Time to get back to business and back to reality once more. The fairy tale romance had been ended for the time being and Kara was facing more pressing problems than she wanted to admit.
Because right after they finished making out for a couple of hours, her superiors transmitted new orders for the upcoming operation and it was due to begin in the early morning hours of the seventeenth of this month—slightly later than she would have liked.
Kara blew a kiss in her boyfriend’s general direction, even as she clutched the packet of government paperwork signifying her new mission in Old New York and waited until he drove off and was out of sight.
Then she walked back up the stairs and into the house and closed the door.
***
“Two breakfast burritos please,” Tillie quipped with genuine eagerness—after sitting down at the same booth table they occupied the night before at the restaurant.
This time, she was paying out of her own work credits which Tabitha Gorges gave her, so this time she would feel like she was part of the team for once and not some outsider begging for charity.
“Oatmeal for me,” Roz said, the bleary look on her face fading a bit with her second cup of black coffee.
“What? No bacon this morning?” Charlie teased lightly.
The other girl stared at her best friend in passing. “Bacon and I don’t agree with each other. I don’t know if it’s the fat, the cholesterol, or the fact that it came off a poor pig’s ass the hard way—I could never digest it well enough no matter what I washed it down with.”
Tillie laughed despite the girl’s seriousness about the problem, but wouldn’t press the issue as she ordered two sides of crispy bacon along with three glasses of orange juice.
Roz gave her a decidedly unhappy look. “Now you’re just being a bitch.” She complained lightly before taking a needed sip from her cup.
Tillie stuck her tongue out at her—even as the waiter collected their menu cards—along with their orders—and left the three of them together for the time being.
“So…any news from the front?” Tillie wanted to know.
Charlie shrugged. “I didn’t get any new mail in my drop box this morning as we left my place, so I’m assuming everything is still on schedule.”
“What about the evacuation?”
“Last I checked, some parts of the city are now deserted. Only Tower Avenue and 14th Street still shows a heavy concentration of magical kinsfolk living in the area. I don’t think they plan on leaving. It’s my belief that they will stand and fight.”
“Gutsy,” Roz quipped. “Doomed. But gutsy.”
“Then that’s where I will go first.” Till elected to the table at large.
Charlie wore a face of panic.
“You couldn’t cover an area that large! It’s fourteen square city blocks!”
The other girl smiled. “Who do you think you’re dealing with here?”
“Not a High Witch—that’s for sure.” Roz remarked knowingly.
“Hey elf girl: I am a High Witch in training. I’m still a powerful adept no matter how you slice it.”
“Isn’t adept another word for beginner at the Academy of Magic and Arts?”
Tillie glared daggers at the other girl—who just wore a triumphant look of her own; like the first time when she almost spirited away her future boyfriend from her.
The night she found out about his secret.
“For your information…adept is the second highest level a witch in training can obtain before she reaches the rank of master.” She retaliated thinly. “And that was not an easy rank to get. The teachers at the Academy had a very strict and impossibly hard training regimen which very few witches in training can get through without fucking things up. Most of the classes I was in still held beginner ranks—with a few student advisors thrown in for shits and giggles.”
“She’s right,” a new voice interrupted—forcing everyone to look up. “I should know: I helped her through some of the tough spots a few years ago.”
Tillie’s face broke apart in surprise and shock at seeing an old—but familiar—face after so long of being on Level Two.
“Rachel!” The girl squealed in excitement—jumping up from the table and hugging her old Academy instructor with glee.
“W-where…how did you get here?” She stammered out.
The older woman chuckled, hugging her former student with affection and appreciation.
“Your mother called in an old favor by way of a small missive sent my way. I was in the area of Old New York when she dropped by my place up in Attenborough the night before last. Said she had a mission to do and she needed Sarah’s help to do it.”
“What mission?” The girl wanted to know—before offering her a seat next to hers. Rachel slid in effortlessly before the same waiter appeared with their breakfast plates and new glasses of orange juice.
“Wasn’t allowed to say. Your mom’s orders. Of course, I could never say no to an accomplished High Witch or her endearing daughter.”
Tillie sighed—thinking she wasn’t going to get a straight answer out of her former instructor.
“I guess even my mom has her reasons. Blessed Be what they are.”
“Well considering you’re officially on your own and about to tackle your biggest challenge yet…? I’m no less amazed by the fact that you haven’t fallen to pieces yet under the strain of the individual sovereignship clause yet?”
Charlie raised his hand in that moment.
“I don’t think I’ve heard of that one,” he said with some confusion on his part.
“It’s part of the witch’s code,” Roz said before Tillie or Rachel could jump in with the information. “It’s a legally binding contract with any witch or sorcerer under the age of eighteen which states: ‘the sole party shall be recognized as an individual once guardianship has been absolved through parental or amicable means during a state of crisis or emergency’.”
Rachel looked at the other girl in open amazement. “How do you know about that? Either you must be a witch or a magical familiar yourself.”
“Quarter elf, actually.” Roz amended easily—before touching her ears. “My ears give it away.”
“Ah, so you’re not fully Elva in nature, I take it?”
