Fantastic Schools: Volume One (Fantastic Schools Anthologies Book 1)

by Christopher G Nuttall

  Over the next hill, they indeed saw a small cabin. Inside, it had a tiny kitchen, two bedrooms, and a living room with a fireplace, couch, and recliner. For Grant, the best part of staying in a cabin was they wouldn’t need to set a watch or use sentinel spells. It had no electricity, so they lit lamps.

  Hector immediately went into the basement and returned with a chilled haunch of deer. “Perpetual cold spell down there.”

  He and Sue started cutting meat for supper, throwing raw cuts to Cafall.

  Lisa turned to Grant. “Think you can put some of those spells you didn’t cast today into scrolls? They might come in handy.”

  The red robe winced and blushed. “I honestly don’t know if we have time. I can scribe one per day, yes, but the writing has to be absolutely perfect, you know.”

  Lisa’s eyes widened. “You have always had atrocious penmanship.”

  “And now it costs me dearly,” he said with a nod. “It’s a -4 penalty to all scribe rolls; -2 even if I take my time. When I was in the magic school, the scroll teacher almost went from white robes to red because of his frustration with me.” At her laughter, he explained, “I swear his robes got red marks once. He only passed me when I promised not to take any electives with him. That was no problem. I didn’t have time for any electives.”

  He cocked his head, unable to remember why the Three had put him through an accelerated plan. Giving up on the memory, he took off his glasses and cleaned them.

  “Hey, you two,” Sue said, “We’re almost ready in here.”

  Joining them, Lisa placed an empty wine skin on the counter. “Create Water,” Lisa intoned, followed by “Water to Wine” once the wine skin was full.

  Grant refused the glass she offered. “No, thank you. Not one drop,” he told her.

  His three companions looked at him questioningly.

  “Seminary rules,” he simply said, taking a seat. He didn’t tell them that he avoided alcohol, anyway.

  During their brief supper, Grant noticed that Sue’s laughter seemed forced at his jokes. Something about the glint in her eye as she looked sideways at her husband made Grant decide she tended to the evil end of the spectrum-either Chaotic Evil or Neutral Evil. Realizing that, Grant decided that Hector was either Chaotic Neutral or True Neutral. It wasn’t for certain, but marriage partnerships worked best when the spouses were close in alignment. If she was evil, Hector was something Neutral but not Lawful.

  After supper, the four sat together in the living room. Cafall at their feet, Sue sat in Hector’s lap in the only chair, leaving Lisa to share the couch with Grant. Three of them had wine glasses. Whoever arranged the furniture had placed the couch and chair perpendicular to the fireplace. Grant was closer to the silent fireplace than Lisa.

  Sue said, “It’s getting cooler at night.”

  “I’d be glad to light the fire,” her husband said, “but someone is sitting in my lap.” He wrapped his arms around her to show he wanted her to stay.

  “Oh, allow me,” Lisa said, leaning over Grant and extending her hand to the fireplace. “Fingers of Flame.” She pressed her back against him and put a hand on his leg.

  Fire burst from her fingertips and caught the logs on fire. Smoke went up the chimney as the fire popped.

  “Who needs a tinderbox?” Hector laughed as Cafall got up from his place at the ranger’s feet and stretched out in front of the fire.

  Grant raised an eyebrow as Lisa straightened up but said nothing.

  “What’s your job like in the regular world, Hector?” he asked, removing Lisa’s hand from his thigh but otherwise ignoring the cleric.

  “Oh, you’ve heard how middle management is. I assure you, the reality is worse,” he said, forcing a laugh. “If it weren’t for the employee discount, we wouldn’t even shop there.”

  “Any children, Sue?” Grant continued, seeing that Hector didn’t want to talk about his day job.

  “The twins are staying with Grandma and Grandpa this week. They’ll probably have toy flutes or drums when we get back.”

  Hector shrugged. “I tell you; they’ll be bards when they cross the Veil.”

  “Every boy thinks he can be a bard!” Sue said. “The way they are with the dog, though, they’ll follow in your footsteps.”

  After a bit more chatter, Hector whispered something in Sue’s ear. His wife nodded and rose from his lap.

