Outlaw: Spellslingers Academy of Magic (Enforcer of the East Book 2)

by Annabel Chase

  Mia balked. “The river? Are you mad? We’re not water witches.”

  “Exactly. They’ll never expect us to hide in the water.”

  Mia heaved a sigh. “Sometimes, I hate when you’re clever.”

  “You don’t have to hide with me,” I said. “You can choose a different spot.”

  “What if you get swept downstream?” she asked.

  I pointed to the water. “It’s barely moving. There’s minimal risk of going with the flow right now. Besides, I can magic an anchor.”

  “And drown us both?” Mia asked. “No thanks.” She glanced around the cavern. “I’ll stick to dry land. I’d rather you did, too.”

  “Mia Holmes, are you trying to mother me?” I couldn’t help but smile. Usually, it was the other way around.

  “I’m trying to keep you alive.”

  “Yes, that’s what mothers do.” I shoved down thoughts of my brother. Now wasn’t a good time for those memories.

  Fragments of rock dropped from the ceiling and scattered nearby. We both jumped in response. Mia motioned to a section of the cavern about twenty feet away. “I’m hiding over there. I see a spot I can squeeze into and then use a glamour.”

  “Sounds like a winner,” I said. I turned and headed to the riverbank. The water was as still as one could hope. I produced my wand and performed a spell that gave me gills. Bryn wasn’t the only one capable of lasting underwater. If the spell worked, the gills would remain intact for the duration of the training session. I slipped into the water, careful not to splash in case anyone had entered the cavern. I swam until I was completely submerged and opened my eyes. The depths of the river were surprisingly beautiful. None of the usual underwater creatures resided here—no fish, crabs, or amphibians. Lots of plant life, though, and stones.

  One in particular called to me from the bottom of the river. The small black oval shimmered, begging me to take it. I ignored my chaperone’s warning. What harm could one stone do? I swam down and scooped it up. The black opal was streaked with blue, red, green, and purple. They reminded me of multi-colored lightning across a dark sky. It would be a gorgeous addition to my collection. I tucked it carefully inside the pocket of my pants so it didn’t float away.

  I was still smiling when I saw it in the distance.

  A multi-headed serpent.

  A hydra.

  Unfortunately, it had spotted me first and was pushing through the water toward me at a rapid rate. My heart stuttered. I still held my wand in my hand, so I aimed it at the creature and tried to utter a spell in Etruscan. Not so easy underwater. Bubbles shot out of my mouth instead of words.

  Stars and stones.

  I launched myself to the surface and swam as fast as I could. I didn’t have time to reach for a rune rock in my other pocket or even conjure a spell. Bryn and Dani were in the cavern, scouring the area for any sign of suspects. The moment my head split the water, Bryn spotted me. Her mouth cracked into a wide smile, but the smile quickly faded. I knew what her expression meant.

  The hydra was close.

  I couldn’t let it breathe or bleed on me. Both were poisonous.

  I summoned the magic vibrating around me and pulled the sharpest rock formations from the ceiling. They plunged down and nailed the hydra on several heads. One dropped unconscious but the others kept coming.

  I threw up a shield between us and kept kicking the water, trying to make it to the riverbank without the use of my arms. Fire streaked past me and attacked the heads of the hydra. I jerked my head toward my friends. Bryn’s empty hand suddenly produced a sword. Her sword. If I lived through this, she was going to have to tell me how she manifested her own sword in this cavern.

  When I turned back, one of the heads was dangerously close. “Great Goddess!” I yelled. Its breath dissipated against the invisible shield. I breathed a momentary sigh of relief and kept kicking.

  Bryn raced to the water’s edge, sword in hand, and continued running straight across the surface of the water, as though it was dry land.

  “Put up a shield,” I called.

  “Got it,” Bryn yelled. She wielded her sword like a champion. One swift strike and a head fell into the water with a huge splash. “Now, Dani!”