“No. My family is mostly human with Elva traits residing in them. My grandparents were half elves themselves.”
“But that would make you half elf yourself—wouldn’t it?” Rachel questioned curiously.
“Not when you are the fifth child of three girls and two boys in the family—no. I got most of my father‘s recessive genes after I was born. So I only came into this world a quarter of an elf.”
The waiter finished giving them their plates and glasses and asked their new table guest of she wanted anything.
“I’ll have what Tillamook here is having—along with a steaming cup of hot coffee.” The woman pointed to her former student’s plates.
“Very good. I will return shortly with yourorder.” The waiter said without any further preamble and left with his serving cart and empty trays.
“I’ll add it to the bill.” Tillie said, before pointing to a credit voucher which sat at the far end of her table.
Rachel nodded suddenly. “That’s right! The Underground network has its own monetary system in place! I should have known about that before I ordered! I‘m so sorry.”
Tillie made a dismissive gesture of her own. “Don’t worry, breakfast is on me. Charlie here says it’s cheaper than dinner anyways.”
“Charlie?” the woman echoed in confusion before she was met with the eyes of a handsome young man in passing.
“That would be me,” he said. Then held out his hand. “Charlie is my name. Being a lookout is my game.”
Rachel took his hand and shook it. “Rachel D’Amboise. Former magic instructor for the Academy of Magic and Arts.”
“Roz.” The other girl nodded towards her in passing. “Or Rosalyn Parker. I currently am in between job a
ssignments at the moment. I was part of reclamation squad in the East Tunnel. But work dried up over the holidays. I’m hoping for something to open here at Level One.”
“That’s too bad,” the other woman offered in quiet sympathy. “I hope something come’s available for you.”
“Me too.” She said with blind hope. “But until then, I’ve been offered a temporary job in the meantime over at the women’s mission under the watchful eye of Teena Clarkson.”
“Hey! I know her!” Tillie chirped in recognition, before grabbing the other girl‘s hand. “You’ll do just fine. And who knows? You might like it.”
“Landscaping and toilet duty was never my calling.” Roz said with a sigh of personal defeat. “But if I want to keep the work credits coming in and my skinny butt fed…?”
“I’ll help out too.” Charlie offered up in total solidarity.
“I’m a big girl. I can hold my own.” Roz fired back.
“Without your monthly bags of gummy treats? I highly doubt it. You’ll be banging down my door looking for my hidden stash before too long.”
Tillie laughed at the image of her would be boyfriend sitting on his bed and eating himself sick of every gummy treat imaginable.
“Which kind?”
“The local Circle K kind of gummy worms and the Haribo Star Mix. Plus the Twin Snakes.”
“I’ve had those. They are actually pretty good. Sweet and sour, but good.”
“Stop it,” Roz begged then. “Now you’re just making me want gummy worms instead of this real breakfast in front of me.”
“You mean besides what is in that bowl of yours ?” Tillie pointed out mischievously.
“Listen witch girl…oatmeal happens to be a favorite of mine, so unless you want me to force feed you that breakfast burrito the hard way—?”
Rachel laughed lightly in response. “Have you always been this antagonistic, Tillie? I can remember a time when you were as quiet as a mouse with only a small circle of friends to be had.”
Tillie blushed. “Times have, ah, changed.”
Roz stared at Rachel and then back at Tillie. “Her? Quiet? Gods no…she’s never been such since we first met two nights ago. The girl has a mouth on her that just won’t quit—especially now that she’s in league with my best friend here.”
“In league?” Rachel questioned in slight confusion.
“I think she means that we are an item now.” Tillie said with a quiet rush of embarrassment.
Rachel’s jaw dropped then. “You? A boyfriend? My, my, my…times really have changed since you were at the Academy. You couldn’t keep you eyes off either Chad Winston or Trevor Gottfried.”
“Trevor is the guy we know,” Charlie said in passing. “But Chad? That’s news.”
Rachel laughed. “I’m not surprised. Both Trevor and Chad had a running bet on who would be Tillamook’s boyfriend first—since the competition back in those days were pretty fierce as pairings went.”
“You mean…as in girlfriends or boyfriends?” Roz asked with full blown curiosity on her part.
“Sometimes,” the other woman admitted freely. “But mostly it was a school thing for students to be paired off as quickly as possible in their first and second years as students, then a third year as a trainee, and a fourth as a possible adept. Tillamook here reached that level in just two years time—from the age of twelve to fourteen.”
“Shit…” Roz breathed in stark amazement. “What the fuck—I mean pardon my French—but Jesuit’s Disciple! How did she manage that trick?”
“She came in already a special case,” the other woman reminisced easily enough. “We ran her through the usual tests and challenges to see where she scored and she easily beat most of the senior students by a full twenty percentile points. And that was astonishing since most first year students scored in the top three percentile range.”
“Forget witch girl. How about super girl instead?” Roz laughed in awe.
“We think because of her recent experience with Greta Freeman, she might have gotten quite a boost from the fragment of the Dragon’s Tear.” Rachel said then. “That much was certain when we did further examinations and means testing.”
“She’s now the full owner of the Dragon’s Tear.” Charlie pointed out delicately.
