Magic Trials

by Meg Xuemei X

  The fucker changed the rules just like that.

  Cameron and Marie traded a subtle look. They weren’t in the loop either.

  “Let’s start with learning your strengths and weaknesses,” Paxton continued, his hard gaze falling on me.

  What had I done now? He just couldn’t take his gaze off me, could he? But I restrained myself from pulling my lips back to a half-sneer. So I half-turned to him and half-listened. Marie had warned me not to be a fool hitting a rock with an egg, but I could be a hard-boiled egg.

  “I’m going to pair you up and get you started,” Paxton continued. “Let’s see what kind of material you’re made of.”

  A human material? I mouthed.

  So the Demigod of Sea wanted to get us fighting right away. He was even more bloodthirsty than his Demigod of War cousin.

  That was fine with me so long as he didn’t pair me up with either Yelena or Nat. I didn’t want to hurt them.

  So when Paxton sent Nat to fight George, the other outsider, I beamed. But when he called Yelena and Demetra, I stepped forward.

  “I volunteer to have a bout with One-eighth in Yelena’s place,” I said.

  “One-eighth?” Paxton asked, narrowing his eyes, and Demetra shot daggers at me, face reddening in anger.

  “Oh, sorry,” I said. “I meant Demetra.”

  Cameron kept a straight face. Marie coughed over a chuckle, then covered her mouth and shot me a warning glance. The other students stared at me in shock, but one of them chortled shortly.

  “Did you know we have a rule of no name-calling in Half-Blood Academy, Marigold?” Paxton asked.

  “Which clause?” I snickered since I bet he’d made that up just now.

  “Quote it, Cameron,” Paxton said.

  “Half-Blood Academy Dominion Soldiers’ Code of Conduct number 1175 says—” Cameron started, but Paxton waved him off.

  Damn! There were over a thousand codes of conduct? I blinked in shock and dismay. How was I going to navigate them all?

  “For your violation of Half-Blood Academy Dominion Soldiers’ Code of Conduct number 1175, you’ll receive another punishment,” Paxton said. “You can run twenty laps during lunch since you won’t be eating today.”

  So he not only wanted to starve me but also planned for me to pass out running twenty laps on an empty stomach.

  “Give me a break,” I said, planting my feet apart. “You called me a name, too.”

  The class gasped at my audacity. Yelena and Nat looked really worried now. Marie shook her head at me.

  “What did I call you, Marigold?” Paxton asked in mocking curiosity.

  I wouldn’t take the bait. He knew I hated it when he called me Princesa. I wasn’t going to say it aloud and have the whole school calling me that.

  “You know exactly what you called me,” I said. “It came out of your mouth.”

  “Thirty laps now,” Paxton said. “And you won’t fight Demetra. I’ll give you Jack.”

  I eyed the biggest guy in the class. He was like a year older than me. Judging from his size and muscles, I’d bet all my money that he ate, slept, and shit in the training room.

  That jackal grinned at me malevolently.

  He’d wanted to beat me up for a while, and a bigger villain had just granted his wish.

  I pulled my lips back and flashed him a vicious grin as well.

  “What weapons can we use?” I asked.

  I was a weapon girl. Giving me a bow, a sword, a spear, anything, and I was golden. I’d found one that would give me the upper hand while I’d talked to Marie by the wall of weaponry.

  “You won’t fight with a weapon,” Paxton said firmly. “The match will be hand-to-hand combat.”

  My heart dropped to my stomach.

  I’d never trained in fist fighting or wrestling. I didn’t like strangers touching me in any way, including in a street fight. Paxton must have known that I was good with weapons, so he’d stripped me of my advantage.

  “If we have weapons, why would we want to use meaty fists?” I protested. “We aren’t going to win against demons by throwing a few meek punches here and there. It’s better to behead the demon fuckers with sharp blades. So I say Jackie and I go for a weapon match, unless he’s too chicken to lift a blade.”

  The room hushed to complete silence.

  What? They didn’t like me talking like a truck driver?

  “Now you’re the instructor?” Paxton snarled. “One more word and you’ll be running forty laps.”

