Familiar Magic (Druid Enforcer Academy Book 1)

by C. S. Churton

  I rose to my feet, a fireball in each hand, turning in a slow circle. Three more dinner plate sized circles launched themselves into the circle, one high, one low, and one straight at my face. I ducked the first, jumped the second, and blasted a fireball into the third, knocking it off track and preserving what was left of my face. I could practically feel Killian’s disappointment. I twisted and hammered fireballs into the other two before they passed outside the barrier again.

  At the start of the year, using this much magic would have exhausted me. Now, I was just grateful that Killian had worked us as hard as he had. I’d barely broken a sweat.

  Two more head-height circles flung themselves at me, this time coming from different directions, and I blasted them both. More kept coming, and I kept blasting them, too. A slow grin crept onto my face. After everything that had happened this year, it felt good to test my skills. Fun, even.

  Until one of the flying discs whacked into my shin.

  I snatched my leg back, cussing, then stomped down on the sadistic frisbee. It twitched under my foot, trying to complete its trajectory, and I stared down at it, wondering how I was going to torch it without setting my shoe on fire.

  I was still trying to work it out when something whistled through the air at me. I leapt aside, freeing the disc in the process. It spun into action, and I knew I couldn’t hit both targets before they got clear of the barrier. There was only one thing I could think of.

  Fire and air burst from my right hand, smashing into the disc, sweeping it up, and slamming it into the other target. The pair of them landed in a smouldering heap outside of the barrier.

  “Time,” Killian called, and I dropped my arms, panting. I cast a glance in his direction in time to see the impressed look flickered across his face. He covered it before I made eye contact.

  “Unconventional,” he said, and marked something on his clipboard. “You will have a sixty second break before we proceed to the second part of your assessment.”

  He strode across the room while I ducked out of the circle and grabbed a drink. Sixty seconds to recover was not long, as I knew from all my time training at Dragondale with the Itealta team.

  The thought pushed the satisfaction from me. Xavier cheating his way into my place on the team still stung. I’d followed their progress all year, and if there was one thing I knew, it was that they needed Stormclaw’s speed on the wing. Not that he’d let me ride him since that fall… The grin spread on my face again. The fall that I’d taken because Malaika had spooked him. Now that she was bonded and not unsettling the academy’s non-human residents, maybe I could get back on him – and back on the team.

  “If you’ve finished daydreaming, Ms Eldridge?”

  I jerked my eyes up to see both Killian and Elias staring at me. Crap.

  “Sorry, Instructor,” I said quickly. “I’m ready.”

  I hurried back into the circle – where I was no longer alone. While I’d been having my little revelation, another trainee had come into the chalk circle – and I couldn’t help but notice that he had his hands bound behind his back.

  “Uh…”

  “An enforcer’s first duty is to protect. We’ll be testing your ability to do that in a very literal sense. Your task is to protect your subject from all and any attacks for five minutes. Any hits on him, direct or otherwise, and including friendly fire, will count against you, and a killing blow will be an automatic fail. Mr Johnson has very kindly… volunteered for the role of the target.”

  The way he said it left me wondering exactly what Johnson had done to get volunteered for the role… but I pushed the thought aside. There was no more room for distractions, not if I was going to keep both of us safe. Johnson was wearing a shielding crystal, so at least he wouldn’t get torched if I messed up. Not that I was going to let that happen.

  “Begin.”

  The first fireball flew straight at Johnson’s head. I grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him back, launching a fireball of my own. It collided with the other one mid-air, knocking it aside so that it missed us both by the barest of inches. They slammed into the shield behind us and bounced off, but burned away to nothing before they reached us again – which was just as well, because I didn’t fancy defending Johnson from a hundred fireballs ricocheting all over the place.

  Two more fireballs crisscrossed through the air and I blasted them both, then wondered if I should have Johnson crouch down so that he presented a smaller target – less to protect. The thought bounced around my mind for another second or two, until the next fireball came flying at his feet. I yanked him aside and quickly ruled out that option. If he’d been crouching down there, I’d never have been able to get him out of the way in time.

