"There are a lot of ways to use this trick," said Instructor O'Keefe, waving for everyone to quiet down. "You can give a target frequent small undetectable amounts that over time make them more susceptible to your requests. Or you can overwhelm them with an immediate dose, though as you saw, Eddie knew he was being manipulated, so you have to work subtly."
She patted Eddie heavily on the shoulder. "That wasn't so bad, was it? There are a lot worse fates. Yer lucky Priyanka doesn't let me polymorph anymore. Tis a sight to see a man reduced to a simple guinea pig, or a parakeet. But it's hell on resources, and hell on the students. Alright, now for the next demonstration."
Instructor O'Keefe retrieved a small black bead from the table. She held it up.
"Anyone know what this is? Probably not. It's what made that delicious panty-wetting explosion at the beginning of class. Priyanka likes to go on about its formal name, but I like to call it a urine spreader, 'cause everyone within a hundred feet are gonna piss themselves when it goes off."
She looked to Eddie, pointing to the center of the factory. "I want you to run to the center—act like you're goin' out for a throw, like that ridiculous game you call football."
The knotted forehead of concern was back. Eddie made no move towards the center of the factory.
"Don't worry, Eddie. I'm not gonna hurt ya. And if I do, you won't mind 'cause you'll be dead," said Instructor O'Keefe. "Go on now, run along."
Zayn was surprised when Eddie started jogging away. Maybe it was the leftovers from the suggestive enchantment, which was probably why Instructor O'Keefe performed that trick first.
Eddie made it part of the way towards the center, stopped and held his hands out, as if to ask if it was far enough. But she waved him further towards the center.
While he was running, she turned back towards the class. "This Eddie of yours, ya don't like him? Can be an arsehole, eh? Well, don't ever say that I didn't do anything for ya."
Before anyone could say otherwise, she turned and launched the black bead, the urine spreader as she liked to call it, into the center of the factory where Eddie was just turning around. The bead sped through the air as if it were on a string. As soon as it reached Eddie's location, and right as he was noticing it, she snapped her fingers and Eddie was consumed by a blinding explosion.
When the flash had cleared from his eyes, Zayn looked back to the center of the factory to see a ball of black smoke slowly rising to the ceiling, revealing a stunned Eddie, still standing, completely unharmed.
"You can come back now," said Instructor O'Keefe, waving him in. "Now that you have a good idea of what we can do, I'm going to have you learn how to make a few of these on your own, using mostly mundane supplies."
A group of fifth years walked into the room and took up positions at the various tables.
Zayn led his team to the first table. While the fifth year taught them how to make privacy matches that could hide conversations from interested ears, they discussed how to get out of the bottom group.
"It feels like every time we get close to getting out," said Vin, "we catch a bad break."
"Can't get unlucky forever," said Portia.
"We're being too cautious," said Zayn. "With only four in the group, we can't afford to be average. We've got to be great. That's why I picked you all."
"And we see how that turned out," said Skylar.
"I get it," said Zayn. "I really do. But we can't think of this as high school. We're not here to learn a few things, get some grades, and join some corporate structure like normal folk. When we get out of the Hundred Halls, we're going to be in the thick of things. Our lives could be on the line. And we won't have the instructors to bail us out or tell us it'll all be okay. We've got to think beyond the lessons, beyond the spells, beyond even what the instructors think we should learn."
Vin shook his head softly. "I don't know, Zayn. That sounds like a recipe for doing something really stupid. We're only first years, and barely three months into our experience at the Academy. It's not like it's life or death as soon as we graduate."
Zayn opened his mouth, but he couldn't conjure an argument that would sway them. He could see in their faces that they didn't see things the same way he did. They didn't know how it was in Varna. When he got out of the Hundred Halls, unless he could figure a way out, he'd be forced to work for the Lady, which was like a death sentence.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," he said, grabbing a box of matches. "No one's going to die right away when they leave the Academy."
