by Ilana Waters
Victor chuckled again. “And word to the wise, you really ought to keep your private conversations, well, private. It was child’s play to have Mason follow Pen. I don’t know who she thought she was fooling with that urgent need-to-look-in-a-lab bit. But I guess you and the two Stooges didn’t think anyone else was around, because you didn’t even bother to shield your thoughts. Mason reported back to me, which is how I knew you’d be looking for me near the admin offices.”
“So, that’s why you weren’t surprised when I caught you.”
Victor blew a puff of air out his mouth that ended in a raspberry. “You didn’t catch me doing anything. I caught you. Cheating at Tournament. Ransacking the headmaster’s office. And opening this blasted box.” His fingers flew off the box’s edges as his latest attempt to open it failed. “The truth doesn’t matter anymore. No one’s going to believe you.”
A smile slowly spread across my face. I think it was the widest smile I’d had at Equinox. Except for last night with Colleen, of course. “They won’t have to.” I folded my arms across my chest. “They’ve seen it—and heard it—for themselves.”
Victor blinked in confusion. “What are you talking about? No one’s seen anything. You’re the only one who knows my plan, and you foolishly had Idlewild extend the no-spectator zone. Remember?”
“Did I now?” I walked lazily around the desk. Now, I was on the same side as Victor. “Or did I just say I did?” Victor’s smile started to fade, and a harder look—like stone—came over his face. “No, Victor, it wasn’t me who made this too easy,” I continued. “It was you. Too easy to have Pen lead Mason away, then let him overhear our thoughts: hers, Miles’s, and mine. To let you think I let Miles extend the no-spell zone to wherever I was. But it was all a ruse, Victor.
“They’ve been able to see and hear us the whole time.”
The blood drained from Victor’s face. The box fell from his hands. I could feel him checking for the spectator spell around me—something he’d pretended to do when I walked in, but in reality, he hadn’t bothered. He found it. He knew I was telling the truth.
“I knew I had to let you feel in control,” I said. “Like you were getting the drop on us, instead of the other way around. Only then would you let your guard down. Only then would you make your move. And you’re not the only one who takes precautions. Suyin’s been my lookout on the fire team this whole time. She was tasked with making sure no one but Mason or Dirk followed Pen into the lab, where she could have a ‘secret’ meeting. By now, I’m sure Pen found a way to tell her about the conversation she had with me and Miles.”
“It . . . it can’t be true,” Victor whispered. “There’s no way you could’ve planned that. You didn’t have enough time.”
“You’d be surprised by the schemes you can throw together while walking to a locker room.” It was hard not to keep smiling, so I didn’t bother to try. “A quick message to Specs before Tournament did the rest. Which is why he didn’t try to stop me when he and the spectators saw I was going through a no-spell zone.”
I sighed. “It’s like I said before: you don’t think earth, air, or water witches have any value at all. But I know better. I know I’m lucky to have friends like Miles and Pen. Suyin too. Even though they weren’t completely convinced of my innocence, they agreed to help me. If you made the move I thought you would when you believed the spectator spell was off. Of course, I suspected you were going to try to cock-up the spell anyway. But I needed it to actually be on so everyone could hear your confession.
“So, you see, Victor, it took more than one element to undo you. Me as air. Miles as water. Pen as fire. I hope that now, you can see the value of more balanced magic.” I squared my shoulders and looked straight at him. “But then again, you always were a little unbalanced, weren’t you, Victor?”
The blow came even faster than expected.
But Victor didn’t hit me. Instead, he raised both hands so quickly, I didn’t even have time to duck. Magic blasted from them, shooting me back against a full-length mirror hanging on the wall. I felt my body smash it to pieces, heard the musical sound of shards hitting the floor.
Then came the pain.
There was the dull ache at the back of my head. It felt warm and wet, too, so I knew I was bleeding. That was nothing compared to Victor wrapping his fingers around my throat, grinding my skull into the broken mirror.
