chest before the bearing struck the professor’s skin. The metal splattered like silver paint. I watched, mesmerized, as the liquid ran down Alfred’s chest and stomach. He collected it into his palm as he walked back to us. Flickers of pink and red beneath the skin of his palm kept the aluminum in a liquid state until Alfred deposited the metal into Basil’s outstretched hand. Once there, it rolled together into a clump and reformed itself into a ball.
“That was so cool!”
“Thank you, Alfred,” said Basil.
“My pleasure.” Alfred gathered up his t-shirt and pulled it on. “Remember Saxony, the melting point of any given metal is one thing, the heat you have to produce in order for that metal to liquify when it strikes your skin at speed is another thing entirely. If you’ll excuse me, I’m needed at the gym. Enjoy the rest of your class.” He headed for the door as he pulled on his jacket.
Basil went back into the walk-in closet, so I followed. The headmaster returned the bearing to its pocket and grabbed another. He beckoned me to follow him to a crucible.
“Today is an introductory lesson. We’ll not be putting you in the firing line of any metal objects, but...”
“Wait,” the words ‘firing line’ conjured a new and startling thought. “Can a mage stop a bullet with this method?”
Basil turned and cocked an eyebrow. “What do you think?”
I considered it. “I don’t think so. Bullets are too fast for a mage to melt them before they penetrate. You’d be dead before your fire could conjure the heat required.”
“That’s a reasonable guess.”
I waited for him to go on, but he just stood there expectantly, holding a gray cylinder.
“That’s it?” I moved to stand by him in front of a thick metal sink. “It’s a reasonable guess?”
“You’re in school for a reason, Saxony. To learn. Why don’t you let me teach you?” He held out the cigar shaped thing.
I took and inspected it. “What is it?”
“It’s bismuth. Describe it to me.”
I rolled the cool bar along my palm. “It’s a dull gray color, about as heavy as silver. Maybe a touch lighter.”
The headmaster plucked a small hammer from the wall and held it out for me to take.
“What happens when you hit it?”
I set the bar down in the crucible, took the hammer, and tapped the metal with it, not using too much force. To my surprise, the bar broke in half.
“It’s brittle.”
“Now what do you see?”
I picked up one half and inspected the newly broken end. “It’s all sparkly inside. Surprisingly pretty.”
“And how much heat does it require to melt it?”
Cupping the broken half in my palm, I ramped up the temperature until the bismuth began to melt. Color flashed and danced over the metal as it wrinkled like hot tinsel and finally settled into a puddle with scum on its surface. “Not much. Only 520 degrees Fahrenheit.”
“Is there a number on the right side of the decimal point?”
I narrowed my eyes and focused on the heat. “Point seven.”
“Very good.” The headmaster gestured I should drizzle the hot metal into the sink. “The homework should go quickly for you. You might be ready next semester.”
I frowned. “You won’t throw any metal at me until next year? But why?”
“Because your task is to become acquainted with all of the metals in that drawer. Observe them, melt them, do your best to reconstitute them. Record all your findings because you’ll be tested on them. Not until you can correctly identify the pure metals by sight and know all of their melting points and properties can you move to the next step.”
My heart sank. There were a lot of metals in that drawer. “And then you’ll throw metal at me?”
“No, then you have to study further to be able to identify and manipulate alloys. One thing at a time.”
I pulled a face and Basil laughed.
“Take comfort, Saxony. The metals may all look alike to your eyes now, but I assure you, they are as different from one another as snowflakes. It will become apparent as you work with them.” He nodded toward the sink.
When I looked at the bismuth, I gave a gasp of surprise and picked it up. As it had cooled, it had formed crystalline structures like little ziggurats and pyramids clustered together. A rainbow of colors painted the surface like it was covered in engine oil.
“May I keep this?”
“Perhaps when you graduate you can take a souvenir. For now, something like that in your room might catch the attention of another student and raise questions we don’t want to answer.”
Reluctantly, I let him take the bismuth and put it back in the drawer.
“You’ll find a document in your email tonight that will guide you through your homework.” He turned back to me and nodded at the door, so I left the walk-in closet.
He slid the panel closed. “Keep the document private. It’s important that you do not share it with anyone as it contains information only fourth- and fifth-degree mages are privy to. You can do the work at your own pace and challenge the test when you’re confident.”
My stomach flopped over. “What happens if I fail?”
Basil cocked his head. “Why assume you’ll fail? You haven’t even begun.”
I huffed. “I’ll be lucky to have them all memorized by next spring.”
He thumped a hand on my back as we left the combat gym. “Best get to work, then.”
Eighteen
Spy
When I returned to my room that night after dinner, I was supposed to fetch a pack of cards to play a game with Gage, Tomio, Dar, and April. Checking my laptop quickly, I noticed the email from Secretary Goshawk entitled ‘Metals, Minerals & Gems Workbook’.
“Gems?” I wondered aloud as I sat and perched my laptop on my knees. The headmaster hadn’t said anything about working with gems.
Double-clicking on the workbook opened a document of two-hundred-two pages. My heart sank as I scrolled through and saw all of the blank spaces where the workbook required me to add information. Had I signed up for training to become a fifth-degree mage or a geologist?
Scrolling back to the introduction, I noted that some compounds had been labeled with a small explosion emoji. The legend said I was not to work with these elements without a professor present. Metals had been broken down into categories: alkali, earth, ba
sic, transition, metalloids, gems, and at the very end marked ‘very advanced’ were alloys and synthetics. The last two categories didn’t include any worksheets, rather they’d been added to let the student know there was more to learn, but not in this class.
I scrolled through the first dozen worksheets, looking at all the information I was required to discover beyond melting point, weight, atomic number and electron configuration. The table of the elements was familiar to me from high-school science classes, but it appeared I was about to get schooled in a much more visceral way.
“Are you coming, Saxony?” April’s voice came from my open doorway and I looked up, heart doing a triple-beat as I turned my laptop’s screen away from her line of sight.
“Ah, sorry April. I got distracted by a new homework assignment.” I closed my computer and set it on my bed. Going to my desk, I opened my top drawer and pulled out the deck of playing cards I had come to my room for in the first place.
I crossed to April and gave it to her. “You guys go ahead and play without me. I need to absorb the scope of this homework.”
She peered at my laptop with vague interest. “Anything you need help with?”
I put a hand on my door and pulled it closed just a few inches, hoping she’d pick up on the clues in my body language.
“No, thanks. I’ll let you know though. Have fun with the boys.”
At the mention of boys her interest in my homework evaporated. “Okay, if you’re sure.”
I nodded. “Night. See you tomorrow.”
Turning back to my computer, I chewed my lip and leaned against the door, thinking. It was after nine, which meant I had two hours before I had to be back in my room for the night. I could get a lot done in two hours, plus the combat hall and forge were guaranteed to be empty at this time. After a day of classes, nobody had the energy to do any more practical work except for me because the majority of my time was spent on boring high-school courses.