by Gregory Heal
Finally . . .
Charles’s long, scraggily hair and unkempt beard masked the majority of his face, but the open skin around his nose and cheeks turned a bright red due to the effort. Veins protruded from the side of his neck. His eyes rolled into his head as he began to convulse wildly, causing his chair to rock from side to side.
“Mintaka,” he said through clenched teeth.
Suddenly he slipped into unconsciousness, going limp in his restraints.
Convinced that Charles had fully regained his memory, Draconex took this opportunity to read his prisoner’s mind. He licked his lips in anticipation of finally unearthing the location of the Halostone, but tensed up when he felt a powerful warding spell block his dark magic. Exasperated, Draconex ground his sharp teeth together, biting his tongue and the inside of his cheeks as he worked his lower jaw in a circular motion, but he didn’t care. As the taste of his own warm, coppery blood filled his mouth, he berated himself for not expecting an impregnable warding spell from Charles as a last resort.
Again, just another obstacle in his path.
His scar turned the deepest red it had ever been.
The two guards stood at attention in the corner of the chamber and flinched when Draconex let out an ear-splitting yell that was accompanied by a breath of searing flames.
“He stays here until I say so. I’m not finished with him,” he said to the petrified guards.
Draconex pulled his bloodied butterfly knife out of Charles and kicked his chair over. It tipped on its side, sending Charles crashing to the ground in a heap as Draconex stormed out.
Shaking from frayed nerves after witnessing Draconex breathe fire, the guards waited for their commander to clear the chamber before they bolted out, leaving Charles to bleed out on the ground.
Malcolm’s eyes flicked open. He could sense a wall of furious aggravation headed his way.
“Draconex is coming,” he said aloud.
Madame Diaema tensed up in fear, then slid off the armrest and tugged at Malcolm’s arm. “All right, time’s up—off of his throne.”
Malcolm mulled it over. “I’m sort of curious to see how he’d react if he saw me sitting here.” He rubbed the dragon-headed armrests.
“I can tell you how he’d react,” she snapped at him. “He’d kill you because you’re on his throne, then me because I let you sit on his throne.”
Malcolm calmly stared at Diaema, watching her wiggle in fear. Finally, he stood up and resumed his place on his knees in front of the throne.
“Remember: not a word to Lord Draconex,” she reminded Malcolm before morphing into an albino bat and latching onto a branch, gently swaying upside down.
Malcolm smirked and closed his eyes, just as Draconex flung the door of his den wide open, nearly knocking several flaming torches from the walls. His ears picked up the quickened gait of his master; his nostrils detected a hint of burnt fabric.
Stomping past Malcolm, who was pretending to meditate, Draconex paused before the Throne of Dragons and sniffed the air. Malcolm opened his eyes just in time to see Diaema’s beady little eyes fill with terror. He would have felt the same, if it wasn’t for the boost of courage from his time sitting on the Throne of Dragons.
What—or who—got him so angry? thought Malcolm.
As if Draconex had heard his inner thoughts, he spun around and snapped his fingers at the boy. “Get off your ass and follow me. I’ve given you enough time to be ready for your next lesson.” He walked so close that his cape, fluttering out behind him, brushed over Malcolm’s face.
“You have no idea,” Malcolm whispered back, slowly getting up off of his knees and following the dark sorcerer with a wicked grin.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Jen was torn.
With every fiber of her being, she wanted nothing more than to never be around fire again, but she needed to continue her training so she could rescue her parents and have a fighting chance in this war against the Dark Watchers.
So, with that mentality, Jen found herself back in the Pentarena the next day with Victor—barefoot—staring dreadfully down at the simmering, hot coals, trying to keep herself from unraveling with grief. Knowing full well that she had to walk on those coals to get to her objective, the basin with the floating flame—much like the Eternal Flame—Jen rocked from side to side, anxiously cracking her knuckles.
Victor was by her side, patiently letting her announce when to start.
