The Mage Tales Prequels, Books 0-II: (An Urban Fantasy Thriller Collection)

by Ilana Waters

  But Liza wasn’t wrong. Specs had indeed looked gaunter than usual in the past few weeks, the shadows under his eyes growing deeper. Since the fae, like witches, rarely contracted illnesses, I could only surmise it was the result of constant tension. And although Rosemary was on the mend, she still wasn’t in any kind of shape to attend the game. Burgess and Stone said it would still take several more weeks for her to heal completely. The hallways all seemed duller without her, and not just the floors.

  Things hadn’t been brilliant between my friends and me since the day of her accident, either. We still hung out, and I sat with them at meals. But there was a strained quality to our conversations that hadn’t been there before. I tried a few more times to protest my innocence. I even told them how I searched through the scene of the accident, but found nothing. All I got were more uncomfortable glances exchanged between Miles and the rest. At one point, he even started to say, “Look, mate, we want to believe you. We really do—” but Pen cut him off with a look. Even now, as I saw her, Imogen, and Suyin in the stands, waving their colored flags, I wondered how much they really supported me. And how much longer I could bear them not doing so.

  Just as before, in the first play-off, some students were helping Greggers clear the field. Others filed into the stands with their families. I saw a young Indian couple with several small children. Miles mentioned his brothers and sisters might attend the game; that could be his family. Oliver’s aunt—easily identified because she looked like a female version of him—sat in the air section, demurely waving a yellow and white flag. Needless to say, Titus was absent.

  He probably wouldn’t have come even if the play-off was held after sundown, I thought. And I’m glad, I told myself. People here already thought I was a menace who even had it in for the janitor. No need to throw fuel on the fire by adding a vampire father to the mix. Standing just under the first row of bleachers, I rubbed my temples and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, I couldn’t see anything beyond a waterfall of yellow hair and white ribbons.

  “Ah!” I cried in surprise. “Colleen, what are you doing here?” I couldn’t help but smile as she catapulted over the railing, from which she’d been hanging upside down. “I thought you were sitting in the fire section.”

  “Can’t a lady come to wish her knight good luck before a joust?” she purred. “If I had a handkerchief, I’d be giving it to you as a favor. Along with some other very special favors . . .” She put her lips close to mine, only to pull them away again.

  “Well, this knight isn’t exactly going into battle alone. Will you be giving similar favors to the entire team?” I smirked.

  “I don’t know . . .” She placed one graceful fingertip on her chin and tilted her head while gazing at the other players. “Jae and a few others are awfully cute.” Just then, Jae and Rami caught my eye and quickly looked away, pretending to be enrapt in whatever Oliver was saying.

  “Hmmm.” She narrowed her big eyes at the air team. “They don’t seem to like me very much. Oh, well.” She turned to me again, and I caught the scent of gardenias on the breeze. “More for you, then.”

  I set my jaw as I frowned at my teammates. “Trust me, it’s not you. It’s me. They still think I had something to do with what happened to Rosemary. Like most everyone else around here.” I glanced at the bleachers.

  Colleen sighed. “You shouldn’t care about them so much. You can’t go living your life according to what other people think of you. Look.” She put her hands on my shoulders. “I’m willing to believe you’re just acting out some issues you’re having with your dad. Or being here at Equinox. Or something.”

  “But I’m not,” I said. “I know it looks that way, but it isn’t.”

  “Okay, then, you’re not. If you say it, I believe you.”

  I blinked. “Really?”

  “Really.” She leaned forward and planted a big kiss right on my lips. Everything around us seemed to freeze in place. For a moment, it was only she and I, alone, on a field, locked in each other’s arms.

  Then, the sound of Greggers’s whistle shattered the air. It was quickly followed by a blare of trumpets and gunfire of drums, courtesy of the marching band. Oliver was looking daggers in my direction, gesticulating wildly for me to rejoin the team.

  “Time for you to get in formation,” Colleen said reluctantly. She curled her fingers around the collar of my jersey. “Guess I’ll have to give you those favors some other time,” she whispered. She leaned back and wiped imaginary dust off my shoulders. “Now, go win me that play-off!” She whirled around in a wave of golden hair and was gone.

