The Broken Academy 2 : Power of Magic

by Jade Alters

  Emery,

  Memory Trap,

  “Emery? Where in the hell are you?” Hoster’s voice rains down from the clouds just a second before the thunderclap. The lightning flash deposits him beside the pond in the Clearlake garden of my memory.

  “Here, I’m here,” I leap up from the stone bench to tell him. I raise my hands to make myself even easier to find.

  “You know what I mean!” Hoster shouts with an unprecedented level of rage. It must show on my face how alarmed it makes me because he immediately tones down. “They took Helena and then you just disappeared. The only reason I could even track you was because of how many times I’ve been to this place. Where in the world are you, Emery?”

  “Dunnigan,” I tell him, eyes down.

  “Where’s that?”

  “About halfway between San Francisco and Six Rivers,” I admit, softly.

  “Emery, no,” Hoster groans. His shimmering Astral form slumps over in disbelief.

  “Hoster, I had to do something. The Core Lines will eat Helena alive when she gets to the Grotto in Six Rivers,” I try to explain to him as calmly as I can. I try to emulate enough calm for both of us, what with the absolute madness bulging in Hoster’s eyes.

  “You could have - you should have gotten help!” Hoster insists. The stomp of his spectral shoe, where once there was only a wispy spiritual tail makes a remarkably loud sound. The depth of Hoster’s emotion manifests in every unintentional burst of power.

  “The Council made their decision clear… I wasn’t about to go to them for help,” I mumble, because I hear the fault in my decision as I say it out loud.

  “Not the Council, Emery! Me!” Hoster’s booming voice drills its way through the thickness of a skull padded with years of self-reliance. “Why didn’t you come get me?” The question shakes from his lips, almost a whimper. “You shouldn’t do this alone.”

  “I’m not alone,” I tell him. My hand glides instinctively to his shoulder. When it finds him, it’s not the tiny fingers of my childhood memory but the grip of a grown woman that clenches the shoulder of his glowering blue shirt. I elect not to mention Darius. At this very moment, I don’t actually mean Darius. “Thank you, Hoster.” I channel all the very real gratitude overwhelming my chest into the smile I give him. I need it to disarm him. I need him to forget that we’re not actually in the same place. That I’m in any danger. I pull him close.

  The second my lips touch his, something I would call a sensation comes over me, if we were somewhere that the limits of senses had a bearing. But we aren’t, and the touch of our tongues is so much more. I feel the very particles that make up my spiritual body vibrate. I feel waves of energy from Hoster’s form zap out between my atoms. Suddenly, I don’t need to channel anything. Neither of us remembers the world outside this memory. Every ounce of passion I’ve kept sealed away behind a lock of restraint comes pouring through the cracks. It’s going to burst.

  “I always wondered…” I say to Hoster, between wet slides of our tongues, “Why…you bothered to put together clothes for yourself here.”

  “Human decency?” Hoster laughs, even as his eyes glide up and down the curves of my body. “Want to see a trick?”

  “You’re talking to the master,” I tease him.

  “We’ll see,” Hoster chuckles. He closes his eyes and the radiance that encircles his Astral body brightens. His shirt, pants and everything beneath dissolve into a sapphire mist that swirls away into the sky. All that’s left is his naked, slender frame. His penis rises with the throb of his quickening heartbeat. I don’t wait for it before I slide my fingers around it. My hand glides down to flatten on Hoster’s bony pelvis, then back up. He can’t cage the groans.

  “You call that a trick?” I ask. I lean close to kiss his neck while I massage him. “I’ll beat you, one-handed.” I raise my free hand while the other does its work. I gauge my success on the contortion of Hoster’s face. Pure pleasure. And that’s before I snap my fingers. My clothes slide away from me on either side, like they were made of ribbons just waiting to be torn. They tie themselves in a knot behind me while my freed breasts bob down into place. Hoster’s hands can’t climb me fast enough.