  “Do you have any particular plan in mind,” he asked with polite disinterest, “or are you just planning on dragging me around like a ragdoll?”

  “Ragdoll,” I admitted. “No, wait. Maybe.”

  I stepped in front of him, stretched a hand out of one side, and pulled all the water from three of the buckets lining the room. I held one hand up high, and made it flow in front of us like a waterfall, sucking it back up to the top again when it reached the floor, so there was a constant gushing.

  I couldn’t see clearly through the watery film, but I saw a fireball pelt towards it, and fizzle to nothing as it hit the waterfall.

  “See?” I said, tossing a cocky grin over my shoulder. “Piece of cake.”

  A yellow swirling mass burst through my waterfall and I yelped, barely getting a hand up in time to send it past, and spraying the water with it. Fire, we were safe from. Air, not so much. And an airball could do just as much damage as a fireball if it hit you. I, personally, would prefer to avoid that.

  Abruptly, three more hammered at us from all directions. I grabbed Johnson and yanked him to the ground. One of the balls passed close enough to ruffle his hair. Good job it hadn’t been a fireball, or I’d be owing him a haircut right about now. I knew one thing: this wasn’t working.

  I reached deep inside myself for whatever power I had left. I was exhausted from protecting Johnson, and from the offensive combat magic assessment, but I wasn’t done. Not yet. Not in front of Killian. Not in front of Elias.

  I closed my mind around my power, and rose to my feet, my hands held loosely, palms forward, at my sides. I’d done this before; I could do it again.

  Fire burst from one hand, and air the other, and immediately started to wrap themselves around me. I gritted my teeth and pushed them further out, so that the firestorm’s eye encased both me and Johnson. I heard him gasp.

  “What is that?”

  “Don’t distract me,” I said, not unclenching my jaws, “or we’ll both be marshmallows.”

  He fell utterly silent, and all I could hear was the fire whipping around us, and the hum of magic in my ears. An airball crashed into the firestorm and zipped harmlessly away, zigzagging around the shield. Another joined it, and another, and my fireshield held, bouncing them all away. Clear liquid splashed across the fiery barrier – a waterball, for sure – but the flames’ heat devoured it. The thuds and crashes and splashes came so often and fast that I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold. Each one zapped my energy, until I was swaying on my feet.

  And then, above the noise, I heard,

  “Time.”

  The crashing and thudding stopped, and I let out my breath and released the firestorm. It burned to nothing in an instant, leaving me standing in the circle’s centre, and Johnson crouching at my back, both untouched.

  Killian ran a grudging eye over me, and dipped his chin in a curt nod.

  “Not bad, Eldridge,” he said. “Maybe I underestimated you.”

  *

  I didn’t stick around to see if any more miracles were about to happen, because I figured one more outlandish revelation might just shatter the laws of physics.

  Instead, I thanked Killian, nodded to Elias, and wished Johnson luck with his next protector, then ducked out of the roo
m. I wasn’t even sure where I was headed until I reached the academy’s door and stepped outside into the sunlit grounds. And then I knew exactly where I was going.

  It wasn’t like Dragondale here – we wouldn’t have to wait days to find out if we’d passed our assessments. Elias would assemble all the trainees this evening at dinner in the canteen, and results would be handed out then. The instructors must have been working double time to get all the assessments graded in time. It wasn’t like Dragondale in another way, too, I knew, anxiety churning in my gut. There were no second chances. If I failed, I’d be out, no coming back.

  I squared my jaw and pushed the thought aside. There was nothing I could do about it now and stressing over it wasn’t going to make my results any better. Besides, I had more important things on my mind. Well, just one, really.

  I turned a corner in the track, and a neat line of post and rail fences came into view. Beyond them, the multihued herd milled about, grooming each other and bathing in the late afternoon sun.