  “Right, then. I will,” I said in a daze after she left. I was still blinking after her like an idiot when Oliver grabbed my arm and dragged me onto the grass. I felt lighter, somehow, than I did before. I just managed to remember how to get into formation as we took the field. Specs’s weary voice announcing the teams, the rallying cries of students and families . . . it all seemed far away. I concentrated on looking for Colleen in the fire section.

  We might actually win this thing, I thought as the marching band’s music settled down. And I might actually be happy about it. Even if House of Air doesn’t win—if I don’t win—Colleen will still believe in me. She’s stuck with me this far, after all.

  That’s odd. I caught a strange scent on the breeze. It was coming from my team’s dugout. I turned my head, and saw an empty wheelbarrow on the sidelines next to the dugout. Was it there before? I inhaled deeply again. The scent seemed out of place. We were well into spring, and yet, something here smelled like autumn. Woodsy, like fallen leaves, or acorns.

  I shook my head to clear it. Never mind. Time to focus, Alderman. Get your head in the game. For Colleen.

  We stood in our three lines with four players across, faces solemn. In the back rows of the water team, I could just make out Zaira, who looked very determined. A few fire witches—Roger, Nadine, Dirk, and Mason—were floating sparks over the water team and sending them sizzling down. It was difficult for the players not to react when the stinging magic hit their arms and shoulders. Zaira actually cried out, which prompted everyone to turn and look at her. Victor watched the whole thing with that sadistic smile of his. Suddenly, Professor Martinez pointed at the offenders, then made a slicing motion across her throat. Abruptly, the sparks disappeared, and Victor’s protégés slumped back down in their seats.

  What a bunch of reprobates, I thought.

  I saw Oliver and Daniel Cho staring at each other, their expressions betraying nothing. Miles’s face stiffened a little when he saw me. I tried to keep my own face blank while the spectators got settled in their seats. It wouldn’t be easy going up against him, my friend. My sort-of friend. Not to mention the fact that, when we were watching the first play-off, Miles insinuated that House of Water had some slick plays up their sleeves. And he wasn’t one given to exaggeration. We saw Specs rise from his box and clear his throat.

  “As the defending champions,” he called, “House of Water has priority.” It may have just been my imagination, but his voice seemed a little more tired than before. “May the best team win. Let the last play-off for this year’s Tournament officially . . . BEGIN!” The hourglass above the middle of the field lit up with the number 45 in gold. By the time Specs sat back down, the crowd was already in a frenzy.

  I squared my jaw and splayed out my hands as I stood before Miles. Friend or no friend, this wasn’t personal. It was business. Or academics. Whatever. I had to beat him, no matter what it took. I only hoped I didn’t hurt him too badly in the process.

  He threw a ball of magic at me and missed, but just barely. Actually, it came a lot closer than I would’ve liked. I sent a gust of wind to knock him off his feet. Not too strong; just strong enough to send him sprawling. But it didn’t. Somehow, he managed to lean into it, flip over, and land on his feet again.

  Damn. House of Water has been practicing. This might not be as easy as I thought. Out of the co
rner of my eye, I saw Cho’s magic rotating Oliver in the air, as if he were a gigantic Wiccan pinwheel. Oliver managed to come out of it just in time to cartwheel onto his feet without going down.

  Not easy at all.

  Several members of the air team got called out in a row. There were deafening cheers from the water section as I continued to struggle with Miles, and Oliver with Cho. A curly-haired boy whose name I couldn’t recall used an equilibrium spell that threw off Jae’s balance. Jae grabbed the sides of his head and weaved drunkenly back and forth, trying to stay on his feet. He rose in the air, trying to shake off the spell. After five seconds, he cringed hard, his face twisting in pain. He slammed to the ground, but landed on his feet, wincing as the shock of the landing went through his ankles. Greggers’s whistle pierced the air.