But some of us might wish we were dead.
Chapter Thirteen
The Hold, December 2013
A morning jog with Instructor Allgood
"Get up, maggots. Time to train."
Zayn cracked one eye open to see Instructor Allgood standing over him in his gray duster, leaning on his clawed staff. He couldn't quite remember what day it was since they all seemed to blend together, but recalled a light dusting of snow in the city a few days ago.
Vin must not have been awake, because from the bed next to him, he asked, "What kind of training?"
The clawed staff moved in a blur. Tangled in his covers, Zayn barely managed to throw himself off the side to land heavily on the floor. The claw end hit right where his stomach would have been.
Instructor Allgood chuckled appreciatively. "How did you know I was swinging for you and not your overly talkative teammate?"
Zayn started disentangling himself from his covers. "Your right foot pivoted to the left, which meant you were bringing the staff in my direction and not at Vin."
"And why would I hit you when Vin asked the dumbass question?" asked Instructor Allgood.
"Because we're a team, and what happens to one, happens to all," said Zayn, standing in the center of the room in his boxers, wiping the sleep from his eyes.
"Good. Maybe you're learning something after all. Get your running gear on, something appropriate for the city, and meet me at the portal. No need to worry about your personas. Today's lesson will not involve them."
After he left, Zayn changed clothes, adding an extra layer for the wintery weather. It was a couple of weeks before Christmas, and a cold front had turned the city hard.
Portia stripped down to nothing before rooting around in her clothes bin, throwing shirts and underwear everywhere. Zayn admired the tight muscles across her back and legs. She was built like a wrestler now, and she wasn't the only one. The months of training had changed them.
When they arrived at the portal, Instructor Allgood took a long look at Skylar's bright pink outfit, but miraculously said nothing. Zayn counted a second miracle when Vin opened his mouth to ask a question, probably wondering where the other first years were, and then wisely closed it.
Rather than the maintenance hallway behind Brightline station, they stepped into a small room barely big enough for the five of them. Instructor Allgood touched some runes on the wall, and the door opened, leading them into a tattoo parlor.
Through the front windows, Zayn could see the Spire, but it was at a different angle. The signage on the window read Empire Ink.
"We're in the thirteenth ward," said Zayn.
Instructor Allgood made no comment, which Zayn took as a compliment.
A man wearing a tailored suit and wire-rimmed glasses sat at a tattoo station reading the Arcane of London newspaper. He looked like he should be sitting in a tearoom rather than a tattoo parlor, and the quality of his clothing didn't match the comic book posters on the walls.
"This is Percival Davies," said Instructor Allgood. "He will be your tattoo artist."
"Cheers," said Percival in upper-crust English accent without taking his eyes off the paper, which Zayn noted was the current day's issue.
"You'll be receiving your first Academy imbuement," said Instructor Allgood.
He put his boot on the nearest chair—receiving an eyebrow raise of disappointment from Percival—and lifted his pant leg, revealing a muscled calf. After a moment of concentra
tion, a tattoo of a bright red rose appeared.
"This rose tattoo allows me to channel my faez into physical strength and speed. When things get dicey, there's no time for spell casting, and in some situations, doing so would break your cover. We use these tattoos to put permanent spells on our bodies, allowing us to channel faez into them at a moment's notice. Think of the tattoo as a predesigned circuit board that only needs your magical energy to activate."
Instructor Allgood reached out with the claw end of his staff and gently pushed Skylar towards the table.
"I've never gotten a tattoo before," she said.
"And I've never had a pedicure, but you can be damned sure I would get one if our patron asked," said Instructor Allgood, pulling his leg from the chair. "You'll need to decide what you want the tattoo to look like. Pick something personal to you. Don't worry too much about what it'll look like on your skin because it will stay invisible unless you want it to appear."
Percival ruffled his papers, then he folded and neatly set them aside. After removing his jacket and gently hanging it on a hook on the wall, he rolled his sleeves up and pulled a new pair of blue rubber gloves from a box, fitting them onto his hands.