  One head came up and quirked to one side as its eyes fixed on me. The sun picked out the gold trim to his black feathers, and for a long moment, he froze, one claw raised, staring at me.

  I hesitated. What if I’d been wrong? What if it hadn’t been Malaika – or the curse – that had kept him away? What if he just didn’t… didn’t like me anymore?

  He let out an ear-splitting screech and I winced, clamping my hands on either side of my head. When I looked up again, the ton and a half gryff was racing across the field. Towards me. Not away from. Towards.

  My lips split into a wide smile, and he skidded to a halt right in front of me, stopping only inches short of flattening me. He screeched again, then butted me with his curved beak. I chuckled and reached out to scratch him behind one ear.

  “I know,” I whispered. “I missed you, too.”

  One feathered ear twitched, and he eyeballed the space beside me, then clacked his beak softy in reprisal. His meaning couldn’t have been any clearer if he’d developed the power of human speech and said, Well, you shouldn’t have let that spirit follow you around, then.

  “I didn’t know,” I said softly. “I just thought it was me you didn’t like.”

  He butted me in the chest again and I staggered back a half step. I chuckled.

  “Yeah, alright, maybe I should have known better. But hey, how was I supposed to know the ton-and-a-half of gryff stallion was afraid of a little familiar?”

  He shook out his head, his feathers ruffling for a moment and then lying flat against his neck again. Then, he dropped into a bow, lifting one leg up to form a platform. I grinned at him, and my heart swelled.

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “Lyssa, where have you been?” Kyle hissed as I hurried into the canteen and grabbed a seat with my two friends.

  “And what happened to your hair?” Zara asked, running an appraising eye over me.

  “Uh…” I made an effort to flatten my hair, but it was a doomed attempted. Instead, I settled for trying to brush the worst of the feathers and dust from my jeans. My lack of success didn’t do a thing to dampen my grin. Zara smiled.

  “How was the reunion?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but before I could get a word out, someone at the front of the packed canteen cleared their throat. I jerked my eyes up to see Elias, and the joy in my stomach turned to butterflies. This was it.

  “Good evening, everyone,” he said, and the rest of the chatter in the room died down. “I’m sure you’re all anxious for your results, so I’ll keep this brief. You’ll each receive your envelopes shortly. As you know, at Krakenvale, we take only the best. If your results are written on black bordered card, then you have failed your assessments, and will unfortunately no longer be a trainee at this academy. You will be required to attend a debrief this weekend, and I will do what I can to assist you in transitioning into other careers. The rest of you have a six-week break. Stay fit, recharge your energies – and your bank balances – and I’ll see you back here to step up your training in September.”

  He handed bundles of envelopes to the half dozen instructors standing beside him, and they worked their way round the tables, sorting through their stacks and handing them out. I was starting to get unpleasant Dragondale flashbacks. Except there were no second chances at Krakenvale.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” I muttered, slumping forward over the table.

  “There’s no room for weakness here, Lyssa,” a voice growled from above me. An envelope thumped onto the table in front of my eyes. “Unless you’re going to produce another performance like you did in my assessment, perhaps you should do us all a favour, and leave.”

  I jerked myself upright as Killian stalked away, leaving my two friends staring slack-jawed in his wake. Kyle recovered first.

  “What was all that about?” he asked.

  “And since when does he use your actual name?” Zara added warily.

  “Trust me,” I said, snatching up my envelope, “You don’t want to know.”

  “Go on, then,” Zara said, nodding to the envelope. “Open it.”

  “Uh… you first?”

  She rolled her eyes, but picked up her envelope with a shrug and ripped it open.

  “Well?” I asked, craning my neck for a glimpse.

  “Well,” she said, scanning it, and then exhaled heavily. My smile faltered, and she continued mournfully, “I’m stuck here for another year.” Her grin returned. “All passes.”

  I slapped her on the shoulder with my envelope.

