WarMage: Unexpected (The Never Ending War Book 1)

by Martha Carr

  “Those disappearances. You’re buying into all the terrible stories out there.”

  “You have a theory?”

  Henry leaned closer to Raven and muttered, “We’ll be late. You keep doing this, and I’m walking to school on my own tomorrow.”

  Harriet sighed as she picked up the bucket, “Sure do. About fifteen, no twenty, years ago—yeah, about the time my first grandchild was born. No, it was when I took that long trip to Brighton—they attacked the city.”

  “Ma’am, we’re going to have to move along,” Henry pleaded. Raven rolled her eyes and grabbed Henry’s hand, dragging him over to Mrs. Easton’s stoop.

  “What am I supposed to not believe?”

  “Okay, I’ll play along,” whispered Henry. “Ma’am, there are no records of any attack that recent. All the battles and wars that were fought happened a long time ago.”

  She scoffed. “What are they teaching you kids? Nobody bothered to remember it.” She held out her hand, and a flying beetle with a shiny hard maroon shell landed on her finger.

  Henry mouthed, “A familiar,” his eyes wide.

  “There was a pack of bandits that lived to the west of us. Horrible, horrible people. Ruthless. Scum of the earth.”

  “Okay, and?” Raven looked around, growing impatient.

  “Raven! I knew I’d find you two.” Murphy came around the fountain, strands of blonde hair stuck to her face. “I had to run most of the way,” she said, breathing hard as she caught up to them at the stoop. “What are you…”

  Mrs. Easton ignored the girl, waving her arms. The beetle extended its wings and buzzed around her head, alighting again on the top of her scarf. Henry watched, transfixed.

  “They were roaming around, stealing land from people,” she shouted.

  Murphy looked from Raven to Henry. “Did something happen?” Murphy’s cat leapt onto the edge of the fountain, keeping its distance from everyone else.

  “Not yet, but I’m hoping,” said Henry. “Look! A tiny familiar!”

  Raven nudged him while giving Murphy a wave. “Are you okay?” she asked her new friend.

  “Yeah, I was hoping we could all walk together.”

  “They tried to steal land in Brighton. Yes, sir!” Mrs. Easton was lost in her story. “Got pretty far, too. Took over two parcels of land, the Fuller homestead and the Zeke Chicken Ranch.”

  The beetle spun in a circle, hovering in one place, leaving a coppery trail of light. “Come on, let’s go inside,” said Mrs. Easton. The beetle fluttered its wings, folding them in as it entered the lock on her door, pushing the tumblers and opening the door.

  “What? That is amazing! I didn’t know insects could be familiars! There are hundreds of possibilities!” Henry looked around for anything crawling or buzzing.

  “Focus over here, bug boy.” Raven clapped her hands in front of Henry’s face.

  “What is happening?” asked Murphy, looking at the ground for insects and back at the shouting woman. Passersby glanced at Mrs. Easton but rolled their eyes and kept walking.

  Raven noticed, and her shoulders dropped. Henry was right. “I’ve never heard of those landowners, have you?” asked Raven, looking at her friends. Murphy and Henry shook their heads.

  “Of course, you haven’t. Those damn bandits came in here, killed the families, and took over their land. Shame, too. The Zeke family had been in Brighton for a few generations. Everyone’s gone now. You can find their headstones in the city grave near the back. I try to pull the weeds from time to time.”

  “What did they do with the land?” Henry asked, glancing in the academy’s direction. Murphy tugged his sleeve. “We need to get going.”

  “They tried to charge a lot of money for it. Held it hostage. But they couldn’t raise a dandelion without killing it. No skills. No talent. No upbringing. It all went to seed. It’s open prairie now.”

  “Do you think the bandits are back?” Raven waved the paper in her hand.

  “What else could it be? I don’t believe in bogeymen, but thieves and killers are real.”

  “Brighton is a peaceful little city where nothing happens. That’s all,” said Henry. “We would have noticed strangers in town.”