  “We still have a quest to finish tomorrow. We’re heading for bed.” She held out a hand, pulling Hector to his feet and snapping her fingers for Cafall to follow them. “You two don’t stay up too late.”

  “We won’t,” Grant said. “Lisa, you can take the other bedroom. I’ll stay on the couch.”

  “Oh, but it’s not time yet.” She pouted, prettily. “You can tell me about your life, and I’ll tell you about the Matronae.”

  When Hector and Sue disappeared into their bedroom, Grant moved from the couch to the chair.

  “Afraid to sit with me?” Lisa asked, steel in her eyes and voice. “Those red robes tell me you’re neutral. You shouldn’t require a chaperon.”

  “My frat brother and normal questing companion is a paladin. Force of habit, and one I agree with.” He didn’t tell her how her closeness threw him off balance. He smelled the scent of flowers and Lisa. It reminded him of her shampoo and brought back pleasant memories.

  “Tell me something. Is seminary boring? I’ve always imagined it to be, reading all those dry, dusty books, but not being able to do clerical prayers.”

  Grant relaxed a bit, warming to the conversation. “It certainly can be. It was for me at first. That’s because I was doing it all wrong. I had fantastic grades, but my relationship with Jesus was lacking. Then, with the Veil, I discovered something.”

  She leaned forward on the couch towards him. “What was it?”

  He leaned forward, anxious to tell her. “That serving God is drudgery only if you aren’t sensing Him. Once I opened my eyes to His works all around me, it became amazing! When I realized the meaning of Jesus’ saying ‘render to Caesar what is Caesar’s,’ even more snapped into place! The coin was owed to Caesar because it had his image on it. I owe God everything because His image is on me! I use my talents in His service! Mixing together academics and the relationship with God is everything I’ve ever dreamed of!”

  Lisa played with the skirt of her dress. “I used to be what you dreamed of, and we used to be very close.” The blue-eyed woman took one of the flowers from her hair and smelled it. “I have missed you. I always wear daffodils. Know why?”

  Because the corsage I got you for homecoming had daffodils in it.He looked away for a moment, knowing she was going to come onto him. How much did he want her to?

  “The breakup was mutual, and, more importantly, I am seeing someone.” He looked back at her, his mouth a hard line. He hoped he wasn’t telegraphing his struggles.

  The ex-girlfriend rose gracefully from the couch. The flame in her blue eyes did not come from the fireplace.

  “Extinguish,” she said, gesturing towards the oil lamps. The lamps in the living room and kitchen puffed out, leaving only the crackling fire to light the room. Everything plunged into shadow. “How serious is this ‘relationship’?” She played with the shoulder of her dress, pushing the fabric aside to reveal just a bit of smooth, white skin.

  Grant rose from the chair. “I am tired, Lisa, and we both need sleep to refresh our spell slots. That is, I assume clerics of the Matronae refresh in the morning?” Grant felt himself pulled by memories of her. He struggled to stand perfectly still with his arms hanging down. He wanted to enfold her in his arms.

  “Yes. Plenty of time for sleep.” She held out a glass of wine towards him.

  He kept his face hard and emotionless. Alcohol hadn’t tempted him in years. However, Lisa had been his high school sweetheart, and their romance had been the talk of the school. Their flame burned out when he was getting ready for college, but she still had another year of school. Neither wanted a long-dist
ance relationship back then. They had said good-bye to their forever. Within a month, he regretted it, but his friends back home told him she had gotten over him quickly, vaulted over him was the phrase Chris used.

  Lisa stepped close to him, gazing up into his eyes with a soft smile on her face. The firelight played across her tall cheekbones.

  He remembered holding her. Heart pounding, he yearned to feel the reality. She was here now. He could relive the memories just by wrapping his arms around her. He longed to kiss her once again. However, he could not imagine what that action would do to Karen.

  “No,” he simply said, stepping away from her and to the fireplace, still facing her.

  “I promised to tell you about serving the Matronae,” she said, desperation biting at her words.

  “Not tonight,” Grant said. Perhaps not ever.