  I slide my hands up his shaft to press him into the middle of my thighs. His arms wrap around my waist. Each hand slides down over one of my butt cheeks - it’s a perfect fit. Hoster peppers me with kisses moving down. Lips, neck, collar, the curve of my breasts. Then he flicks my nipple up into his mouth with his tongue. I just about explode. I cradle his head in my arms to brace for the waves of pleasure shaking my core while he plays with me. I tighten on him as he thrusts up and in with his hips. His tip grazes by my lips and presses up, into my potent node of ecstasy. With every slide over my clit, I fight the temptation to just put it in.

  Then I remember - we’re not in the physical world. There’s no need for worries like protection.

  “How…strong are you?” I ask him between gasps of precious air. “I mean, here. In this place.”

  “I can hold you,” Hoster reads my thoughts. I throw my arms around his neck. I jump up to lock my thighs over his hips. Hoster’s body hardly tenses to keep me up. He has been practicing. I let my head down on his shoulder while he guides his penis up to the target. My lips peel apart in a shameless moan when he pushes up inside me. Just when I thought he couldn’t get harder, I feel Hoster pulse up, further, just enough to make me whimper.

  Then he lifts me. I arch my hips back. He pulls me down and I pull him in. Together, we unify our spiritual bodies as tight as we can. The word pleasure doesn’t describe the force that jostles my very atoms. Then up I go again. My head cocks down to kiss him while Hoster traps me in the literal throws of love. My breasts flop down against his chest. The bridge of my nose comes down to his when the feeling is too much to operate both my lips and hips. I focus on the lower, and pull him into me as deep as I can take. It’s the perfect angle for him to rub my clit as he pushes in.

  “I’m not sure…what will happen…when I…” Hoster tries to tell me. The wrinkle of his brow tells me just how soon that will be.

  “I think we’re about to find out,” I smile at him. I lock my feet behind him. I lean back to quicken the pound of my pelvis against him. Hoster puts his head down. I kiss the top of it. Then I feel it come up inside me with the thrum of his muscle.

  It’s not hot, or even warm, like I always pictured. No, when Hoster finishes, it’s like the rise of a frigid wind throughout my whole frame. It fills not just my vagina, but my whole body. It gives me a shiver that dances up to the tip of my head, and back down to where it began. When it does, I let loose one last, thunderous oh! It triggers an earthquake of euphoria deep inside me, where Hoster is still letting loose. Our orgasms send streaks of lightning across every inch of my dreamscape sky. For a second, we’re locked together under a perfect white horizon.

  Then a hole tears in it. I look up with hardly enough time to realize what has happened, before I rocket straight through the tear in the sky. I fling from my ruptured memory trap back to reality.

  I sit straight up in the back of our stolen Camry. I glance around the car. Thank God. Darius isn’t back yet. I reach down to feel the fabric between my legs. Now I really can’t reconcile what’s real. My underwear is the slightest bit damp. My clitoris is still throbbing. I can still feel the last little shivers Hoster shot into me working their way out.

  I let my head thump back against the glass and pass out, too tired for dreams.

  The Grotto

  Emery,

  The Grotto, Six Rivers National Park

  “Hey, what the hell’s gotten into you? This is our exit!” Darius snapped me from yet another daydream. The truth is, I didn’t have the slightest idea what had gotten into me. Besides Hoster. But that was the absolute last thing I wanted to explain to Darius. I hardly understood it myself. Here I am, on a mission to save Helena, when an ally - a piece on my board - offers to help, and what do I do? I have wild, spiritual sex with him
to keep him from asking too many questions? Well, that was only part of it. But, when I pictured Hoster joining us on our little joyride…all I could picture was him, permanently separated from his body. I have to finish this before I fall asleep again. I might not be able to satiate his urge to help with sex again. “Emery!” Darius shouted. I cut the wheel and screeched us just onto the exit ramp.

  “Sorry,” I muttered.

  “You’re going to be sorry if you crash this thing,” Darius told me. “It’s hardly holding up as it is, and I’m not the one who’s going six feet under if it falls apart.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I mumbled, taking the turn tight.

  Highways turned to forests. The forest thickened by the mile. Before I knew it, I was seeing signs for the national forest. Helena. That’s all I could afford to focus on right now. I have to find her. I have to get her out of here. The hundreds of creeks that branch from the Six Rivers the forest is named for trickled under and beside us, as I turned the car down smaller and less traveled sidestreets. Then finally we came to a play path I wasn’t remotely confident our Camry could handle. That’s exactly where I turned it. There, I pulled over to the side.