But I was ready. I threw my own magic around Victor and flung him across the room. He hit a painting—already askew on the wall—encased in glass. It crashed to the floor, strewing more broken glass everywhere. I didn’t even have time to put my hand to the back of my head and check the damage. Victor flew at me, feet off the floor, and body-slammed me onto the desk. It broke in half, with me in the middle. It also knocked the metal box off, but Victor didn’t seem to care about that anymore. He was much more interested in strangling me to death.
Victor’s fingers seared my skin the way only a fire witch’s could. It was so agonizing, my eyes bulged. I would’ve screamed if I could. But I heaved just enough magic at Victor to throw him off me. He hit the windowsill and fell to the floor. Jumping up, he came at me again. This time, there truly was murder in his eyes.
I couldn’t get up in time. Before I knew it, the desk around me was in flames. Only the swiftest of protection spells saved my ass. Victor was standing over me, arms extended. If I thought he was unbalanced before, I hadn’t seen the half of it. Despite the intense heat, he was white with fury. He looked like a wild animal: hair falling into his crazed eyes, mouth wide open in an angry snarl, saliva gathering at the corner. He tried to form words, but all that came out were indecipherable, guttural noises.
It was exactly the same as our first fight. Only this time, instead of a tunnel, I was imprisoned in a ball of fire. I thought I had enough magic built up to take on Victor, at least till help arrived. But what I failed to account for was how much blind rage would fuel his magic. It took all I had just to keep the protection spell up. My supply of magic began to run dangerously low.
Powers of air, come to me now. Powers of air, I call upon you to—
Shit. This isn’t going to work. Victor was burning up all the air with those flames. I wasn’t going to be able to siphon it away like I did before. And I’d used up a lot of magic during Tournament. Lazy Victor had managed to conserve most of his, making his team do the hard work for him.
Miles . . . Pen . . . anyone! If you’ve a heroic rescue in mind, now would be a really good time. My heart hammered against my rib cage. Even with the protection spell, I was covered in sweat. I felt the heat seeping through, burning my mouth, my throat. What little air I could get was so hot, it hurt to breathe.
No one’s coming. The realization hit me like an iceberg dropped into my stomach, despite the heat all around me. No one will get here in time. I’m going to burn to death, just like the witches of old. Now my heart was beating so fast, it felt like one long whir. Futilely, I covered my head with my arms and squeezed my eyes shut.
Oh, God. This is going to hurt so, so bad. At least it’ll be quick. Please, God, let it be quick.
Just as I was sure the fire would claim me, I saw a blinding flash of white. I honestly thought it was because I was about to die. Then, I heard a strange sound. It was faint inside my fiery prison. It took me a moment to recognize the sound as glass shattering. The hourglass had exploded, the way it always did at the end of a game. Outside the window, I saw its brightness light up the nighttime sky. Tournament was over.
And so am I.
Then, I saw another flash—black, this time. The ball of fire vanished. I fell back, scooting frantically away from what was left of the desk. I looked above me, to the left. There, against the broken mirror, was Victor, writhing and snarling like something rabid.
And in front of Victor, pinning him with nothing more than a razor-sharp gaze, was Specs.
Chapter 27
I could see Victor’s fire magic trying t
o flare up again, but it kept getting pushed back down. He tried to tear his eyes away from Specs to break the spell. But that didn’t work, either. He was trapped; all he could do was writhe impotently against the crumbling mirror. Too bad most of the glass was gone. I’d have loved to see some of the leftover shards stab him. Victor gnashed his teeth, shoulders heaving, as he looked daggers at Specs.
Specs, on the other hand, looked as composed and focused as I’d ever seen him. He kept staring at Victor, eyes burning with a fierceness that welded Victor to the wall. One of his hands was raised, as if about to command someone to silence. His long, slim fingers hung motionless in the air.
And he was . . . himself. Long ears, dangling hair, glasses gone. This was the real Gilliam Specs. The one he kept hidden from the world.
His robes. The flash of black I saw. I gulped great lungfuls of air. Of course he got here in time to save me. He’s a fae. They move like greased lightning.