  “Maybe you’re right.” Raven took a few steps away from the old woman. She was already heading back inside, still yelling at no one in particular.

  “I’m telling you, I’m right. Murphy!” Henry slung an arm around her shoulder and gathered her closer, throwing his other arm around Raven. “Two of my favorite people to walk me to school. Day’s starting off right!”

  “Only if we get to school in the next few minutes,” said Murphy. “What was that about?”

  “Conspiracy theories to go with these fliers.” Raven held up the flier of a farmhand who’d gone missing.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Raven slid behind the old wooden desk with its ornate metal frame, placed her hands flat on the surface, and peered straight ahead. She breathed hard from dashing up the circular stone steps, and her face was flushed. Murphy slid next to her, a worried look on her face as she pushed her braids behind her shoulders. Her cat wove between her feet, then darted off to chase something moving in the corner.

  “Hope that’s not someone’s gerbil familiar,” muttered Henry as he passed Raven, his head down.

  “Everyone can still see you,” said Raven, punching his shoulder.

  “We are so late,” hissed Murphy, leaning over from her desk. Jenny was sitting behind her and patted her on the shoulder. Bella was on Raven’s other side and gave her a nod and an amused smile as she stuck her chin out.

  Raven turned her head away and looked out the window. She could just see the tops of the barns and the rusted weathervane of stars and moons slowly turning.

  Henry had found a seat in the back and was huddling with his friends, slouched in his seat. Raven glanced at him, and he shook his head, grimaced, and sunk lower.

  Professor Bixby, a mage as round as she was short, fussed with the collar of her black robe with one hand and pushed her frizzy brown hair back onto the top of her head with the other. The mound of hair was held in place by a dry fountain pen.

  “Nope, not working,” she muttered, turning in a circle like that would help. The professor gave up, shook her hands in frustration, and clapped twice. “Who’s ready to start?” She glanced at Murphy and Raven and pursed her lips but made no comment.

  Eager hands shot up. Bella shouted, “I am.”

  Raven resisted rolling her eyes and stared at the initials carved all over the top of the desk. Some were faded from years of hands rubbing them.

  “Welcome to the History of Magic 101, which is a required course for all first-year students at Fowler. You can’t know where you’re going if you don’t know your roots.” The teacher’s voice was high-pitched, and she sang a lot of her words. “Who knows the history of magic in Brighton?”

  Raven could see Bella’s hand waving in the air out the corner of her eye. She raised her own and sat up straighter.

  “Miss Alby, you came late, but you came to play!”

  Raven’s face reddened and she slowly lowered her hand, not looking to either side of her. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Please, enlighten us,” sang the professor.

  “The city was founded five hundred years ago by a large group of witches and wizards traveling from the larger city of Wellington located at the center of the trading routes on the other side of the mountains and past the last of the ancient trees. They settled here and established a new kingdom devoted to the safe use of magic.”

  Professor Bixby tilted her head and gave Raven a smile. “You did your homework.” She tapped Raven’s desk with her finger. “Who in this classroom is related to one of the founding families?”

  Hands shot up all around the room, including Raven Alby’s. Her grandfather had told her the stories a thousand times when she was small.

  “Both your parents were from lines of powerful mages, right?” The professor
gave her an encouraging smile, but Raven froze.

  “She wants to be a dragonrider,” said Bella evenly.

  “What? But you’re a mage in training.”

  Raven did her best not to wince. She glanced at Bella, narrowing her eyes. She returned her gaze to the vertically-challenged professor, who stood right at her eye level. “I want to be able to choose,” Raven clarified.

  The professor’s forehead wrinkled and she fussed with the pen in her hair, sending a cascade of fluffy frizz around her head like a coppery brown halo. “But we have a system, and it’s been working rather well for a very long time. It’s well known that magic is in your blood, passed down through generations, from your parents and grandparents to you.”

  “But don’t we have any choices?”

  Raven recognized Henry’s voice from the back of the room and lifted her chin. He’s ditching his resolution to hide to stand up for me.

  “I mean, who wants to know what they have to be from the moment they’re born?” he asked.