  A fireball flew overhead and hit the empty neck, burning the stump to prevent another head from emerging. This was the reason we continued our studies at the academy, for moments exactly like this. Chancellor Tilkin would be proud.

  “Six to go,” Bryn yelled. Six more deadly heads.

  Mia appeared above me, using her air magic to propel her over the river. She attacked the hydra from the safety of the air, careful to maintain enough distance to escape any breath or blood shot in her direction.

  I called to my magic again and felt my body buzz with energy. I yanked more weapon-like rocks from the walls and ceiling and launched them at the hydra. It swatted a few of them away with its serpentine tail but a few projectiles managed to do some damage. Bryn’s sword continued slicing and hacking at the moving heads.

  “The poison is starting to penetrate her shield,” Dani said urgently.

  I made it to the riverbed and climbed onto dry land. I didn’t even bother to get up. From my spot on the ground, I concentrated on the bottom of the river. I called to the plant life, to the seaweed. I pictured it wrapping around the hydra’s long body and securing it to the basin. More fire streamed past me and burned the empty necks until only one head remained. The hydra thrashed and tugged, struggling to free itself from its restraints.

  “Mia, go behind Bryn,” I yelled. “Her shield is down.”

  She understood. She shifted her position in the air to hover behind Bryn. When the hydra released its poisonous breath, Mia was there to blow it back. She pushed out her hands and kept Bryn safe so that the water witch could lop off the last head. It hung off the neck by a thread.

  “It’s like a loose tooth that refuses to come out,” Bryn said. She gave it a final whack and the head landed in the water in front of her. “Dani, you’re up.”

  Dani conjured another fireball and threw it at the stump with perfect aim. The empty neck turned black and the creature collapsed and sank below the surface.

  Applause erupted behind us and I jumped to my feet. Bryn ran across the width of the river, shining with excitement.

  “Well played, witches,” Warden Armitage said. He and Gray stood at the entrance. I could see a backlog of trainees piled up behind them.

  Bryn took a bow. “That was some putrid breath I had to smell. Even worse than yours after a garlic bagel, Madge.”

  Madge scowled in response.

  “This wasn’t planned, was it?” I asked.

  “Gods no,” Gray said. “Hydras are notoriously hard to kill. Great teamwork, witches.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “What’s a hydra doing here?” Mia asked, returning to the ground.

  “The river leads to entrances to different underworlds,” Warden Armitage said. “You’re bound to find at least one hydra guarding them.”

  “Not this one,” Bryn said, jerking her thumb toward the river.

  “Do we win anyway?” Dani asked hopefully.

  “You all lived,” Warden Armitage said. “I think it’s safe to say that makes you all winners.”

  Chapter Two

  Professor Stephen Langley stood behind a wooden table at the front of the classroom. Scampering around the floor behind him was Mrs. Butters, his chicken sidekick extraordinaire. Mrs. Butters gave the professor an air of whimsy that undercut his somber and often hypercritical demeanor. My roommates and I filed into the first row of seats at Dani’s insistence. Dani made a point of sitting at the head of the class in order to take copious notes, and also to make sure she was directly in the professor’s line of vision.

  “Today's session will cover the concept of sacrifice,” Professor Langley said in his usual clipped tone. He clasped his hands behind his back and assumed his scholarly pose, the one we often imitated in our room after on
e too many sugar cookies.

  Mrs. Butters stopped in her tracks, as though hearing the word ‘sacrifice’ and wondering whether her time had finally come. I was confident she had nothing to fear. As stodgy as the Advanced Arcane Rites professor could be, he adored that ridiculous chicken.

  “And in discussing sacrifice, I do not mean sacrificing cheese because of your diet, or sleep in favor of a night out, or your integrity for the sake of a bad relationship.” A few pupils snickered. “I am talking about sacrifice in the context of your future careers. Ritual sacrifice. Evidence of a sacrifice. Which type of sacrifice means there is a summoning in progress? Which type of demon is it based on such evidence? These are all important points that we will review together beginning today.”