  “Don’t do that! You had me worried for a moment.”

  “Everything gets you worried,” she said. “Like checking your own results, for instance.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m checking. Right after Kyle.”

  “You know you’re just prolonging the agony, right?”

  “It’s alright for you two – you actually had time to study.”

  “Time, yeah,” Zara agreed. “Inclination, not too much. If I passed, how hard can it really be? Not that Mr I-Study-For-An-Hour-Before-Class-Every-Day has anything to worry about.”

  “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with applying yourself,” Kyle said, opening his envelope like it was made of crystal, not card, and sliding his results from within. A quiet, satisfied smile flitted across his lips. I groaned. They were right. I had just prolonged the agony. There was no more putting it off. I was either still a trainee enforcer… or I wasn’t.

  I tried to stop my hands from trembling as I unsealed my envelope and plucked out the results sheet. I scanned it, top to bottom, left to right, then narrowed my eyes and stared my accusation at it.

  “Well?” Kyle said.

  “Are you going to put us out of our misery?”

  “Uh….” I stared at it a moment longer, and blinked. The words didn’t change their mind. “I passed.”

  “Then why aren’t you smiling?”

  Yeah, that was a good question. A grin erupted on my face before I could figure out the answer.

  “I really passed! We all passed. We’re coming back next year.”

  Not everyone around us was celebrating. Less than half the druids who came to Krakenvale made it all the way through, and more than a few people I knew were commiserating. I couldn’t help but notice Xavier wasn’t amongst them. Shame.

  My eyes roved the hall, and I caught Paisley – on her own, as usual – looking my way. One side of her mouth lifted into a half smile, and she dipped her chin at me. Next year, I was going to work harder at convincing her to give up her solitude. She hadn’t been a loner before she’d been bitten, and she didn’t have to be on her own now. If only I could convince her of that. But that was a problem for next year. Now was a time for celebrating. I returned her smile and lifted my glass to her.

  “So,” Zara said, leaning back in her chair. “Six whole weeks to ourselves. What are you going to do?”

  “Work on my fitness,” Kyle said immedia
tely. Zara frowned.

  “Yeah, that sounds like hell. And a good idea. Now that I’m not chasing round cleaning up Lyssa’s messes, I’m going to have to do something to keep fit.”

  “Hey! I’m not– Well, yeah, okay, maybe I am a bit of a troublemaker. But not on purpose.”

  “Own it, sister.” Zara grinned, and then her eyes tracked up to something behind me. I twisted round to find Ryder standing by our table.

  “Hey, Lyssa,” he said. “Sorry to interrupt.”

  “You’re not,” I said. “Unless you count interrupting these two giving me a hard time.”

  Zara shot me a ‘who, me?’ look, and I shook my head with a smile.

  “I was just wondering what your plans were for Stormclaw while we’re on our break.”

  And just like that, my grin evaporated. Krakenvale wasn’t like Dragondale – there were no staff assigned to look after the gryffs when the trainees were away. And it wasn’t like I could take Stormclaw back to mine and Kelsey’s two-bed flat.

  I became aware of Ryder’s eyes searching my face.

  “Does that mean you’re keeping him here?” he ventured. “With the rest of the herd?”

  “Wait, the other gryffs are staying?”

  “Some of them. Well, if we can find someone to come in and look after them.”

  It took me a moment to process his meaning.

  “Me? You want me to come in and look after them? Is that even allowed?”

  “Sure. The academy’s never completely deserted – it gets used for refresher training for qualified enforcers during our break – so no-one will have an issue with you portalling in and out. I mean, we’d pay you, of course. And it’d give you a chance to bring Stormclaw back into training.”

  “Training? For what?” I dropped my gaze down to the tabletop. “It’s not like I’m on the team.”

  “Says who? I’m holding try-outs in our first week back. Ride Stormclaw like you did this afternoon, and Xavier won’t stand a chance.”