  “What, afraid the thing’s actually gonna fall apart?” Darius laughs.

  “No...well yes, but we’re here,” I tell him. We click our car doors closed behind us as quietly as we can. We leave the clay behind in favor for the dried-out topsoil of the densely packed evergreens. “You ready?” I murmur to Darius as we creep through the translucent waver of an illusory curtain. We’re in the training ground around the Grotto.

  “Shit, could you whisper?” Darius grunts back. Good. He’s already started. I can hardly imagine how intensely he’s hearing everything around us now. Especially with the wind rustling all the branches.

  “Sorry,” I hardly breathe, quieter than I imagine anything can hear. But Darius nods to let me know he can.

  I float over close behind him. If anyone’s talking in the nearest half-mile, maybe more, Darius will hear it. I watch for a twitch, a nudge, anything. But Darius only wanders on in remarkably focused silence. He leads us out to the pebbly banks of a perfectly azure river. The current of it is dispersed so evenly across the banks, there isn’t a single rapid. It flows along silently, lazily. Darius leads us down its length to a fork. We either have to hug the left edge of it, or find a crossing. There is, in fact a third option, I see, when Darius plunks his shoe in the water.

  “Right in the middle,” he tells me.

  “You kidding?” I murmur back. He winces, even at so hushed a volume.

  “Yes, Emery. This is the perfect opportunity for me to try out improv comedy!” Darius bites back, “No, I’m not kidding! I hear a shift change happening straight ahead. Aim for the rocks close to the surface. The current is swifter than it looks.” I see the truth in this when Darius takes his second step out into the crystalline water. It froths violently around his shins.

  I do my best only to plant my heels on the current-glossed rock eggs just below the surface. But the water is like the essence of cold itself. It jostles me down to the bone. I take stiff paces in Darius’ wake, which slip across the slick stones beneath me. We’re about halfway across when I slip. That’s it, part of me thinks. The second my shoulders hit the current, I’ll seize up and be dragged under. Darius’ hand catches me just before I have a chance to find out. Mist sprays up from the water on the back of my neck until he gets purchase to heave me up on his shoulders.

  “Hold on to me, dammit,” Darius grunts as I struggle.

  I clamor up his back to wrap my arms around his neck. They drape down over his frigid chest. Everything about the touch of Darius’ body contradicts what I picture to be alive. I can’t feel his chest inflating as he breathes. I can’t feel his pulse pumping as he drags me on through the river. I don’t feel so much as an ounce of life within him, yet he’s the only thing separating me from an icy death. He helps me plant my feet when we reach the other side of the river. He surprises me by holding my shoulders until my knees stop shaking. He reads my body language perfectly, balancing me exactly where I need it.

  “Th-th-thanks,” I shiver, once I can stand. I try to pretend I don’t see him glancing at my rigid nipples through my soaked shirt as a sign of gratitude. Darius doesn’t stare too long anyway.

  “Ye-yeah,” he catches himself and spins back around. “They’re in this thicket up here, between the two branches of the river.” Darius puts a hand on my shoulder and pulls me into the shadows when I almost stumble right out into the clearing around the house.

  It’s made from momentous, stacked beige stone blocks. The single window inside is tinted dark and it doesn’t look like it opens. A chimney lets out a steady breath of smoke from the roof. They must be cooking something because there’s no need for a fire this time of year. A Warlock and a Witch in long, gold-trimmed robes linger outside the wide-planked door. Two more Witches circle the perimeter of the clearing.

  “Looks like you brought a Vampire when you should have brought a small army,” Darius murmurs.

  “How can you even tell this is the place?” I whisper back. “There are probably hundreds of these little shacks in Six Rivers?”

  “I listened for keywords, Emery. You said she’s a Bartos Witch, right?” Darius asks. I give him a nod. “I see the Bartos crest through the window there,” he squints at the side of the stony cabin to demonstrate. “And I hear a man and woman talking inside. Something about true natures.”