  “How to sacrifice a personality for the sake of an academic career,” Bryn whispered.

  I smiled in response. The water witch always made me laugh. Bryn had been a welcome addition to Spellslingers when she arrived on campus less than three years ago. Chancellor Tilkin discovered her in Terrene, and whisked her to safety at the academy. Bryn had no idea the strength of her powers. Although she’d known she was the daughter of the evil sorcerer Volans Moldark, her entire life at that point had been spent hiding from him and that included hiding her magic. The revelation that he had died years before had been both a blessing and a cruel shock. Talk about sacrifice—Bryn and her mother had sacrificed years of their lives hiding from someone too dead to purse them.

  “When I use the word sacrifice, which group springs to mind first?” Professor Langley asked.

  Dani’s hand launched into the air before anyone else’s brain had a chance to register the question. “Druids,” she said. No surprise that Dani was quick to answer. Her boyfriend, Peter Zilla, was half druid. Although modern druids didn't use human sacrifice, the group was still strongly associated with it thanks to their history.

  “Indeed,” the professor said. “And why did they perform such sacrifices? What were their goals?”

  “To curry the gods’ favor or persuade the gods to take action on a certain issue,” Dani said, with a confident flip of hair over her shoulder.

  The professor watched her expectantly. “An issue such as?” Mrs. Butters clucked at his feet, as though trying to get his attention.

  “To protect them from an attack would be a strong motivation,” Dani replied.

  “Very good.” The professor wasn’t immune to the chicken’s pestering. He scooped her up and tucked her under his arm while he continued the discussion.

  Ollie Fitzgibbons raised his hand. “Excuse me, sir. How did they decide on the victims? Did they get volunteers?”

  A few pupils laughed and Professor Langley shut them up with a withering look. “To the best of our knowledge, in the druid culture, there were no tributes. They would start with criminals, but if they ran out, they would move on to the innocent.”

  Milo waved his hand. “My grandfather told me that the druids were cannibals, too. They’d sacrifice the victims and then eat them to gain strength.”

  “I have heard such tales as well, but am not aware of any recorded evidence to support the claim,” the professor replied.

  “How about your boyfriend, Dani?” Milo whispered. “Does he nibble on your arm at night to gain strength? Because I’d wager it’s not working.”

  “I doubt it’s her arm he’s nibbling on,” Paul interjected.

  Dani glared at them. “I’ll be sacrificing you to the bottom of the lake after class if you don’t watch it.”

  They were fools to goad Dani. She could best them at just about anything they could think of.

  Mrs. Butters quieted as the professor stroked her feathers. “Can someone name another group associated with ritual sacrifice?”

  “The Maya, Aztecs, and Incas,” Madge LaRue called from the back row.

  “Ah, yes,” the professor said. “Located in which part of Terrene?”

  “Modern day Mexico and Central America,” Madge replied smugly.

  “She answers one question and she thinks she’s a genius,” Bryn mumbled.

  “Technically, she answered two questions,” I whispered back.

  Bryn’s face split into a good-natured grin. “Spoilsport.”

  “And what was their purpose?” the professor asked. “What did they hope to achieve through sacrifice?”

  Not to be outdone, Dani’s hand shot up. “They believed that blood was nourishment for the gods.”

  “Yes. As you know, blood is often an essential part of a ritual, even today,” Professor Langley said. “It creates bonds that otherwise would never have been. It breaks bonds. It is symbolic. It is a life force…”

  I blanked out the rest of his description. My brain got stuck on a single sentence—it creates bonds that otherwise would never have been. Bryn’s blood magic allowed her to create and destroy bonds. Her magic tied Callan and I together when we first met at Allegheny Forest. When our bond was finally broken, we realized that we’d developed feelings for each other.

  Except what if we really hadn’t?