  The clique sniggered, and Demetra giggled as she sent the Demigod of Sea a sultry, adoring gaze. But he wasn’t looking at her. He was too busy glaring at me.

  The fighting ring formed quickly.

  Nat went against George first. They were nearly the same height and build. Both good-natured guys threw a few punches at each other and delivered a variety of kicks.

  No one got hurt, and then the fight was over.

  Paxton waved them aside, calling it a tie.

  I bit my lip, watching everyone’s moves as I calculated potential counterattacks against Jack. He was double my size, so I had to avoid any direct hits. I couldn’t allow him to pin me down either.

  Once his dead weight was on me, I’d be done with.

  Yelena charged Demetra as soon as they were both in the ring. After a few punches, they ended up grabbing each other’s hair. Demetra got the upper hand. She gave Yelena a black eye as she dragged my friend to the ground by her ponytail, shrieking in joy like a harpy the whole way.

  Unable to watch quietly, I threw my friend an instruction. “Roll to your left and kick the nasty she-beast’s fucking teeth.”

  But Yelena was too obsessed with making her foe bald to listen to advice. Cameron had to break them up after both girls kept tearing strands of hair from each other’s scalps.

  And then it was my turn. I spared a remorseful glance at a wicked dagger hanging vertically on the wall.

  That asshole Paxton wouldn’t cave. He wanted to see me fall more than anything. He didn’t allow me to have my boots on either, which I’d thought about using as a weapon at some point. The heels were hard, and with good aim, I could thrust them into Jack’s eyes to get him off my back if he ever got me in a bind.

  I also stripped off the socks of different colors. I’d gotten plenty of snickers and giggles behind my back and to my face all morning.

  Nat and Yelena glared at Jack because they dared not glare at the Demigod of Sea for the unfairness of the match. They were brave and loyal enough to stay friends with me and show me support. Others would have ditched me at the first sign of the demigod’s displeasure toward me.

  Hadn’t Marie warned me not to talk to her?

  Everyone was afraid of Paxton, even the Dominion lieutenant.

  Jack swaggered to the ring first, as if he owned every inch of it, his vulture-like eyes dwelling on me. The look said he was debating where to land the first strike and break my bones.

  “There’ll be no rules in the fight,” Paxton said. “It ends when someone yields.”

  The demigod hadn’t said a thing about yielding when the other pairs went against each other. And Cameron always stepped in before the fight went overboard.

  But now Paxton was warning the instructors to stand by and giving his pawn a license to kill me. There’d be no consequences if Jack beat me to death.

  Cameron’s face remained stony, but a dark worry flitted through Marie’s eyes.

  They knew Paxton was using the fight to set me as an example and to crush my spirit and break my will.

  All eyes fixed on me. Every first-year had also realized that the Demigod of Sea had marked me.

  Jack’s malicious, superior grin grew wider as he got the message, proud as a peacock that he’d become the demigod’s executioner.

  I bet Paxton knew all about Jack’s capabilities. The Academy had everyone’s file.

  Demetra sent Paxton another worshipping gaze and clasped her hands. “Take her down mercilessly, Jack. Giv
e her the Hell she deserves. That harpy doesn’t belong in the Academy.”

  While Jack was the demigod’s weapon, Demetra was his most vehement cheerleader. What a diabolical lot.

  And why weren’t the instructors quoting school codes now that she was calling me names?

  As soon as I stepped into the ring, my fear left and rage rose as I met the sinister promise in Jack’s eyes. He looked at me as if I wasn’t a person but his victim. He’d beat me within an inch of my life before killing me to please and impress the demigod.

  “Hey you, douchebag,” I called, eyeing Jack like he was born from a rattlesnake.

  He probably was, though he didn’t hiss half as loud or venomously as Paxton.

  “You know you’re just a pathetic pawn in some asshole’s petty personal agenda to bring me down, right?” I asked. “And I have bad news for you. I won’t go down easily.”

  I wanted them to know I was well aware of what they wanted to do to me and I wasn’t afraid. I’d dealt with plenty of killers in my hunter years back in Crack.