Skylar climbed onto the table looking a little pale. She took her shirt off, leaving her athletic bra. Percival cleaned her arm with antibacterial soap rather briskly until her skin turned pink.
"What shall it be?" asked Percival.
Skylar considered his question for a moment before leaning over and whispering in his ear.
"Interesting," he said as the tattoo gun buzzed to life.
Percival worked with supernatural speed. The portrait of a cartoon badger in a tutu came to life on her arm. When he was finished, he pulled out a second tattoo gun and went over the tattoo while whispering arcane phrases. The air had a metallic tint of faez to it.
Vin went next, receiving a towering redwood on his bicep.
"My family's from California, and the redwoods make me feel insignificant and somehow important at the same time," he said.
The interlocking symbol on Portia's arm defied understanding. When everyone was looking at her she explained, "It's the eternity knot." But everyone kept staring, so she added, "My father's a Buddhist."
When Zayn was climbing onto the table, Instructor Allgood said, "He's from Varna."
Percival nodded professionally and started preparing the area around Zayn's elbow. He didn't need to ask what tattoo he would receive, because he knew about the web tattoos from the Watchers in Varna, and now he knew why they were only occasionally seen.
When the thrumming tattoo needle was pressed into the skin above his elbow it made him grit his teeth from the vibration through his bones. The keening of the tattoo gun made him squint as he withstood the low-level pain. His teammates gave him a few questioning glances about the fact that he didn't get to pick his tattoo, but they knew better than to ask him in front of Instructor Allgood.
Zayn admired the finished tattoo in the mirror—the webbing covered his elbow in a pleasing pattern—while Percival threw his gloves in a wastebasket and cleaned up his station.
"Last group," said Instructor Allgood. "I'll see you again next year."
With his eyelids fluttering, Percival nodded his head and said, "Charmed."
He left through the rune-locked door in back.
The urge to ask a question was so apparent on Vin's face that Instructor Allgood gruffly added, "The energies required to keep a permanent portal to London are impossible. But he will be back in London before tea time." He tapped the ball of his staff on the tile floor. "Come with me. It's time to put those imbuements to work."
Outside the parlor, the morning was a faint blue nimbus on the horizon. Instructor Allgood shook his clawed staff and it collapsed and folded until he could shove it into his gray duster. The stowing of the staff happened so quickly, it was like a magic trick.
Instructor Allgood took off in a westward direction. He shouldn't have been able to move as fast as he could in heavy boots and a thick weather-resistant duster, but Zayn had a hard time keeping up.
"Channel some faez into your imbuement," said Instructor Allgood over his shoulder to the four of them. "Let's pound some pavement."
He surged ahead, his duster trailing behind him like a cloak. At his size, he looked like a charging bull.
Like a pink comet, sounding off with a whoop of joy, Skylar flew ahead, catching up to the instructor. Vin followed moments later, laughing.
"Come on, amigo. Let's fly," said Portia.
It wasn't hard to find the tattoo in his mind, but getting the faez into it took a moment, as if he had to reroute the energy pathways first. When the faez completed the circuit, laughter burst out of his lips unexpectedly.
"Sí!" said Portia, her face split with a grin.
They caught up to the others easily. Instructor Allgood let them run as a pack for a few blocks. He shared a crackling newness with the others as if he were alive for the first time.
"Now that you're warmed up, let's start challenging you," said Instructor Allgood.
He veered into a broken-down industrial park, leaping to the top of a chain-link fence and vaulting over.
Zayn poured faez into the imbuement and pushed off hard, flying up and over the fence completely. He went so far that he almost tumbled onto his back, but his faez-strengthened muscles were able to pull him out of the stumble.
"That's the way," said Instructor Allgood.
Zayn thought he was going to head deeper into the rotted-out buildings, but instead Instructor Allgood jumped onto an old diesel tank, his boots ringing it like a drum. Then he leapt through an open window on the second floor of one of the buildings.