  What if our attraction was only a result of the bond? My mind rushed back over the details of our relationship. I’d kissed him first, when we’d been hiding from the Hunter in a tree. That moment had been completely out of character for me. I think the moment had taken both of us by surprise. Was there a chance our feelings for each other weren’t real? Maybe I only kissed him because of the blood bond. Even though the bond had been broken for months, Callan and I could be dealing with some kind of spillover attachment. My gut twisted. As much as I didn’t want to consider the possibility, I couldn’t ignore it. How could I know for sure?

  “Cerys, what’s wrong?” Mia whispered.

  “Nothing,” I lied. “Why?”

  “You’ve gone pale,” she replied.

  I touched my cheeks. “Have I? Must be all the talk of sacrifice.” I forced myself to tune back in to the lesson.

  “Sacrifice of a chicken,” Priscilla was in the middle of saying. “Lots of spells require it.”

  Professor Langley glanced at Mrs. Butters with an inscrutable expression.

  “What about sacrifice for family?” Dani asked. She had intimate knowledge of that example. She’d sacrificed her childhood to become the best witch she could possibly be in order to restore honor to her family name.

  “Good as a possible motive for a suspect’s criminal behavior, but not quite what we’re discussing here,” Professor Langley replied. He tapped his wand impatiently on the edge of the desk. He must have taken it out when I was daydreaming. “Another example, please.”

  “God sacrificed His only son,” Ollie volunteered.

  “Ah, there we go. The Christian angle,” the professor said. “And what do all these types of sacrifices have in common?” He zeroed in on me. “Miss Davies?”

  “They’re for the greater good,” I replied. “One life for the sake of many.”

  “Very good,” the professor replied. I slumped against my seat, relieved. Like most students, the mere threat of Professor Langley’s disapproval was enough to make me break out in hives.

  “Good job,” Mia whispered.

  “So do we consider the sacrifice a selfish act in that case?” Professor Langley asked. “Imagine yourself in a Celtic village and the druids have chosen your father to be sacrificed because they’ve run out of criminals.”

  “No, sometimes they did it to stop a famine or a war,” Priscilla said. She folded her hands on the table in a prim manner. “That was for everyone’s benefit. ”

  “Everyone except those who were sacrificed and the loved ones they left behind,” Bryn pointed out.

  “Arguably, it was intended to benefit the loved ones left behind because it was meant to help the whole community,” Priscilla said.

  “I shouldn’t have started down this road,” the professor lamented. “I enjoy a good philosophical debate as much as the next professor, but it’s best left for another time and place.”


  Ollie drummed his fingers on the table, his signal to the entire class that he was deep in thought. “Isn’t it important to figure this out, though? In our criminal psychology class, we’re trying to understand our opponents so we can beat them. Isn’t it also important to decide whether an act of sacrifice is justified? Maybe Bryn is right and it isn’t enough that it benefits others. The cost isn’t worth it.”

  “The sacrifices we’re discussing today have long been made,” the professor replied. “Although we can endeavor to understand them, alas, we cannot change them.”

  No, we cannot.

  I thought of the secret I harbored—of plunging a sword into my former brother’s chest. Sweet Hecate. I was only thirteen when my younger brother Folant died after falling from a tree. In their grief, my parents attempted to bring him back through illegal necromancy. They brought something back, but it wasn’t my brother. My parents couldn’t bring themselves to destroy the monster, so I did it for them. Alana once said during a therapy session that I’d given up my innocence so that my parents’ consciences could remain clear. Instead, I was burdened with the memory of killing him. I’d sacrificed a part of myself that day for the sake of my family. The professor was right in that the past couldn’t be changed, but the repercussions of past decisions were still very much in the present—maybe not for the ancient druids—but certainly for me.

  Alana intercepted me before I managed to knock on the door. Her long white hair was in its usual braided style and she wore a chain with a small stone around her neck. The barefoot druid stepped outside her office and closed the door.

  “No session today?” I asked the healer.

  “Oh, I won’t let you out of it so easily. Come with me. I would prefer a bit of ambience. Indoors can be so stifling, don’t you agree?”

  “Naturally.” My affinity for the earth was at least as strong as hers. “Where do you have in mind?”