Sentries of Camelot (Ruby Morgan Book 2)

by LJ Rivers

  Thinking about the photo story, my mind recalled the images of last night. I was far from happy with leaving the scene, but Paddock was right. If we had stayed, Jen and I, we would have had no way of explaining our presence there. I only hoped Paddock managed to clean up the mess, as he had so elegantly—and rather morbidly—put it. The thought of it made my skin crawl.

  As I passed through the campus gates, I almost turned and added a few more miles. My legs were fine and could easily manage. I loved to push myself on my runs, often adding a few interval sprints to get the extra cardio effect. Maybe I should do a couple of high-speed laps around the pond outside Craydon?

  I leaned forward and was about to speed into a sprint when someone shouted my name behind me.

  “Ruby!”

  I skidded to a stop, almost losing my footing on the cobblestone path.

  “Careful, child,” said Professor Kaine.

  I reminded myself of our naming agreement from last time we met. “Good morning, Gabriel.”

  “If it hadn’t been for you standing here, bright and awake, I’d say it was an old man syndrome. But yes, I need my morning walk. Clears my mind. And what an absolutely splendid morning it is.”

  “Can’t argue there. A bit nippy, perhaps, but I like that.”

  “Any plans, if I might ask?” The corner of his mouth twitched upward.

  “Not really,” I lied. I should do some work, but now I hoped he’d asked for a reason.

  “Still interested in training, then?”

  “Very,” I said.

  “Excellent. How about we go right now? Your workout will serve as a great warm-up.”

  On our way towards the old boiler room—my private magic gym—I told him about my vision of Oliver in the boot of the car.

  “Parts of it seemed so real, like I was actually there. You know how dreams can feel very real, too. If you fall in a dream, you wake up with a jolt as if you were falling in real life. It was like that, only even more real. But then again, other parts were not like that at all. Blurry, if you know what I mean?”

  “I do, and I’ve heard about this before. What you call visions, Ruby, has a different name in magic. Truesight. There aren’t many magical beings with this power, at least not a very strong version of it. Real, pure Truesighters are among the rarest of all.”

  “Well, I’m not pure. Maybe that’s why my visions—or are they called truesights, perhaps?”

  “Both works, I suppose, but yes, truesights is the most common term.”

  “Right, so, as I’m only half-blood, that’s why they are so blurry and fragmented, then?”

  We had come to the closed-off building, and I lifted the police tape to let Gabriel pass underneath.

  “I see bits and pieces clearly, and they are very clear. It’s like I’m actually part of the scene. Then other parts of it are blurry. It’s like watching unedited video clips. And some of them filmed through a veil.”

  The old doors creaked as Gabriel opened them, and the burnt smell crept into my nostrils. We climbed over ashen pieces of wood and debris from the explosion and soon found ourselves in the hallway leading to the boiler room.

  We entered the boiler room, and Gabriel nodded at the torches on the walls. Without a second thought, I lit them.

  “Impressive,” he said.

  I looked at my hands, quite impressed myself. “That was totally different from how it normally feels. I just—” I flicked my hand. “Like that.”

  “Your body is more in tune with your powers, Ruby. The exercise has got your heart rate and magical metabolism up and running. And to be honest with you, I wanted to see if I could catch you off guard. I think it’s beginning to become part of your muscle memory. What most people don’t think about, or perhaps even know, is that magic has a biological aspect to it. It’s literally in your blood.”

  I looked at him, mesmerised.

  “You see, it’s all in you. As a Fae, even if you’re only half—” He made a grimace as if he wanted to take it back. “It’s actually not fair to use the word only for half-breed Magicals. They—you—are, after all, the second most powerful magical beings in the world. Pure-bloods are exactly that, pure Magicals with no human interference in their bloodlines all the way back when.”

  Back to Avalon. Growing up, Mum told me countless stories about our roots. Up until recently, I regarded most of it as fairy tales. Lately, however, I was beginning to think that the stories of another world might have more than a little truth to them.

  Before I could say anything one way or the other about Avalon, Gabriel continued, “As soon as a Magical bred with a human or even a half-breed, the offspring could never be more than half magical. In fact, almost ninety-five per cent of all Magicals are less than one-fifth pure.”

  “And that relates to how powerful they are? We are, I mean.”

  “Magic is not an exact science, but as a rule of thumb, one could say that the purity level reflects the force of the individual’s magic powers, yes. My point is that the vast majority of Magicals don’t even know what they are. They never use their powers because they do not know they have them. The ones who do will usually only use a small fraction of their potential magic powers anyway.”

  “Because they can’t control them,” I said, starting to realise.

  “Exactly! There is a common misunderstanding that Albert Einstein once said that humans only use about ten per cent of their brains. Although he never actually said that, it is a good metaphor for Magicals and their powers.”

  “So a Mag—sorry—a Magical with ten per cent magical blood can still have strong powers?”