  Professor Bixby waved a finger at him. “The blood never lies,” she sang. “But over time, people often do. Has anyone heard of the family tree spell? Thank you, Miss Kinsley, can you tell the others?”

  Elizabeth pushed her dark bangs out of her eyes, revealing a dark eyebrow against her pale skin as she rose out of her seat to give her answer. Her bat was hanging just underneath her desk, sleeping.

  Raven turned around in her seat to get a better look at Elizabeth and saw Henry shudder and shake his head. She covered her mouth to stop from laughing.

  Elizabeth held out her finger, a smile at the corners of her mouth. “It’s an old spell that takes a drop of blood on a piece of parchment that will build a family tree and reveal everything.”

  “Precisely! And it’s our project for today.” She pointed to the stack of parchment on her desk. “Get a piece of parchment and find a partner.” She clapped her hands, shouting, “Lux et litteris!” A line of sparkling gold appeared in the air, swirling around the students.

  The professor giggled with delight, scooping up her hair and doing her best to secure it again. “Miss Alby, you can pair up with Miss Chase. Two strong mages from two old families. It could be fun to see if there’s anywhere your lines cross. Maybe you’re distant cousins.”

  Both girls’ eyes widened, and they looked at each other surprised. Bella began choking as Jenny thumped her on the back. Henry breezed by Raven, a smile on his face as he winked at her.

  Raven sighed and went to get the parchment, spreading it across her desk. Bella stood next to her, still sputtering about not being an Alby.

  “Is everyone ready? Hold out a finger over your parchment and repeat this spell.”

  Raven held out her finger and saw Bella’s hand shaking. She looked at her face and saw the worry as Bella chewed her lower lip.

  Raven let out a sigh and thought about Leander. It doesn’t have to be about me.

  She took Bella’s free hand and smiled at her. Bella looked confused and tried to pull her hand away, but Raven held tight. She leaned close and whispered, “I won’t tell anyone,” surprising Bella once again.

  “Let this blood nourish the roots and speak for the generations. Familiae arbor revelatum est!”

  Raven repeated the words carefully and felt a prick in her finger. A large, round drop of deep-red blood appeared and dripped onto the parchment below. Instantly, it spread out, quickly creeping through the texture of the skin, creating lines and zipping from right to left. Names appeared, connected by more feathery lines with descriptions printed under each.

  Distracted, Raven let go of Bella’s hand and leaned closer, surprised to see so many names she had never heard before. Finally, near the bottom of the paper, she saw her mother’s name. Tears shone in Raven’s eyes as she waited to see “mage” under her name.

  War Mage.

  Raven drew back with a gasp.

  What does that mean?

  “What did you find? Are we related?” Bella looked at Raven’s sheet and saw the words under Sarah Alby. “Mage!” She straightened and looked at Raven, one hand on her hip. “Would you look at that? Professor Bixby is right. It’s in our blood. You were meant to be a powerful mage, not a dragonrider.”

  Raven was about to answer when there was a loud commotion from the clot of boys near the back of the room.

  “What is this? It says I’m related to a gnome!” Rory Davidian was looking around the room, his head turning in every direction. Students crowded around his desk, wanting a better look.

  Professor Bixby gave a loud tsk and clapped her hands. “Clear the way! Did you add any words into the spell? No? Well, it’s only a third cousin. I imagine you’ll be good if we ever get lost in a cave.”

  Raven stayed back, staring at the parchment in front of her and holding it closer to read the words more carefully.

  Sarah Alby. Mage.

  Is my fate written in my blood? No, my grandfather believes in me.

  Raven stumbled out of the class, her head swimming with questions. She wanted to go home and find her grandfather, but there were more classes. And Leander. Training. I have to go.

  Henry caught up with her in the winding corridor, carrying his parchment rolled up under his arm. Maxwell sat calmly on his shoulder. The long, forked tongue flicking at a fly buzzing near Henry’s face. “Did you see what my tree said? A lot of the men in my line were great hunters! I’m more badass than I realized!”