“I’m sorry,” Jen said softly.
Victor furrowed his brow, looking at her. “About what?”
“For disappointing you yesterday.”
Grimacing, he looked squarely at her. “Jen, look at me. I’m not disappointed in you. On the contrary—I’m quite proud.”
Now it was Jen’s turn to be confused. “What do you mean?”
“You came back here to face your fear.” He gestured to the fire section of the arena. “Not many people do that. You’re not giving up, and that makes me proud.”
Jen looked away, letting a few seconds pass before asking, “How do you do it? Not get scared?”
“Jenny . . . I am scared. Terrified. This situation we’re in . . . it’s a lot to ask of anyone. But what I’ve learned during my time fighting Dark Watchers is that my fears will never go away. The key is to not let those fears get the best of me, no matter how scared I am. What you’re doing here is the first step in making sure you use your fears to your advantage—that is how you are going to rescue your parents and help us find the Halostone before the Dark Watchers do.”
Jen found the strength to look Victor in the eye. “You really think I’m strong enough?”
“You are the strongest person I’ve ever met. I believe in you.”
Feeling the warmth of tears forming in her eyes, she hugged Victor and started crying.
“Let it out.” Victor wrapped his arms around her, making Jen feel protected and safe.
For an instant she forgot about the fire and focused on how much Victor cared about her. Every step of this journey, he had been by her side with endless support. It was time for her to show Victor that she was as capable as he thought she was.
Wiping away her tears, she said, “You have no idea how much that means to me.”
“I believe in you. Now it’s your turn to believe in yourself.” He winked.
Jen let go of Victor and felt compelled to walk closer to the coal-infested ground. “I can do this . . . I need to.” Saying it more to herself than Victor.
Filling her lungs with fresh air, she closed her eyes and reached deep into her nexus, this time taking her traumatic memory and nightmares with her. Surprisingly, she felt her fears ignite a chain reaction within her nexus, sending unprecedented energy to every nerve throughout her body.
What Jen felt next could only be classified as an out-of-body experience.
Jen saw herself standing at the edge of the lava-cracked ground, slightly glowing. She wondered if she could still control her body, so she tried to step onto the coals. Almost immediately, she saw her eyes flash open, glowing a brilliant light purple, and her left leg step onto several glowing coal pieces. The coals felt comfortably warm, as if she were stepping on sun-kissed stones near the shore of a lake.
She watched Victor start toward her but immediately stop when he saw Jen touch the sizzling ground. Jen was amazed that she could see all around her and still have control over her body.
She felt more confident than ever before, so with every step she took, she sent oxygen down upon the coals that were in her path. Before she knew it, she had made it onto the tile platform that held the central basin—she had made it all by herself.
As Jen felt her nexus draw her spirit back into her body, she saw Victor lightly pad toward her, kicking up embers as he flew across the coals.
“Whoa . . .” Jen exclaimed as her vision returned to her body’s perspective.
“That was simply amazing! I knew you had it in you,” Victor said, clapping.
�
�You were the one who helped me find my peace, Vic,” Jen said, smiling. “I feel . . . renewed.”
“You look it,” he said. “You ready for this next part?”
“One thing: do my eyes glow when I use my powers?”
Victor chuckled. “They do. Another sign that you are an omnimancer. You know the saying ‘Eyes are the windows to the soul’?”
Jen nodded.
“Well, they’re also the windows to the nexus.”
“Cool . . .” Jen flicked her hair behind her shoulders with a hand.
“A trait that I wish I had, believe me,” Victor added as he brought his hand into the basin, scooping up a portion of the fire. The remaining flames grew back to their original size, unfazed. “Now, like I said before, adept sorcerers can conjure fire out of thin air. But for our training, we will practice with some that has already been created.”
He held out the ball of flame in his cupped hands. Jen was amazed at how it floated an inch above Victor’s palms, making a bright yellow-orange bowl that extended upward into flickering fingers of flame.