  Paxton’s violet eyes turned dark purple, anger and the threat of punishment brewing in them.

  The instructors and the students shifted their feet nervously. No one dared to openly challenge a demigod, and anyone calling one an asshole in public wouldn’t normally be allowed to breathe again.

  I dared. He was going to kill me anyway, so I might as well get mouthy to get back at him, even though it was but a small, sad revenge.

  I hated it that it was always assholes and mass murderers ruling the world. I hated it that it was always the little people and the innocent who suffered.

  How I wished there was something I could do to fix that harsh reality, but the idea of changing the world was ridiculously impossible. I might not even survive this stupid brawl.

  “Get on with it,” Paxton barked, his cold voice fuming.

  I stretched my neck and flexed my shoulders to rile him up, defying him at every turn while I still could. Jack, though, didn’t wait. He launched at me like a remorseless bull with the determination to hurt and maim me.

  I sidestepped at the last second, deploying my best asset—speed.

  I ducked a heavy-weighted swing from my opponent and lashed out with my foot toward the back of the punk’s knee.

  To my surprise, he didn’t even bother avoiding my kick. He threw his elbow toward my exposed throat just as my foot connected with his knee.

  He didn’t go down, not as I’d expected. He took the blow easily without even bending his knee.

  It dawned on me instantly.

  He must have been training for the role of Dominion soldier since he could walk. He’d known he was a descendant of the gods. Most people considered being a part of the gods’ army the greatest honor, even though Half-Blood Academy was not-so-secretly called Half-Death Academy by some dissidents.

  And a new reality sank in—I wasn’t faster than Jack.

  I’d gotten used to being faster than anyone else in my hunter years, but that advantage had ended just now.

  While the Ritual of Blood Runes hadn’t done anything for me, other than burned me brutally and marked me as an uncategorized freak, all the other initiates who had survived the ritual had gotten way more powerful.

  The powers granted to them because of their bloodline had all manifested.

  They’d become faster and stronger, a better version of themselves, as befitting a student of the Half-Blood Academy.

  That moment of distraction and bitter feelings cost me instantly when Jack drove his fist toward my head. I leapt back to dodge the jab, but I wasn’t quick enough. Though he missed my skull, his blow smashed onto my shoulder blade.

  I widened my eyes in astonishment as I heard the clear, sharp sound of my bone cracking. Pain jolted throughout me, threatening to paralyze me. But I couldn’t allow that, or I’d be done with before it even started.

  My opponent was stronger than I’d thought. He was no longer a mere human male. He’d upgraded. He was now formally a part of the killing machine, a strong descendant of the Olympian gods, while I remained the non-evolved.

  If his fist had smashed into my head, he’d have opened my skull.

  A flick of surprise also passed through his expression, twitching a muscle in his jaw. He hadn’t expected me to be fast enough to dodge his killing strike.

  The rumor on campus, probably started by Demetra and her minions, was that I was a dud because I wasn’t a true descendant.

  Jack probably thought that eliminating me was doing me a favor; he definitely thought it was what the Demigod of Sea wanted.

  Though my shoulder throbbed, I pushed through my shock and agony so I could spin out of the next series of jabs, punches, and dropkicks from my adversary. In the meantime, I blocked out the clique’s cheering for their champion.

  With a weapon, I might be able to show him what I was capable of. But the demigod had known that and pitted my weakness against my opponent’s strength. I hadn’t the slightest edge over Jack. Even his weaknesses seemed stronger than my strengths.

  We circled each other. He attacked and I parried, taking a few more hits on my sides and one on the jaw as I observed his moves, desperate to locate his Achilles' heel.

  I wasn’t familiar with boxing, which seemed to be Jack’s favorite sport. I bet he’d have been a pro boxer if he hadn’t been accepted into the Half-Blood Academy.

  He swung his thick arm toward my face while his other hand tried to ram into my middle, intending to punch out my breakfast.

  Unfortunately for him, I hadn’t had any, but I was wise and just fast enough to leap out of harm’s way.