  She balled her fists. “I was wrong to give up on us back then. I’m not letting go now.” Lisa strode from the room, slamming the bedroom door.

  Grant let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Outside, he heard something far away let out a canine howl. He had thought he wouldn’t have to do this since they were in a cabin, but he took the black, guardian skull from his pack and placed it on the end table next to where his head would be.

  Gripping the brain cover, he said, “Activate.”

  Meanwhile, in the scrying room, Chrissy shook Karen to wake her. “You’ll want to see this!” she hissed.

  Always one to awaken slowly, Karen sat up. “Coffee?”

  “You won’t need it. Look in the water!”

  Karen felt her eyes widen as she saw Lisa sitting next to Grant on the couch with no one else in the room. “Oh, I’m going to kill him!”

  “You don’t mean that,” Chrissy said. “Your robes would turn black as night.”

  “Not if it was justified!” she muttered as Grant stood up from the couch.

  “I don’t think it would be.”

  Karen shook a finger at the black robe. “Grant is Lawful. He would have to break the relationship with me before pursuing her!”

  “Well, he’s not giving in to her.”

  As Karen watched, wringing her hands, Grant turned away the cleric and told her to leave.

  “He did it!” Karen said, throwing her head back and howling with laughter. “I should have trusted him more!”

  When Karen stopped laughing, Chrissy was looking away from her with a single tear running down her tattooed cheek.

  “You aren’t upset that he’s passed this part of the test are you?” Karen couldn’t believe it. Yes, Chrissy was Evil, but she and Grant were friends. She should want him to pass the Trials. However, the black robe hadn’t liked Karen until a few hours ago. She might still want to see the white robe suffer.

  “It’s not that,” the raven-haired, black robe said in a low voice. “It’s my Scar.”

  Karen’s face fell, and she played with one of the streaks in her hair. The Scar. Many passing mages left the Trials with a physical change, like the white streaks in Karen’s hair. Not all—not even most—only the mages who dug the deepest into themselves for the magic. For those who did, the Three would choose the Scar to reflect the Trials or something the student still needed to learn. “What did they do to you?”

  “Remember how I used to laugh and joke all the time?” When Karen nodded, she continued. “I can’t hear laughter anymore. I can hear everything else around the sound but not laughter itself. The Dark One wants me to be more serious.”

  Karen felt the blood drain from her face. She reached out to hug her new friend.

  After a light breakfast, the companions set out on the final leg of the journey to the cave. By Sue’s calculations, they should make it by noon. Lisa said little to Grant. Grant made notes in his spell book regarding the spells he had cast yesterday. He loved gaining arcane knowledge.

  “What happened between you two last night?” Hector asked Grant during a rest break. The ladies were across the clearing, discussing a feather Sue had found on the trail.

  Seeing no reason to sugarcoat the truth, Grant simply said, “I turned her down.”

  He ducked under a branch from a low-spreading tree.

  “I knew she was going to make a play; I could see it in her eyes. You’re a stronger man than I thought.” Hector gave the compliment graciously.

  Grant tilted his head and pushed his glasses up. “Tell me. If Lisa threw herself at you, would you accept her offer?”

  “No, but I’m married.”

  “And I have Karen. I won’t do anything to hurt her.”

  “Would she ever know?” Hector asked, scratching his beard.

  Grant shrugged. “I would know that I had broken my word. God would know. That’s enough.” Out of shame, he didn’t tell how close he came to giving in.

  Hector shook his head. “You’ve always got to talk about God. Ever think of Mystic Theurge?”

  “Weekly, but I’ve put so many levels in Moon Mage that it seems a waste.”

  Hector patted his shoulder. “The sooner you start, the sooner you get there. You’ve got enough ranks in Knowledge of the Mystical Arts. You just need a few in Knowledge of Religion. You probably have them from real life. That means all you need is to multiclass into cleric or oracle for two levels. Then, think of the spell slots you’ll have!”

  Grant nodded. Mystic Theurges gained both arcane and divine spell slots with every level up. “I’ll consider it. My questing party does need a cleric, and I like theology, as you know.”