  “TIME!” she cried. The sand in the hourglass stopped falling, suspended in midair. Greggers pointed at the curly-haired boy. “FOUL!” Specs stood up in his box and leaned forward on the railing to get a better look.

  “I didn’t do anything!” He raised both hands in surrender, the remains of the equilibrium spell falling away. Jae shook the last of it off his head, running his hands over his face and through his hair.

  “He’s right.” Cho strode over, followed by Oliver and the rest of the teams. “He didn’t touch Kim—not even with magic.”

  “He is right.” Oliver folded his arms and smiled. “Kim did it all by himself. We all did.” He indicated himself and the air team. “Or will do, if we hover for five seconds.”

  “Do what?” Cho’s brow furrowed in confusion.

  “Shock ourselves with static,” Oliver answered proudly. “As an early-warning system that we’re about to get called on a travel.” Jaws dropped, followed by disbelieving murmurs around the field.

  “That’s against the rules!” cried one water player.

  “Bollocks is what it is. Pure bollocks,” protested another.

  “Actually, it’s against the rules to purposefully cause your opponent harm,” Oliver corrected. “There are no rules against doing it to oneself.” He looked to Greggers. “I checked.” There were echoes of “Blimey!” and “I’ll be buggered.”

  “You ain’t gonna let air get away with that, are you, Coach?” asked the curly-haired boy.

  “He’s right.” Greggers pursed her lips. “Though maybe we ought to start having some rules on masochism—”

  “But not in time for this match, Mrs. Greggers,” Specs called. His keen fae ears had caught the entire conversation. He sat back down. “Carry on.”

  Greggers shrugged and motioned for the teams to resume their positions. The water players grumbled as they took the field.

  “Still doesn’t seem right,” muttered the curly-haired boy.

  “Hey, if they want to zap themselves, I say, let ’em,” said another water witch. “So long as it ain’t me.”

  “But they might win!” protested the curly-haired boy.

  “That’s called outsmarting your opponent.” Oliver rubbed his hands together as he prepared to face off against Cho again.

  “You are not smarter than us,” snapped the water witch.

  “I still say it seems like cheating,” the curly-haired boy muttered. The sand in the hourglass resumed falling, and the match continued. Employing Oliver’s strategy, the air team managed to avoid being called on travels, and got quite a few water players out. Oliver was the recipient of his own static more than once. But no matter how many times it stung him, he never let it affect the strength of his spells. He kept the same stoic expression on his face despite the pain. Each hit only seemed to make him more determined to win.

  After twenty-five minutes, it was time for the break. Only about half the original air players remained, including myself, Oliver, Jae, and Grace. The water team still had Cho, Miles, Zaira, and many others. I sat with Oliver and the others in the dugout. We were sweaty and filthy. The mood was starting to get bleak. We leaned our elbows on our knees, our backs against the wall. Oliver paced back and forth in front of us.

  “All right, team,” he was saying. “I’ll admit, it’s touch and go. But we can still turn it around.” He pounded one fist into his palm and kept marching. “Now is the time to refine our strategy. To come back stronger than ever.”

  “Pssst. Pssst.” I looked up to see a fringe of yellow hair hanging above me. Not as much as before, but just enough for me to know who it was.

  Colleen, get out of here. Oliver will kill you if he thinks you’re interfering with his pep talk. I watched Oliver continue striding back and forth. Far from losing steam, he actually seemed to be getting more animated.

  Just came to give some encouragement to my faaavorite knight. She sent me an image of herself seated above the dugout, leaning back, bare legs crossed in a very compromising position.

  Col-leen! Stop that. I’m supposed to be concentrating on the game. I took a swig of water from the bottle at my side, trying to shake the image of half-naked Colleen from my mind.

  I’m giving you a mental break, she protested. Now the image changed to a very naked Colleen lying face down on top of the dugout, toes pointed toward her head, backside covered only by a red satin sheet. Besides, I’m sure you’ll all do just fine. Especially with that static strategy. Veeery tragic and sexy.

  It was Oliver’s idea. Now, he was waving his arms back and forth, practically yelling about how strength of mind equaled strength of body, or some such.