  When he aimed his next punch toward my ear, hell-bent on damaging my eardrum, I ducked from under his arm and rammed my fist into his side, as hard as I could.

  He didn’t even flinch. He was built and trained for hits and impacts much heavier than my puny fist could deliver.

  I couldn’t do any damage to him without a blade.

  And I had no magic.

  After a few bouts, he’d cracked my shoulder blade and a rib or two, yet I still stood, still fought back as viciously as I could, despite how badly I was outmatched.

  It was getting hard to keep pushing through the agony my every muscle and bone felt from the brutal onslaught of my opponent. Luckily, instead of shutting down, my body still coordinated with my commands.

  Maybe I was just too stubborn.

  Jack marched toward me, and I staggered back.

  A defensive strategy no longer served me when I was facing a stronger and faster foe. I now met him blow for blow. Every time my knuckles whacked him, pain radiated to my arms and shoulders. I started to suspect his muscle really was hard as rock, or maybe he’d used his enhanced power, boosted by the runes, to harden his muscles.

  I wouldn’t know how it worked since I hadn’t gotten any fucking benefit from the ritual.

  I’d started bleeding everywhere and pain throbbed through my every fiber.

  Everyone watched Jack pound me like a lion on a housecat. The clique cheered every time their champion thumped a new punch on me.

  “Maul her face again!” Demetra shouted instructions. “Make her ugly.”

  Paxton didn’t make a sound, but I could picture the sadistic, satisfied smile plastered on his face at the pathetic, helpless sight of me.

  That was what he wanted.

  I must have looked really wretched, because both Nat and Yelena started calling out, despite their fear of the demigod.

  “Yield, Marigold!” Nat shouted.

  “Marigold, please yield,” Yelena pleaded. “Let’s fight another day.”

  There was no other day. I wouldn’t give the fuckers that satisfaction.

  They could make me yield over my dead body.

  Jack kicked me in a devil-style, faster than my swollen eye could catch. The hard heel of his foot rammed into my left ear.

  A new layer of pain blossomed in my head, and my ears felt like I’d been hit by a tra
in.

  For a few seconds, all I could hear was the unbearable ringing that pounded my ear, drowning out the cheers, begging, and curses from my classmates.

  Yet I still heard Paxton’s scolding, “You think this is the worst you’ll face, Marigold? You’ll face far worse. The demons will do more terrible things to you when they catch you if you’re as sloppy as this.”

  Oh, I’d rather to be caught by the demons than by the demigods, fucker! But I had no strength or time to tell him that before Jack lunged at me again.

  This time, I dodged faster than he’d expected me to be able to, as rage pumped through my veins.

  I swept his legs from under him. He fell to the ground with a thud, and I leapt on him, my balled fist colliding with his cheekbone.

  I heard a crack.

  His face was his weakest spot.

  I wasn’t useless after all. Accustomed to his combat style, I was getting better.

  But I was too wounded. I believed that I had internal bleeding as well.

  I straddled him, and jammed my fist into his eye socket. He caught my wrist, twisting it, and at the same time he pushed up with a stupid yell and threw me off.

  I ended up beneath him.

  I kicked out right away. And just like before, my kicks and punches didn’t have much effect on his person.

  His heavy fist docked on my face again and again, shredding my skin and breaking bones. Blood flowed hot and free from my torn skin.

  I was going to look really ugly if I survived this.

  “Beg, bitch,” he hissed in my ear. He straddled me with his knees digging into my chest, sadistic pleasure written all over his face. His hands gripped my wrists, bruising my skin, and he pinned them to my sides. “Beg and I’ll consider not breaking another weak bone of yours. I might even let you live. Admit you’re my bitch now, and I’ll go easy on you.”

  He’d broken my body, just as his master, the Demigod of Sea, wanted.

  I struggled to throw him off me, but his weight felt like a thousand pounds.

  “Want to be on top?” He leered at me.

  “Hi, Jackie,” I said.

  He blinked at his nickname.

  Taking advantage of his diversion, I butted my head into his nose, crushing it into a grotesque mess. Two trails of blood streamed down from his nostrils. As I’d discovered, his face was his only weakness.