  A high-pitched bark split the air.

  “Hey, fellows!” Sue shouted when they looked towards her and Cafall. “Time to travel, or are you going to shoot the breeze all day?”

  With apologies, the men rejoined the women and continued. Grant sidled close to Lisa. “Lisa,” he said, “I’m sorry I hurt you last night; we’re questing together and can’t have bad feelings between us.”

  Lisa smiled sadly. “That’s good to hear. I won’t push. I’m just glad to hear you’re happy.” The slight quaver in her voice told Grant she was putting on a false front.

  “There it is!” Hector called out as Cafall jumped around. “The door.”

  In the face of the hill about a half mile away stood a stone door. They hustled to get there, encouraged by the sight.

  “Sue, check it out,” Hector ordered.

  His wife checked all around the door for traps. “It’s clear, but no locks for me to pick.”

  “It must need a magic word or something,” Lisa said, bending down to look at the carvings.

  “Anybody know how to say ‘friend’ in Elvish?” Grant joked, looking at the carvings himself. He couldn’t even recognize the alphabet the letters were in.

  Lisa straightened up, dusting the dirt from her dress. “It needs both arcane and divine magic to open. Grant, your spells words are over there.” She pointed at the left side of the door. “Hector, Sue, be ready in case something unfriendly jumps out.”

  The ranger and rogue took ready stances.

  Grant stood to the side and began to chant the language of magic. The powerful energies surrounded him and threatened to lift him off his feet. This was like a scroll instead of a prepared spell. He didn't have to use one of his prepared spell slots to do it.

  Standing near him, Lisa whispered the words to the prayer on her side of the door. Her voice got louder as she went on, in time with Grant.

  As their respective words neared a crescendo, Lisa grabbed Grant’s hand. He did not break away. The door began to swing open!

  To the party’s surprise, Lisa faltered in her prayers and fell backwards. She landed limbs akimbo.

  As always, the magic drained him. At his next level up, he was buying more endurance! Wearing down, Grant continued chanting, now looking at her side of the door. The words were incomprehensible still, but he reached into his pouch for the arcane components needed right now. He let the sand sift through his fingers and blaze out of existence as it fell.

&
nbsp; When he finished his spell, he began to pray, asking the Lord of Heaven to open the door. “You, O God, open doors and no man may shut them, and you shut doors and no man may open them. Grant it to us now!” He said this loudly—in excitement, not command.

  With a burst of light, the door opened, grinding against the stone.

  Hector and Sue applauded.

  Breathlessly exhilarated, the wizard extended his hand to Lisa. She took it and rose back to her feet. She smiled back at him, but not before he had seen the flash of anger in her eyes.

  The cave beyond the door was dark but shallow. To Grant’s surprise, the pile of treasure lay not twenty feet from the door.

  “No guardians,” he said. “Traps?”

  “I’ll check,” Sue said, crawling through the open door and carefully going over the floor. “We’re good. Come on in just this far.”

  The three other humans and the dog followed. Cafall knew to stay with Hector.

  The ranger looked at the pile of gold in front of them. “This is a good haul, even split four ways.”

  Lisa and Grant knelt down to put the gold coins and jewels in bags-of-holding Sue handed them.

  When they finished, Sue said, “Yeah, good split four ways. Even better if only shared by a couple. Sneak attack, witch!”

  The rogue slapped Lisa in the back of the head with a black jack. The cleric fell forward onto the stone floor.

  Grant spun as Hector swiped past him with a knife. “I’m not terribly surprised!” Grant said as Cafall bit his sleeve and tugged.

  “Why not?” the ranger asked, telling Cafall to continue the attack.

  “You clapped too quickly after we opened the door. You weren’t prepared to defend us if something ugly came out.”

  As the married couple sought to close a pincer attack around him, he said, “Acid Splash.” The spell wouldn’t be enough to harm them, but it did distract.

  “Protection from Projectiles!” he shouted as Hector loosed a shaft his direction. He needed to go on the offense. Inspired, he whipped around, pointed at Sue, and took bat guano and sulfur from his component pouch. “Stay right there or I launch an enhanced fireball.”