  “Shit…” I murmur. Someone’s in there with her. Of all the details of our little escapade, for some reason it’s this one that makes it all real. What I’m risking. Walking into the stronghold of one of the Core Lines of Witches and Warlocks. Taking one of their own right from under them. Working with a known enemy of the Academy. Who is the girl who dragged me out on this trip, and what did she do with Emery Dalshak? I don’t have time to sit around and figure it out. “Can you zip in there and grab her?”

  “Past four Bartos spellbombs? Plus the one that’s inside… Even if I got in. Even if Helena helped me, I doubt we’d make it out,” Darius tells me, honestly. Yet defeat is absent from his voice. He’s already thinking about the same plan I am.

  “Unless you had the element of surprise,” I add.

  “If only there was a powerful Magician with no regard for her life or reputation to give me an edge,” Darius swoons at the thought of such a girl, a hand over his cold forehead. Fists tighten up at my sides.

  “Get ready. They won’t see you. They won’t hear you. But Helena will, and they’ll know something’s wrong when she starts acting up,” I tell him. “The second they smell something’s off, you get her out here. With the three of us, if we can take them by surprise…”

  “Hey,” Darius says. His brow curves up with an unfamiliar concern. It looks like a Halloween mask on his face. “You’re sure about this? I mean, they’ll trap me and torture me, sure, but they’d need a clearance code to actually kill a Vampire. You…might not be so lucky.”

  “I know,” I tell him, hands up for the trick.

  “And your precious reputation-”

  “I know. The only thing I give a flying fuck about right now, Darius, is getting you in there to get Helena out,” I make crystal clear for him. He bobs a frown at my irrefutable resolve. Death would be a better fate than living with Helena’s on my hands, knowing I did nothing.

  “Alright. Girl with nothing to lose. I get it,” Darius waves me off. He takes an apprehensive step back from me. He heaves a deep breath and lets it fall out. “Hit me, trickster.” I press the palms and fingers of my hands back together. I slide them apart, one up, one down. A watery fog spirals up from the ground, wrapping Darius in a distortion like a desert mirage. That’s how it appears to me, at least. To everyone else besides Helena and myself, he’ll be entirely see-through.

  “You’re ready,” I tell him.

  “Am I?” Darius grins. Then his body is replaced by a puff of air. It sweeps my hair
back as my eyes struggle to register the blur of his lightning-fast body. Darius streaks out across the clearing and straight through the front door. The magical guards on either side of it don’t even notice until the second-delayed wind behind Darius’ heels bucks the door back closed.

  My heart freezes. The Witch and Warlock turn inward, to follow him. Darius is gone for a total of four seconds, as I count them. It feels closer to ten years. The Warlock has a hand on the doorknob when the entryway kicks back open. The force of it flings the guard back off his feet. A haze of color shoots out from inside the cabin, only to be snared in the mist spray from the other guard’s hands. It freezes Darius’ feet to the ground instantly. Helena stumbles out of his grasp. Dammit, I curse in my head. I charge out from the brush, both hands up to deal with the perimeter patrollers, who now rush in from the edge.

  At least they’re facing away from me. They don’t catch so much of a glance at me before my fingers zip between several trick shapes. I configure them in triangles, Xs and circles to bend reality to my will. To shape my own reality, where Helena and Darius leave here with me.

  One of the Witch-guards sprints straight for what I’ve made her think is the cabin. In her rush of adrenaline, she has no idea of the trick I’ve laid over her eyes. She makes a break sideways, straight into the woods near the river. The other guard glances over after her, confused. Perfect. I envision Serge’s glassy bent-light weaponry and focus every brain cell on mimicking the technique. I condense the sunlight glaring down on the clearing into a glassy orb of malleable particles in my hand. While Darius blips between firebursts and sonic air waves from the two door-guards that have gotten back to their feet, I let my glassy trick fly for the branch of a low-hanging branch. It sticks. I call down a translucent whipcord and lasso it around the third guard’s ankle. In one nauseating second, she flips end over end and shoots up from the ground by her snared ankle. I leave her to flail and run for the cabin. For Darius and Helena. For the Witch and Warlock who remain in our way.