  “Stronger than they are aware of, yes. It has been commonly accepted in the science community that Magicals with less than five per cent magical blood—or to put it in haematological terms, those with less than fifty blue blood cells to each white—have no magical powers. Most of them live their lives thinking they are humans. This is positively false. I have personally witnessed a five-year-old boy levitate his pet dog. His mother screamed in horror at the sight. I had to calm her down, but all she kept repeating was that he’s only four per cent. Luckily, no one else witnessed the event, so maybe she was able to keep it hidden.”

  I was spellbound by his words. With a pure Fae and a human for parents, I had never thought of my magic as powerful, not compared to Mum’s. Still, the events of the past few months made it clear that what the professor said had at least an aura of truth to it. And it didn’t go unnoticed in my brain how a mother was frightened by the prospect of her child being revealed. The little boy would probably be of no interest to Harvesters with such low percentage blood, but a mother could never be too careful.

  “With proper training, anyone can tap into their magical reserves and harness their full potential,” Gabriel continued. “It all comes down to self-control.”

  If it was one thing I felt I lacked, looking back at how I’d used my powers since arriving in London, it was self-control.

  “Tell me, Ruby. Is it hard to stop your powers, say the fireballs, when you’re upset? Be it angry or sad, or even afraid.”

  “Absolutely,” I replied. “There has been more than one occasion where I’ve had to retract an already lit fireball.”

  He raised his cane and pointed at a small pebble on the floor, about twenty feet from where we were standing. “You see that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Pick it up and place it in my hand, would you?”

  I started walking towards it but halted when he swung his cane in front of me.

  “From here, Ruby.”

  “But I can’t. I don’t have any power like that. What’s it called? Telekinesis?”

  “That’s one solution. But seeing as you don’t have that, you’ll need to use some other powers, won’t you?”

  I tilted my head at him, squinting a little as I tried to think of a way to solve the problem.

  “Come on, child. This should be—” he began.

  Like a stubborn,
or rather provoked, child, I threw a force field down the corridor. It flew straight at the pebble, swooped it up like an eagle catching a fish on the surface of a lake, and returned towards us at high speed. Just as it was about to crash into Gabriel, I stopped it. It hovered in front of his face for a moment before I lowered it into his palm and retracted the force field, leaving the pebble in his hand.

  What a rush! Charlie’s words when she went flying over the water that night at Diane’s party, high on MagX, were exactly those. What a rush. A knot formed in my stomach as I realised. I understood why she wanted to lick that MagX pane. Magic was awesome.

  I looked at Gabriel, unable to contain my pride or my stupid grin.

  “Excellent,” he said.

  “You didn’t flinch,” I told him.

  “Why on earth would I flinch? Not in my wildest dreams did I expect you to hit me in the face with that thing.” He dropped the pebble to the floor. “You see how easy it can be?” he said. “Want to try more?”

  I was tired; the late-night marathon and this morning’s run had taken its toll, and using both fire and force fields had drained even more of my energy. But I couldn’t say no. Not now. This was far too much of an eye-opener.

  “I do.”

  “Very well. How about we try it with your truesight, then? Let’s see if we can tap into what you saw the other day. The sight with the boy in the boot of the car. What was his name?”

  “Oliver.” I closed my eyes and tried to clear my head of everything else. Easier said than done, though, with all that rummaged around up there.

  “That’s right, Oliver,” Kaine said. “Now come on, you can do this. It’s all about concentration. Don’t let any other thoughts clutter your inner movie theatre.”

  A tiny frame, like a polaroid, started to form in my head. Oliver’s face looked at me from the picture. He was scared. I tried to grab a hold of the image, forcing it to turn into a movie, keeping the theatre theme.

  “That’s it,” said Gabriel. “Go on, you’ll get it.”

  He meant well, but instead of his words encouraging me, they irritated me. Disturbed me. He was pushing too hard. I put my index fingers on my temples, pressing against my skin. The image started to move, and Oliver faded out of the frame.

  I opened my eyes, staring at the ground, then back up at Gabriel. I was gasping for air, my feet almost unable to keep me up.

  “I can’t do it.” I swallowed the taste of failure. “I’m exhausted.”

  “Quickly, Ruby,” Gabriel barked. “Grab the flames from the two torches furthest away.”

  “What?” The room was starting to wobble before my eyes. “I can’t. I’ve got no more energy left in—”

  “Do it! Now!”

  I fixed my eyes on the torches, feeling my blood heat up. But instead of creating fire in my palms, I watched as the torches started shaking. The iron rings that held them to the wall tore out of the old bricks and fell to the ground, the torches following suit. I held out my right arm, fingers stretched, and grabbed the flames from both torches before they hit the dusty floor.

  With the greatest feeling of control I had ever felt, I pulled the flames towards me and into my hand. As the last glare slipped under my skin, I lifted my gaze to Gabriel. His eyes were wide, reflecting the vanishing flame—they looked on fire themselves. And his smile. He looked like the grandfather any girl dreamed of. His white hair glimmered in the flicker of the remaining torches and—

  “Ruby?”

  I opened my eyes. What on earth had happened? Why was I lying on the floor?

  Gabriel held my head in his hands, a worried look on his face. “There you are, my dear.” He took to stroking my hair. “I’m afraid we went a bit too far. Are you all right?”

  “I—I think so. What happened?”