“Fire sets itself apart from the other elements because of its unpredictable, volatile, and destructive nature. That is why it’s our final stop for today. Unlike the other elements, fire cannot be controlled, only contained.”
He kept his left hand underneath the flame and brought his right one above it, then lowered his hand, turning the bowl of fire into a cube, then a pyramid. With a quick flick of his hands, the fire disappeared, sending out a hot breeze.
He continued, “Like all matter, fire can be converted into many shapes and forms, like superheated air.”
Victor clasped his hands tightly together. Suddenly, Jen could see light trying to break through the spaces between his fingers. Then he slowly opened his hands to reveal a single flame that grew larger before her eyes.
“Magical,” she breathed.
“Sorcery is magic, but it is truly rooted in science and chemistry. You just have to know where to look.”
Victor held the flame out to Jen, who froze—for just a second. Steeling herself, she let her fears flow through her nexus and focused on the fire’s molecules. Once she felt confident that she had locked onto them, she quickly scooped it into her hands, willing the flame to levitate safely above her bare palms. Jen watched as the fire swayed to the rocking motion of her hands, as if she were putting a newborn baby to sleep.
“There you go,” Victor said encouragingly. “Now grow the flame by getting the oxygen, nitrogen, and carbon dioxide molecules to the ignition point of your flame.”
Jen slitted her eyes as she focused on sending her nexus’s power to the molecules that surrounded the flame she held. Almost immediately, the flame doubled in size, then quadrupled.
“Good,” Victor said calmly, careful to not disrupt Jen’s focus. “You remember how I converted my flame into superheated air?”
Jen nodded, still staring at her enlarging fireball.
“I used fission to split the molecules. I want you to do the same thing over the ice.” He pointed to the other end of the arena at the frozen pond.
Jen took her eyes off of the flames to glance at the frozen wave of water. “Okay . . . but I’m afraid if I move, the flames will go out.”
“That’s fine. You can float it over the center of the pond from here, but once you do, spread out the fire until it covers the area above the pond.”
Jen took a deep breath and willed the fire to be carried on a blanket of air molecules. Like a hot air balloon, it rose and glided silently away from her until it was squarely above the icy pond. Jen spread her hands apart, flattening the fire so it hovered a foot above the ice.
Satisfied with Jen’s placing, Victor said, “Good. Now use fission to split all the molecules in the fire. This’ll superheat the air, causing the ice to melt.”
Jen, still reaching out toward the fire, locked onto every molecule with her mind and, using her nexus, rapidly tore through each and every one. Almost immediately, the orange glow above the pond vanished, leaving behind a swath of blazing-hot air.
“Now contain it,” Victor said, “and fully encapsulate the ice.”
Jen blocked the hot air from escaping then lowered her arms, causing it to descend over and around the chilled pond. Steam became noticeable as the ice started to splinter and crack from the abrupt change in temperature, causing huge chunks to break off and slam onto the ground, where they then melted. Before long, the pond was completely shrouded in a dense blanket of steam which quickly pervaded the entire terramancy section. Feeling as though she was in a sauna, Jen waited several seconds before she saw that the pond had completely melted, the only noticeable difference being its lower water level.
“Well done! You couldn’t have done that better,” Victor said as he spun his staff off to the side.
Jen’s eyes focused once more and she said, “Thank you . . . but I couldn’t have done it without you help, per usual.”
Victor made his way off the coal bed and Jen followed. “You did all the heavy lifting—plus, you showed extreme control over all of the basic elements today.” He paused, then added, “But thank you.” He winked and leaned his shoulder into Jen’s.
Jen nudged him back as they set foot onto the green, grassy sod.
As they were putting their shoes back on, Victor said, “Well, you definitely deserve the rest of the day off. Would you like to see what Skarmor is up to?”
“Would I ever!” Jen said enthusiastically. She had so much she wanted to tell Skarmor as he took her on a nice, relaxing flight around Camelore. “I’ve missed him so much!”