  He unrolled the parchment, blocking the narrow hall as students ducked under it to get past him and hurry to the next class. Henry held his chart up in front of Raven. “Do you see it?”

  “It would be hard to miss. It says ‘archer’ under most of them. Have you ever fired an arrow?”

  “No, Dad was always worried I’d shoot myself or hit my brother. I trip a lot.”

  “You’re pretty good with that slingshot. You should give it a try.”

  “Maybe this will convince Professor Fellows to let me handle weapons. He’s got me in swordplay with a wooden sword.” He shook his head. “That is not impressing anyone.”

  “Like Jenny.”

  “Like anyone.” He rolled up the parchment and put it back under his arm as they headed down the hall. “Everyone is talking about what yours said, but mostly because it said ‘mage,’ and you keep saying something about a dragon. Okay, just Bella and that upperclassman, Daniel Smith, were talking. You know, the one with the flying beanbag? He’s got a thing for you. Talks about you constantly like I never met you even though he knows I’ve known you your whole life.”

  “Why is that my one choice?”

  “Raven, it’s literally written in blood. Mage.”

  “No, if there was no chance, my grandfather would have stopped me. He would have said that it was impossible.”

  “Did you hear what I said? Daniel Smith. Even Bella loses the power of speech around him. I didn’t know that was possible without a spell.”

  They took the circular staircase back down, Raven running her hand along a row of the large granite blocks that held up the walls.

  “Raven, he didn’t tell you, ‘no, don’t do it. It’s a waste of time. Focus on the spells.’”

  “He said that more than once.”

  “Well, he stopped saying it, and he didn’t stop you, even after that dragon…”

  “Leander.”

  “Leander used you as his own human softball and threw you against the wall a few times. It’s like you’re teaching him about possibilities.”

  Raven was quiet as they came out through the large oak doors and turned right to head to the barns. Streams of students were passing back and forth, hurrying to the next class. Everyone heading to the barn was pulling or carrying or leading an animal.

  Rory Davidian passed them with his owl flying on ahead, a small mouse caught in its talons. “I’m not a gnome!” He snapped at some upperclassmen who jostled each other, laughing as they disappeared into the building. Rory looked from side to s
ide to see who was listening, but only ghostly pale Jacob Winters was glued to his side, as usual, a rat peering out of his jacket pocket.

  “Jacob, is that your familiar? Are you sitting near Rory and his owl?” Henry put out his finger to pet the rat’s head. The rat bared its teeth and snapped at the finger. Henry drew it back just in time to avoid puncture wounds. “Damn! Protective much?”

  The two boys snickered and headed to the barn. Raven was in no hurry to get there. “The professor will make me sit on the sidelines and watch everyone. Bella will eat it up. Maybe I can head to Moss Ranch early.”

  “You can’t start cutting classes. A certain someone is bound to notice and point it out. Starts with b and ends with h.”

  “That’s not how you spell Bella.”

  “Oh, I think it is.”

  “Henry, she’s not so bad—some of the time. I think she kind of paid me a compliment back there. She called me a powerful mage.”

  They were almost to the barn. “If you say so. Come on, you’ll live through class,” said Henry. “I’ll let you hold Maxwell.”

  “True friend.” Raven laughed. “Fine, I’ll come and watch.”

  “It’ll be good for you. Character-building.”

  “Way to sell it. Okay, okay, I said I was coming. Maybe I’ll learn what a toad can do as a familiar.”

  “You and me both. I’ve been trying to figure that out since Maxwell was a tadpole. Nothing yet. You’re lucky, dragons are easy. You can see everything they can do. Crush and incinerate.”

  “I envy your simple view of things. It’s a lot more than that,” said Raven, trailing behind the last students into the cavernous barn. The rectangular windows that ringed the barn were all propped open to let the sunlight stream in and circulate the air.

  Pens ran along one side of the barn, holding a variety of creatures, including a few smaller dragons, and on the other side, the wooden bleachers were already filled with nervous first-years trying to hold on to their familiars.