Rachel choked and stared at her former student with shock and fear in her face.
“You…found…the Dragon’s Tear?” She bit out harshly. “How did that happen?”
Tillie shrugged and then sighed. “Long story, Instructor. Long story.”
“Tell me you’re not in full control of its power…?” she continued to press worriedly.
Tillie shrugged again. “Afraid so. I was about to unload on both Captain Kara Plummer and Ashley Dietrich a couple nights ago with it, but instead, I used Bruno.”
Rachel’s face went through a series of emotional transformations, before she settled on blatant concern and a lilt of understanding.
“The Tear was never meant to be handled by a witch of any caliber—let alone a High Witch.”
“Sorcerer?”
“No.” The woman cut off easily. “Not a Sorcerer either. In fact, it was supposed to be the Guardian Stone of any group of magical kinsfolk that needed its divine protection or services.”
“That’s what Shay was telling me when she first revealed that she had it in her possession. But she didn’t know it was the actual stone either.” Tillie was saying.
“How did she get a hold of it?”
“It was given to her upon her grandmother’s death. Hidden in a compartment within a keepsake box.”
Rachel pondered over that one for a bit—before her meal order arrived on a serving cart and the waiter came forward with her two plates. The breakfast burritos were enormous—as two alone would be enough to fill one plate with its elegant and enticing aroma and a good helping of old fashioned country gravy.
The pile of bacon was a virtual godsend in itself—a fact that didn’t escape Tillie Gunderson’s notice or her former teacher and instructor.
Table conversation paused for a couple of minutes at least while Rachel dug into one of the breakfast burritos—then a couple slices of crisp bacon—before polishing off her first mouthful with a healthy dose of orange juice from her cup.
While that was going on, Tillie had the waiter fill out the voucher while making the necessary corrections and then tore off the restaurant’s copy while giving the small ledger back to her.
“You’re paid up in full,” he said. “Thank you for your patronage.”
“No problem. It’s been more than worth it.” The teen girl gushed diplomatically. “Thank you, Terry, for spoiling us for the past day.”
The waiter smiled. “It was my pleasure. See you kids around.” Then he left—as Rachel resumed her earlier discussion with the table at large.
“Usually such a find is turned over to the nearest Witch’s Guild or the High Sorcerer themselves.”
“There’s more than one?” Roz queried respectfully.
“Oh, yes. Each guild has their own High Sorcerer.” The woman told her. “A byproduct of the past two hundred years since the earliest inceptions of the Guilds in what would later become the state of Oklahoma in the 1900s.”
“Wasn’t that the last state to join the old Union back in those days—when there was a federal government in play?”
Rachel nodded. “Very much so. But anyways, with the discovery of one of the legendary power stones belonging to the First Beings, a search will most likely be undertaken for all the other five still missing.”
“But by whom? With the Witch’s Guilds shut down, destroyed, or sealed off by orders of the Regency Council and the armies of the Third Watch—?” Tillie interjected. Then she added another question as an afterthought: “What about the Academy of Magic and Arts?”
“It’s an old institution which heralded back to the Middle Ages. It can’t be touched or destroyed by the forces of mankind—no matter what technological level they m
ay be at.”
“So there’s…let’s see…one for each major continent on the Earth?”
“Yes. Seven total. Plus one in the coldest reaches of Antarctica.” Rachel revealed to the table at large. “And together they form an aggregated ring shape that mirrors the circumference of the planet itself—with spokes going out to each one.”
“Where’s the central nexus?” Roz asked—breaking into the conversation at hand.
“The Panamanian Isthmus.”
“Why not in Topeka, Kansas?”
“It’s more about the natural balance of the planet in terms of a concentrated alignment. All the power focuses there and is “spread out” evenly among the other academies.”
“So the farther out an academy is…?” Charlie hazarded to guess.
“—the lessening of the power quotient in itself. So right now, that would be in the East and Greater India. Africa and the Commonwealth of Nations in Europe would be the fourth and third strongest.”
“North America?”
“Number Two.”
“Which would be the strongest among the seven—excuse me eight—academies?”
“The Peruvian Nation of Lesser Bolivia.”
“What about the Panamanian one?”
“It’s just a focal point—a drive engine for all magical things.”
“So it’s not really an academy then?”
“Oh, no. It’s just an empty structure built around a really big hexahedron crystal driven into the Earth itself.”
“Hmm…” Roz murmured over a mouthful of oatmeal—while staring at the last strip of untouched bacon on Tillie’s second plate. “Blessed Be…but I am going to so regret this.”—before stealing the strip from her plate.
“—hey! That was mine elf girl! Get your own!” Tillie exploded with righteous fury.
But the other girl had already gobbled up the strip in three quick bites.
Charlie fell silent, as did Tillie and even Rachel was watching each with a measure of confusion before asking the obvious question.
“Um…what’s to supposed to happen now?” She ventured slowly.
Nobody said anything for the next few moments—except to look at Roz herself.
The girl had swallowed the bacon, but a minute later, her face started turning colors—going from pale white, to an earlier shade of green, and then red—
Generation Witch Year One Page 40