“Oh, he misses you too,” Victor mentioned as they made their way out of the Pentarena. “The past couple of times I’ve visited him, he keeps checking behind me to see if you’re there.”
Jen placed her hands over her heart. “Aw, Skar . . .”
Outside of the griffin stable’s entrance, Jen was waving to her favorite griffin when she doubled over in immense pain, a migraine suddenly blossoming in her head. Victor reached out to steady her as Skarmor screeched in concern and landed by her side. Her ears rang with a crippling intensity and her skin felt numb to the touch.
“Jenny—Jen, what’s wrong?”
Jen barely heard Victor as another wave of nauseating pain shot through her. She sharply inhaled through gritted teeth, unable to put what she was feeling into words. Jen dropped to her knees as she pinched her eyelids shut and rubbed the sides of her temples, willing the massive migraine to go away. For a millisecond, an image flashed in her mind’s eye, one so strong that it felt as though it had burned itself into the insides of her eyelids. Focusing on the image, she was able to pick out Lord Draconex, who was shoving a sharp knife in her thigh—but, she realized, it wasn’t her thigh. She could feel a dull pain where the knife had struck, but when she opened her eyes to check, her leg was completely unscathed. Then, without warning, more images rushed through her mind, like flipping through a photo album at blinding speed. The images were moving at such a high velocity that it became impossible for Jen to distinguish between them, eventually fading into white light. As if a light bulb inside her mind had exploded, everything went dark. Jen cautiously opened her eyes to see Victor and Mira looking down at her, wearing worried expressions.
“Mira?” Jen was surprised to see her.
“What happened, Jen?” Mira repeated the question Victor had asked, and together, they helped Jen sit up.
Jen labored as she drew in a few quick breaths, feeling the pain slowly subside and her strength return. “I don’t know.” Her mouth had gone bone-dry. Victor noticed and gave her his water bottle. She took it with both hands and shakily put the nozzle to her lips. Relief washed over her as the lukewarm water splashed over her tongue and gums. She swallowed; water had never tasted so good before.
“Thank you,” she said, setting down the bottle and preparing to answer both Victor and Mira’s question. “I had another vision . . . I saw Draconex stab me in the thi
gh.” Jen put a hand on her left leg where the knife had protruded. “But it wasn’t my thigh . . . it was someone else’s.”
Victor pursed his lips and furrowed his brow. “Do you know whose it was?”
Jen shook her head. “No, but I sensed that it was a man’s, like I was looking through his eyes.”
Skarmor bent down and brushed his head on hers.
“Before anything else happens, we’d better get you inside,” Victor advised. “Mira, do you have her hammock ready?”
“I just finished it before coming to the stables,” Mira said.
“Good. Jen, can you make it back to the hut?”
Jen used Victor’s arms for balance as she stood up, but immediately grew lightheaded. Her legs buckled, and Victor steadied her before she fell down again.
“Skarmor,” he called. “Sedere.” On command, his trusty griffin sat down. Victor laid Jen on his back, interlocking her arms around his feathered neck. “Skarmor will take you to the hut. Just hang on. We’ll be right behind you,” Victor assured her.
“Thank you.” Jen closed her eyes and let Skarmor take her into the air.
By the time they arrived at the hut, Skarmor was already safely on the ground and Jen was sitting upright, waiting for them. “I’m feeling much better,” she said to them.
“You should still rest.” Victor took Jen’s hand as she slid off of Skarmor.
“Thanks, boy.” Jen patted Skarmor on his neck. He cooed in gratitude as he stretched his mighty wings.
Victor made Jen hold onto his arm as he took her inside the hut.
“I hope the hammock is to your liking,” Mira said as she held the door open for them. “If you need it firmer, I can always tighten the cords.”
Jen found two identical hammocks across from each other, hers with a purple throw folded on it. “This looks beautiful,” Jen said as she laid down, “and feels so comfy.”