“Mr. Alderman, are you all right?” Specs asked without taking his eyes off Victor. I managed a few wheezing sounds in reply while I put one hand over the other on the wall, climbing to my feet.
“Good. I see you can still breathe. Now, if you wouldn’t mind—”
Just then, Miles burst through the door from one direction, and Pen and Suyin from the other. They promptly collided, sprawling across the room.
“Ow!” Miles grabbed his arm as he stumbled to get up.
“Josh!” Pen cried as she and Suyin leaped up, limping. “You’re alive!”
“Pen, Su! Miles!” My voice was weak. I looked down at my uniform. The edges of everything were singed, right down my boots.
“Fire team . . . went back to the field,” Pen huffed. She winced and rubbed her ankle. “Pretty dejected. We heard the hourglass burst.” Slowly, she caught her breath. “Knew time was up and we’d lost because, well, no Chalice. But Suyin and I slipped away through a laundry chute to check on you. That’s when I got your mind message. Oh!” She saw the blood running down my neck and shoulders. “You’re bleeding.”
“Here, mate.” Miles propped me up while I leaned on his shoulder. “Got your message, too. Good thing I never fully made it back to the stands. I had a feeling there might be trouble.”
Everyone stared agog at the apocalypse that was Specs’s office. “What in gods’ names happened here?” Miles asked. The fire had gone out as soon as Specs broke Victor’s concentration on the spell. But the desk was still a charred, smoldering mess. The acrid stench of burned wood lingered, stinging everyone’s eyes and nostrils.
Miles coughed, and Pen and Suyin made choking sounds as well. “Why is it so stuffy in here?” Miles gasped. “And—gorblimey! What is that?” His mouth hung open as he and the others gaped at Specs. I doubted anyone had seen his true form before.
If Specs was insulted, it didn’t show. “Mr. Idlewild,” he said, “if you would be so kind as to open a window.” Specs did not look away, but continued holding the furious Victor in his thrall. “I believe we need to let some air back into the room.”
“Sorry? Oh, right.” Miles handed me off to Pen. She took a handkerchief from her pocket and held it, telekinetically, against the back of my bleeding head. I nodded my thanks to her. Suyin began working some healing magic. I grimaced in pain. Miles heaved the sash up on the window behind Specs’s desk. “Damn fire magic burned up all the oxygen.” He coughed again. Suddenly, Professor Yen’s face appeared behind Victor in what was left of the mirror.
“Gilliam! Gilliam!” he shouted. In the background was a mob of people, pushing and shoving. “Are you all right? Is everyone safe?”
“Everything’s in order here, Argyle,” Specs answered calmly. “Don’t worry about us.”
“Oh, good.” A relieved smile lit up Yen’s face before he was temporarily jostled out of view by a spectator. “It’s complete bedlam over here. Entire crowd’s in an uproar over what they saw. It’s taking all we’ve got to keep things under control.”
“You carry on, then.” Specs nodded as Yen’s face disappeared, shouting to someone out of view. “Now, if one of you would be kind enough to retrieve my—”
Specs didn’t get the opportunity to finish. The rest of the air team—as well as my own, dear Colleen—exploded into the room.
“Joshua!” Colleen threw her arms around me, knocking the handkerchief from my head. The same motion also broke Suyin’s healing spell, but my head was mostly mended now. “Josh, Josh,” she sobbed and buried her head in my shoulder. I held her close and made shushing noises. She wasn’t as pale as she’d been right after her stabbing, but still a bit too wan for my liking.
“I saw what was happening on the big screen.” Her voice broke. “I got here as soon as I could.” My whole body ached, and the strength of her grip wasn’t making it better. But I didn’t care. I was alive. She was alive. There was nothing else.
Except the chaos all around us, of course.
“What happened on the big screen?” Liza demanded. She and the others tried hard not to stare at Specs’s new fae form. “Why is Victor in a faerie bind? And why does it look like a hurricane came through here?”
“Yeah, Captain,” said Rami. “What the hex is going on?”