  “It seems your batteries went flat, so to speak. I do apologise for pushing you.”

  He helped me back on my feet, brushing the dust off the back of my windbreaker. My legs were spaghetti, but I managed to stay upright. It was as if I had just finished three marathons, back to back. I stared at the professor, his eyes gleaming.

  “Sir,” I said, forgetting our first name deal. “Are you crying?”

  “If I am, it’s because of you. That was the most beautiful display I have ever seen. You have immense powers, my dear Ruby. Immense.”

  I didn’t know what to say. His words rang true, though. And what I had just done proved it as well. This was far beyond what I had thought a Fae could do, let alone a half-blood like me.

  “Did you plan that?” I asked.

  “If not plan, per se, then at least I hoped it would work, yes,” he said. “It was exactly the same as with the force field.”

  “So, by pushing me like that—” I started, the cogs in my brain slowly connecting.

  Gabriel nodded eagerly as if he could see me reach the conclusion.

  “You wanted me to fail,” I continued, “to make me see that I was over-complicating things.”

  “So?” He dragged the word and rolled his hands to help me finish my epiphany.

  “So, by trying too hard, I'm actually failing!”

  “Voilà.” He tipped his imaginary hat at me. “It’s like a golfer. Not that I’m particularly versed in that sport, but as I understand there is a certain way of mastering the golf swing. Amateurs tend to want to swing as hard as possible to smash the ball down the fairway. A skilled professional, however, knows that it all comes down to control. They grip the club lighter, they swing with more rhythm and control, using inertia and physics to accelerate the golf club’s head towards the ball.”

  Logan, my old editor—it felt like decades ago, although it was only a few months since I quit my internship—had taken the staff at Blacon Press to the local golf club. I never quite grasped the whole grip and swing concept, but the pro did say what Professor Kaine had just said, almost verbatim.

  “So yes, not over-complicating is a good way of putting it,” Gabriel continued. “And all I did now was use an old technique to help you simplify things. Back in the old days, before those German scientists proved magic to the world, people used to go and watch illusionists perform tricks at fairs and variety shows. They would pull rabbits out of large hats or make playing cards disappear. Some even sawed their female assistants in half.”

  I had read about those illusionists, as they were called. Their trade had gone downhill fast after magic proved to be a real part of the world. We learned about it in primary school. To me, it sounded strange not having magic around, as it had always been a part of my life. I guess it must have been quite a shock for humans back then.

  “People were amazed, of course. The tricks themselves were not that hard and, usually, it all came down to sleight of hand. The important part, however, was the misdirection. Any successful magician had to be able to misdirect his audience’s attention from what was really happening.”

  He pulled out a dark red handkerchief from his inside pocket. “Look at my hand.” He raised the empty hand above his head.

  I looked, of course.

  “Now, where is the handkerchief?” Gabriel asked.

  I turned my gaze down at the hand holding the piece of silk. It was empty.

  “A simple party trick of olden days,” said Gabriel. “Misdirection and sleight of hand.” With a flourishing move, he made the handkerchief appear as if out of thin air.

  “How did you do that?” I marvelled at him.

  “The old illusionists, or magicians as they were also called, had a motto. A magician never reveals his secrets, so in honour of the poor sods, neither will I.”

  The word ‘sod’ sounded strange coming from him. I had seen examples of sleight of hand on TV, however. Some show celebrating the nostalgic times and trades, where one performer had done exactly what Gabriel had talked about. His skills, however, were nowhere near Gabriel’s. I could swear that red piece of silk just appeared in his hand.

  As he pocketed the handkerchief with one hand, he s
napped his fingers with the other right in front of my face. “Quickly, what model was the car you saw Oliver in?”

  “A Vauxhall Vectra,” I replied instantly, seeing it clearly in my head. For a split second, I was back in Oliver’s eyes again, observing what he saw when he was forced out of the boot. The letters were shiny and clear, except for the crooked L at the end of ‘Vauxhall’. A gloved hand reached down and closed the lid.

  “That’s amazing,” I said when the image vanished again.

  “Well, yes and no. It’s in you, Ruby. You are in control. All you need to do is take it.”

  My phone rang, throwing me out of the trance-like sensation. Jen’s face filled the screen.

  “Hi, Jen,” I said, the words seeping like molasses from my mouth.

  “Where are you? The girl is on the news.”

  That snapped me out of it. “I’m not far from home,” I said. “Coming now.”

  I hung up and turned to Gabriel. “I’ve got to go, sorry.”

  “Not at all, child. This was a good session, don’t you think?”

  “Very.” I gave him a hug, surprising us both, it seemed. “Thank you!”

  He laughed. “Now that will keep an old man going for the rest of the day. Run along now, my dear.”

  Twelve

  I burst through the door, flung my Nikes off my feet and ran into the living room. I hadn’t expected Charlie to be up for hours yet, seeing as we had been up until two last night, telling her about the shooting. But there she was, next to Jen on the sofa, their eyes glued to the telly.

  “—example of how some of the Magicals misuse their powers. I’m not blaming all Magicals, of course, but this is an increasing problem and one we have to take very seriously.”