Academy of Magic Collection

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Academy of Magic Collection Page 7

by Angelique S Anderson et al.


  They tugged Rase forward. Wonders on top of wonders. Will it ever stop? Jess was missing out on all of it. He frowned. He had to get her to use her powers again. She had to still have them. He pondered as they went.

  They exited on the other side of the atrium, through a passageway nearly identical to the first one. They passed by dozens of classrooms. Rase peered into as many as he could, shocked at the variety. One reminded him of an old-fashioned conservatory, filled with tropical plants and blooms as big as his head. Another boasted floor-to-ceiling padding.

  Roger gestured toward it without stopping. “Flight training for those that fly.”

  “Fly? Some of us can fly?”

  “We can all speak to animals, but some of us have other abilities, too,” Roger answered. He moved side to side.

  Kumiko extended her arm in front of Rase and pointed. “My favorite room. The library.”

  That brought Rase up short once more. He loved libraries. They held so much. “Can I look?”

  “Tomorrow,” Freya said.

  They continued on another hundred yards down a hall. Every few feet, another spotlight shone on another portrait of other persons he didn’t recognize. Each one getting more and more… other.

  Until he reached the portrait of a pointy-eared woman that seemed familiar. Yet his compatriots dragged him forward until they came to the end of the hall and a portrait of Hobson. Facing the somber, painted android, they stopped.

  Rase looked one way and then the other. “What are we doing here?”

  Roger stepped forward until his nose nearly grazed Hobson’s chin. Then he toe-tapped a knothole on the wood plank flooring.

  Once. Twice. Three times.

  Then Roger stepped backward. “No place like home, Hobson.”

  The ground vibrated beneath their feet. The girls grabbed at each other, and Rase couldn’t decide whether or not to brace himself against the wall. The false wall slid to the side, painting and all, and exposed a shiny metal hatch with a red lens in the center.

  Roger nodded once then bent at the waist. He pressed his eye to the opening. The scan showed as a light, moving across his face. A moment later, the seal disengaged with a hiss and the circle door rolled away.

  A dimly lit square box waited. They shuffled Rase inside and the round hatch closed once more. Rase’s middle tickled as the elevator started downward. It reached the bottom faster than any other elevator he’d ever been on. At least he guessed it did. He had no idea how far below the manor they were.

  No one spoke as an identical round hatch opened in the same way as the first.

  Rase gaped. Although shadowed, the inside of the basement didn’t look anything like the school above. It resembled a high-tech lab… with the corridors of a giant spaceship beyond.

  He let out a low whistle. “That’s some tech down here.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” Roger said.

  Kumiko stepped out, glanced to her left, and then leapt back out, startling all of them. “Hairy frogfish,” she yelled. “You scared me.”

  Freya and Roger shared a look. Freya popped inside and then back out, appearing back inside the elevator in the middle of a peal of laughter.

  But Rase stuck his head out.

  Beneath the shine of a flashing red light, Blackfox stood with his arms crossed, his expression stern. “It took you long enough. I nearly gave up on you.”

  Roger guffawed. “You knew we would bring him down?”

  Blackfox held up a hand. “I did not know, but I hoped,” he said. “Besides, the ivy picked up on Kumiko’s idea, warned Hobson, and Hobson warned me.”

  Kumiko stuck her bottom lip out, but her eyes twinkled. “I have been here too long. That ivy knows me.”

  “You spend the most time with it,” Roger said.

  “It makes good conversation.”

  Rase turned, careful not to think of the gryphon. “Can’t get away with anything here, can you?” When could the ivy read thoughts? He had to be careful until he managed to get Jess into the Academy.

  Blackfox ushered the group back into the elevator. “Come along. Hobson mentioned Ms. Timefix is on her way up. He saw her on the gate cameras.”

  Rase considered the other students: their shining eyes and jubilant smiles. “Ms. Timefix?” he asked.

  Blackfox waved his hand and the door on the elevator whooshed closed and began its ascent. “She’s an instructor here.”

  “The most fun,” Roger said.

  Kumiko grinned. “She woke me with a cloud of butterflies yesterday morning.”