  I’m sure you’re just as clever. The image of her over the dugout changed again. Now the satin was between her legs, covering only a small triangle there, while the rest of her remained exposed. My eyes bulged. I squeezed them shut and pressed my fingers to the sides of my head, trying to clear it of visions of Colleen. Sort of.

  Yes, okay, you’ve made your point. You’re beautiful and sexy, and we’re both fairly clever. Our kids would probably be supermodel geniuses. If we could have kids, I mean. I winced. Crap, I thought to myself. Why did I bring up kids? We were still only dating. We hadn’t even . . . well. Talking about kids made it seem like I thought we should move in together tomorrow.

  I expected Colleen to give another flirtatious smile, and assume another enticing position. I was actually rather looking forward to the latter. Instead, the smile fell from her face. The image of her changed from mostly naked to fully clothed in her school uniform. The glamour was gone—literally and figuratively.

  Presumptuous, aren’t we? she thought sourly. What makes you think I even want kids? I already know I’m not having them.

  Bit early to decide that, isn’t it? I hesitated before taking another sip of water. Evidently, I’d made a bigger faux pas than I thought.

  I can’t, Colleen thought back. Physically. There were tests done.

  Oh. I paused. Sorry. Though an odd thing to test for, at your age. Unless you were accused of knocking some girl up, I joked, hoping it would lighten the mood.

  Little chance of that happening. Colleen’s voice was even darker than before. Look, I have to get back to the fire section. Tell Miles that Pen says good luck, and sends all manner of French kisses.

  Ugh. I will. And hey, thanks for—but Colleen and her thoughts had already moved on, heading back to the bleachers.

  That was weird, I thought. I guess Colleen is more afraid of commitment than I thought. I made a mental note not to mention children—biological, adopted, or otherwise—for a long, long time. Besides, it wasn’t like I was ready to be a dad. Before I met Colleen, I hardly thought I’d have a future at all.

  Greggers blew her whistle to indicate the game was about to resume. The air team clapped as Oliver finished his speech (I still had no idea what it had been about). I stood up, stretched, and telepathically gave Pen’s message to Miles as we took the field. I felt his blush from several yards away.

  I found myself more determined than ever to turn things around for our team. It was partly because I thought it might make me look better in Coll
een’s eyes. Redeem me for whatever gaffe I’d made with all that talk about kids. I saw Grace force Zaira back with a spell shaped like a wind tunnel, and thought air had a real shot at an out. But then, a smile appeared in the corner of Zaira’s mouth. The ground around Grace started bubbling up. At first, I thought Zaira was just drawing water onto the field, turning it into a squelching mess of mud.

  But then, the mud bubbles started to pop. They revealed toads, frogs, lizards, worms, and all manner of water-loving, earth-dwelling creatures. A few frogs leaped onto Grace’s legs. She took one look at them and screamed.

  “GET THEM OFF GET THEM OFF GET THEM OFF!” Grace flew into the air so fast, her lower half was a blur. “Oh my gods, they’re so slimy and mingy and EW!”

  After ten seconds, Greggers blew her whistle. “TIME!” she cried. “Number Eight, Saxon, is OUT on account of travel. One point to House of Water!” The water section stood up and cheered. Grace flew off the field faster than I’d seen anyone ever do, shrieking about heading straight for the showers.

  The same thing started happening to other members of the air team. They squealed when Zaira’s toads and newts came after them. Zooming into the air, they ignored the shock of static that was supposed to be their warning. Some ran off the field entirely, forfeiting their positions.

  “OUT, OUT, OUT!” Greggers shouted, pointing and blowing her whistle like crazy.

  “Get back here, you cowards!” screamed Oliver. He was barely audible above the water section’s cheers. “What are you, afraid of a few reptiles?”

  “Some of them are amphibians,” Zaira pointed out.

  Damn, damn, and double damn, I thought, flinging salamanders off myself left and right. That is some serious mojo. Miles wasn’t kidding when he said House of Water had superior spells.