The team followed Instructor Allgood through the interior of the building, dodging through old offices, leaping over desks, and climbing rotting stairs until they reached the roof. He went straight for the edge, jumping across a narrow gap to the next building.
The next phase of their rooftop parkour had Zayn oscillating between fear that he might miss and raw adrenaline.
After a few minutes of playing follow the leader with Instructor Allgood, he stopped on top of the tarred roof of a four-story building with a good view of the sunrise.
Laughter hung on their lips like bubbles as they caught their breaths. Vin had tears at the corners of his eyes, and Zayn shared the feeling of being overwhelmed.
"It's good, isn't it?" asked Instructor Allgood.
Zayn hardly knew what to make of the instructor's change. He wasn't their gruff taskmaster, but a cheerful leader.
The pinks of sunrise were deepening to red, and the top of the Spire reflected like a beacon. Early morning gondolas slid through the sky on invisible gossamer threads, catching the sunlight on their windows like morning stars, and for the first time since he'd come to the Hundred Halls, Zayn was truly glad he was there.
"Why did we have to wait so long to do this?" asked Vin, then realizing he had asked a question, slapped a hand over his mouth.
"I will for a short time allow a few questions. The first time faez-running is always the best and it can be a little overwhelming," said Instructor Allgood. "But we wait until midway through the year because your bodies aren't ready when you first arrive. If we gave you imbuements in the first month, you'd tear your bodies apart."
"So that's why you make us kick pads for hours every morning?" asked Zayn.
"Among other things," said Instructor Allgood. "Let me warn you that you are going to be very sore tomorrow, and the next day. From here on out, training in the dojo will involve faez-speed. You need to harden your body to it. There will be more rooftop parkour, and other training. The longer you do it, the more your body will become accustomed to the pulling and stretching, to a point, but that's a lesson for another day."
"I feel like a goddess," said Portia breathlessly. "Or a warrior monk."
Instructor Allgood nodded. "Last trip around the industrial park and then we'll head back to the Hold. You
're going to need a hot shower and a good stretching back in the dojo."
Before they resumed their parkour, he said, "I want you to push yourself on this circuit. Don't worry about following me if you're feeling your oats. You should be able to handle anything on the main path—it's marked with green paint splashes. If you're feeling adventurous, you can take the blue path, but stay away from the purple and red, you're not ready for those yet."
Instructor Allgood burst away like the wind, duster flying behind him. He went right over the edge.
"Last one back at the Hold has to serve Eddie tonight," said Portia as she sprinted after the instructor.
Zayn let the others go ahead and took one last look at the sunrise before pouring faez into the imbuement. It was easy to follow the others, noting the green splashes strategically painted on the sides of buildings and marking the roof. Instructor Allgood was a few roofs ahead, bouncing across them as if they were made of trampolines.
As Zayn ran, he channeled more faez, passing Skylar and then Vin in short order. He sensed them straining to catch up, and he hardly felt like he'd reached his limits.
The instructor veered left towards the blue path, and Zayn followed. The jumps were longer, the course more intricate, but Zayn had no problem following.
When Instructor Allgood noticed him behind, he went faster. Much to his surprise, Zayn found he could keep up. This seemed to surprise Instructor Allgood as well as he didn't bother hiding his emotions.
Then Instructor Allgood found another gear, and he blurred across the rooftops, heading into the purple path, which had seemingly impossible jumps. The instructor flew across a wide gap and landed a good ten feet beyond the edge of the next building.
Zayn followed, and gave it everything he had. The impact to his knees and ankles reverberated through his body, but as soon as he leapt, he knew he would make it across. For a brief and wonderful moment, it felt like he was flying. He wondered if his display might earn them a spot out of the bottom, and he was delighted when Instructor Allgood turned his head to see Zayn following.
The Reluctant Assassin Boxset Page 8