  Roger glowered. “I got dragonflies the morning before.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad,” Rase said. The elevator opened again.

  Roger stepped forward. “They were actually tiny winged dragons. They caught my bedding on fire with their shenanigans. Thank god my roommate hadn’t yet arrived.”

  Freya sniffed. “Well, that should teach you to steal from the sweets jar.” He glared.

  “Don’t be silly. Timefix hasn’t liked me since I arrived.”

  “Nevertheless,” Blackfox interjected. “Let’s meet Timefix and help her unload her car. She’s spent the whole day shopping for food supplies. She has to do it until Mee returns. Timefix will be in a mood, but we might be able to sneak a cookie or two.”

  Rase studied each of the students. “Who’s Mee?”

  Kumiko giggled. “The most amazing chef. It’s like she never runs out of hands.”

  All three students smothered laughter. Even Blackfox’s mouth twitched.

  “What does that mean?”

  Roger punched his shoulder. “You’ll see.”

  Freya leaned close to Rase’s ear. “Told you they keep the best stuff in the basement.”

  Rase grinned. Maybe his decision hadn’t been the wrong one after all.

  But a tremor tripped along his spine.

  How had Jess’s first day at New Haven High without him gone?

  Chapter Seven

  The Hairy Clan

  Jess shivered and chewed her fingernails. She wasn’t in a dream. She knew that. She had picked a fight with a real cellar troll in the New Haven High’s basement. It had caught a fantastical primate.

  What else had been trapped? Her heart ached for the bound creature. Beneath the mortal school, a cellar beast hid beneath, just out of view. What horrible things hid in the basements across New Haven High?

  Preeme trussed the limp pearl-monkey like a suckling boar and then lumbered around the butcher block, growling at her with every step. The sound rumbled through the basement until the lamplight flickered.

  His upper lip peeled back, exposing dirty, rotting teeth as large as Jess’s feet. He spit at her.

  A large glob landed near her shoes, and Jess flinched. The concrete bubbled beneath the putrid liquid.

  Jess took a deep breath and pressed her palms together, summoning a rush of magic that grew until her hands glowed, flames dancing over her arms. Wake, little one. Wake. She pushed the thoughts toward the primate prisoner on the table.

  Preeme tipped its head to the side, studying her hands. “You do have a tetch of magic.” The troll grinned. “Some skill you have, then?”

  Her knees quaked, but she lifted her chin. “Of course, why else would I challenge a cellar beast such as you?” She spoke with more force than she felt.

  He beamed at her. “You reek of fear, but today’s shaping into an exciting one.”

  “The presence of fear has nothing to do with acting with courage.”

  On the table, the monkey’s fingers twitched. Behind the troll, the tribe of eyes appeared once more. If Jess could keep the ogre busy, they could save their friend… all she had to do was survive.

  Preeme advanced. Slobber dripped from his open mouth.

  Jess gritted her teeth and dropped low, spreading her arms. Small fire whirlwinds swirled above her palms. She shoveled her fear into the swell of power that heated her middle, and the dancing flames brightened as bravery
grew.

  Preeme snapped his fingers and the lamp on the table snuffed out, throwing the whole room in stark relief, everything dressed in soft light and dark shadow.

  The remaining light came from Jess and the magic she held. She pushed her palms forward, trying to mimic the Kung Fu movies Rase loved.

  “Lotus fingers,” she muttered. It sounded so stupid, but it was the only thing she could come up with. She visualized releasing the surge she held, and the magic poured from the creases in her hand, launched from her and sizzling through the air toward Preeme.

  The ogre ducked to the side, the stream missing his head by an inch. He took another step. “Not so easy.”

  “I wasn’t even trying.” Her bravada didn’t even sound convincing to herself. The creatures materialized from the shadows. Thirteen pearl-monkeys appeared, each one carrying crude shields, swords, and spears. Each face had been painted with a pale grey woad that sparkled in the way the light glinted on their teeth.

  It took everything Jess had not to stare at them as they advanced. Her heart pounded in her eardrums, drowning out the sounds. She held her breath to listen for others in the cavern, scanning the shadows. Did cellar trolls live in pairs?