“We tried to mind-message you a dozen times.” Jae gingerly stepped over a dented trash bin. “Finally had to use a locator spell to find you. Grace wanted to look for you long before and see if you were all right. But I told her you were probably just focused on finding the Chalice, and didn’t hear us.” He nudged Grace with his elbow. “Told you our captain wouldn’t abandon us in the middle of Tournament.”
“Well, actually,” Grace said, “yes.”
“Er, right,” I said over Colleen’s shoulder. She still hadn’t let go. “Sorry about that. But it wasn’t without cause.”
“Your captain caught a would-be killer.” Colleen finally let my body out of her death grip. “My killer.” She gave Victor a black look, then beamed at me and wiped away her tears. Despite the fact that my throat still burned from the intense heat, I explained what had happened for the benefit of my team. It was also for Miles, Pen, and Suyin, who hadn’t witnessed it on the big screen. I imagined the fire team had just arrived back on the field, and that the spectators were telling them what had transpired.
Bet Dirk and Mason are shitting bricks.
“You were right, Josh.” Miles stared at me and shook his head. “I’ll be buggered, but you were right about everything.”
“Of course, I didn’t realize I would actually figure out what Victor was up to—at least how he did it,” I added. “The hologram part was just a bonus.”
“Still, good show!” Pen smiled. Suyin nodded her approval.
“Excellent.” Specs’s voice was thin as he fought to hold onto Victor. “Now that we’re all up to speed, if someone would be so good as to retrieve a pair of bonds from my coatrack. Yes, over there in the corner.”
Liza’s eyes moved back and forth between me and Specs. She mind-lifted what looked like two circles of vines from the coat rack. Why does the headmaster have bonds on his coatrack?
With students like these, I jutted my chin toward Victor, you have to ask?
As soon as the bonds were within Specs’s reach, he grabbed them with his free hand. Then, he whirled Victor around, and had the magical cuffs on his wrists in seconds. Victor yanked at them, wrestling viciously. But he could not break free or use his magic, even though he seemed to be bound by nothing more than thin, green string.
“You’ll pay for this,” he snarled, seemingly to everyone, but mostly to me. “This isn’t over.”
“Oh, go to hell, you heartless bastard!” Colleen spat. “Unless you want me to come over there and personally escort you.”
“By all the gods,” Victor roared, “I swear I’ll—”
“That is quite enough, Mr. Wright.” Specs gave the bonds a hard jerk, forcing Victor backward. “I advise you not to say anything further until after I’
ve had a chance to alert the Council about tonight’s events. Further self-incrimination will not serve your best interests. Not that you’ve ever served anyone else’s.” Victor looked like he wanted to flay Specs alive, but did not say anything else.
“Ms. Rigaletti, Ms. Shapiro.” Specs handed Pen the bonds. “I trust you can see Mr. Wright back safely to his room, where he will be detained under the strongest protections until I can speak to the Council.”
“Happy to oblige, Headmaster.” Pen glowered at Victor as Suyin sidled up to him.
“And if he tries anything—” Specs started.
“We’re fire witches,” Suyin interrupted. Flames flared from her palms. Victor inhaled sharply and gave a little jump back. “We know what to do.” Pen continued looking darkly at Victor. She and Suyin held fire on either side of him as they left. Victor threw one last, hateful glare at me. I grinned in return. Even Specs gave a little smile as he watched Victor skulk out the door.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Grace said. Specs righted his desk chair—with its one broken arm—and sank into it. “I always knew Victor was a prat. I just had no idea how much of a prat until now.”
“I still can’t believe Headmaster agreed to let you trick Victor!” Rami glanced at Specs. “Not that it didn’t turn out brilliantly in the end, of course,” he added.
“I had a feeling Victor would pull something during Tournament.” I hobbled over to a chair that Colleen set up for me. Part of its stuffing was missing. “Whatever he’d been up to all year, Tournament was his last chance to pull the trigger on it. After he nearly . . . after Leenie nearly died,” I looked up at her, “I knew we had to act fast.”