  Faster than Jess had ever seen anyone move, Preeme grabbed another stock pot from the shelf beneath the butcher block and flung it at her.

  Jess dropped to the floor but not fast enough. The heavy pot clipped the top of her head and knocked her back. Her light winked out, and the blood gushed almost immediately. Fighting dizziness, she straightened, summoning another rush of magic.

  The glare of her fire nearly blinded her, but she could make out the silhouette of the foul giant now towering over her. She shot another stream of magic fire toward him. It struck him in the chest with such force that he took a step back.

  She scrambled to her feet.

  “Ooof.” All the air rushed out of him, spreading over her in a rancid cloud that made her eyes water.

  She blinked the moisture away in time to see his weight shift. Still woozy from the head wound, she spun away but her toe caught on the leg of the prep station, sending her tumbling across the basement into the unexplored shadows.

  He lunged for her, and his fingertips grazed her back. He lumbered after her. The ground shook and dust fell from the ceiling.

  With her hand held high, Jess dashed into the dark. Twigs snapped beneath her feet, and she glanced down. They weren’t sticks. Bones. Tiny bones. Her mouth dried, and her pace slowed. How many of them had he eaten? Her light faded.

  Laughter rumbled near her ear. She launched forward… too late.

  Jess grunted as a meaty hand closed in her hair and yanked her back against himself. “No, you don’t. I will feast on you for days.”

  She screamed as loud as she could.

  Somebody has to be out there. Somebody has to hear me.

  He refreshed his hold on her hair, dragging her behind him. “No one will hear you down here. Even if they came down, they would not see you. There’s a ward that separates us from them,” he crowed.

  He snapped his fingers and the lamp came back on.

  She kicked and flailed, and her heels slammed against the cobblestone. Pain shot up her legs, but Preeme didn’t let go. He didn’t stop until he reached the butcher block.

  From her position, she could see them all. Twenty-eight sets of full-moon eyes watched. Why didn’t they do anything? She tried to save their friend.

  Jess tugged on the hand in her hair, but he had a super glue grip. Tried… and failed.

  Preeme dragged his arm across the surface of table and sent the bound one flying toward the luminescent eyes observing from the shadows. He lifted Jess onto the table and pulled restraints up from the sides. He tied her down—spread eagle. The fabric bit into her wrists and her ankles.

  She took a deep breath and reached for the magic that had always been there. But she couldn’t summon it. As the truth of her predicament sank in, she convulsed, throwing her head from side to side. “What did you do to me?” she screeched.

  He tapped the table with a blackened fingernail. “A slab from a Repressor tree. It’s my prized possession. Makes all sorts of delicacies possible. Unicorn steak has been my favorite so far. Maybe you’ll be my new favorite.”

  Jess jerked her limbs inward… to no avail.

  Preeme took a deep breath. He grinned, and a slobbery glop slid over his lip and down his chin. “I can smell your innards. I’ve never had girl before, but you smell delicious.”

  Jess made useless fists, yanking and pulling, but getting nowhere. “I’m no girl.”

  He bent, rummaging on the shelf below. “Close enough.”

  While Preeme picked through his supplies, Jess spun slowly. The audience of eyes had gone. No more hope remained. To think, Jess had been most worried about the mean girls and her flares of temper. She would be eaten by an ogre on her first day of school without Rase.

  Rase… Her phone dug into her butt cheek. She should have texted him.

  Jess squeezed her eyes closed. Hot tears slid across her temples, and her throat ached from holding back sobs. The creatures had what they came for. They’d leave her behind to be eaten.

  Preeme took a scalpel from the tray of utensils and poised it over her belly, smacking his lips. His eyes glowed, and saliva dripped from the points of his teeth.

  Jess closed her eyes and braced for the first cut. I’m sorry, Mom.

  Anger surged in the shadows, and a chorus of hisses filled the room. A gang of footsteps rushed toward them. Small spears sailed over Jess and a bevy lodged in Preeme’s chest.

  The beast roared, twisting away. He scooped a club from the shelf beneath and rounded to face the attackers.

  A pale flood, teeming with little bodies, poured out of the shadows, each face streaked with glittering grease paint. Their fur sparkled. As one, they opened their mouths wide and shrieked.

  Preeme swung the club and sent a dozen flying across the space.

  Jess winced as each impact echoed as a sickening thud.

  The mass split. One throng converged on Preeme. The other washed over the butcher block. They leapt over Jess, moving faster than she could track. An army of combatants less than a foot tall.

  One of them tugged on Jess’s binds. Another hissed and clamped down on the fabric, slicing through it with its teeth. They moved to her next appendage. The moment all four had been cut, Jess rolled to the side and dropped off the table. She watched from behind the butchering spot.

  Her group of saviors leapt from the butcher block onto Preeme’s back. One of them climbed to the top of the ogre’s skull.

  Jess gasped. She didn’t know how to help. She rummaged through the shelf, but she couldn’t throw a pan. She might hit one of the little ones. She still couldn’t summon a burst of anything. She backed away from the table. Maybe she was too close.

  On the other side, Preeme batted at his attackers, but there were too many, and he no longer had his bargaining chip. He swung his club wildly, knocking the primates one way then another. Preeme grunted with each blow of a landed spear.

  Finally, Jess summoned a bit of flame and fashioned a fiery orb. She took a deep breath and lobbed it at the back of Preeme’s head, narrowly missing the monkey on top.

  Preeme bellowed, a long stream of sickening curses poured from his mouth.

  The monkey on top called back to its brothers, and a spear followed. Plucking it from the air, it shoved its spear into Preeme’s ear and twisted.

  Preeme froze, and a hush fell over the horde. He wobbled in place.

  Pearl-monkeys started dropping from its back, abandoning the teetering troll.

  His eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed to the side, felled by a single, miniature spear.

  A cheer went up but quickly died down as they surveyed the injured.

  A group of slender pearl-monkeys approached. They moved among the wounded as nurses. Jess couldn’t see their power, but they healed as they went. Closed
eyes opened, and fallen warriors climbed to their feet.

  This. This she could do.

  Jess joined them. Taking their small hands in hers, she repeated the short spell, and her hands glowed in a fire that did not burn.

  Without sound, they gently carried two into the center of the group and laid them next to one another, crossing their arms over their chests and passing a soft hand over the eyes. Each healer pressed a hand to the chest, causing the body to tense. After they had all tried and tried again, together, the tallest of them lifted its chin and loosed a mournful cry.

  It reverberated in Jess’s soul.

  All gathered around the two that could not be returned to life.

  Jess could barely breathe.

  When their songs had been sung, a stooped pearl-monkey came to a stop in front of Jess. She settled on her knees and leaned forward. There wasn’t an easy way to make eye contact with the petite warrior.

  Jess dipped her chin. “Hello.”

  It gestured toward the one that had been trapped. My child.

  Jess nodded, overwhelmed by the joy that rolled off them in great happy clouds. She smiled and dashed tears from her cheeks.

  A long line came by her and bowed. Gratitude and feelings of brotherhood flowed from each one.

  When the thank-you’s ended, another aged tamarin ambled in, great portions of its fur twisted into dreads or braided. Beads glinted in the lamplight. It wore a pouch around its middle and looked as though it had taken a bath in the greasy gray sparkle dust. It leaned heavily on a crooked walking stick. When it reached Preeme, it poked him twice with the tip of its staff.

  Preeme didn’t budge.

  Then it bopped Preeme on the cheek. When nothing happened, it climbed on top of the ogre and planted the tip of its walking stick between Preeme’s fat rolls. Like a flag. Then it raised two arms and screeched toward the ceiling.

  The surviving warriors answered in kind. The cacophony ricocheted off the cinderblock walls, each bounce amplifying the jubilant cries.

  Jess clamped her hands over her ears. Screaming monkeys.

  Then the noise died away as abruptly as it had begun. The old-man tamarin reached into the pouch and pulled a red powder from inside. It whispered words Jess couldn’t understand as it sprinkled the dust over its one-time enemy. Then it hopped down and disappeared back into the crowd.

 

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