The New Improved Sorceress

by Sara Hanover

“Illusion?”

  “Her katana seemed real. I think she’d have taken off my head. I know she tried.”

  “Hmmm. What did you do?”

  “Brought up a shield. Solid. I actually held it in my hands, like the real thing, and I could use it like you taught me. I took her head off with the edge.”

  “Did you now?”

  “It felt and sounded like it.”

  “Excellent. That news makes me feel a bit better about our prospects searching for the Eye of Nimora. Not the attack but your defense.” He rotated about on the stair.

  “Will she come back again?”

  “Likely. And just as angry, no doubt. I couldn’t tell you for certain without seeing the materialization. The supernatural being what it is, as such.”

  “Do you think Malender captured her spirit?”

  “Could very well be. He was there, was he not? That night at the country club when you faced the two of them.”

  “Yes.”

  “And Joanna and her father had tried to gain enough power to vanquish him?”

  “That seemed to be their game plan.”

  “There are other options, but it seems most logical it would have been Malender, displeased with their attempts to supplant him. Then he will have taken steps, not only to stop them, but to make an example of them.”

  I thought about it. “Ouch.”

  “Indeed. Let that be a lesson for you. Always be very circumspect about your allies and your enemies.”

  I made a note before adding, “That’s not all.”

  He raised an eyebrow at me now. “More?”

  I decided not to tell him about Malender that same night, so I went with option two. “Germanigold made an appearance at the house. By projection.”

  That staggered him. For a moment, I thought he was going to plop back down on the steps. “Goldie?”

  “That’s what she said, and although her wings seemed pinned back, they were golden-ish by moonlight. She didn’t have use of them.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “What was she doing there?”

  “Looking for you. I think if she’d found you, there might have been a problem because she seemed very upset about Mortimer.”

  “It was her sister who killed him.”

  “I don’t think that was the point.”

  He gestured impatiently. “I disagree. If she’d come to curse me or take her vengeance, her actions would be entirely misplaced.”

  “He had asked you for help.”

  “And I refused it for a very good reason. I loved Mortimer like a brother, but he did not always hold the best of judgment. He should never have married her.”

  “But he loved her!”

  “Precisely. He put her in mortal danger when they joined. It would have been better for all if they had merely loved discreetly.”

  I tried to take that in. “Hiram seemed to think the marriage good for both tribes.”

  “He would be one of the few thinking that. And witness the disaster occurring now. I rest my case.” He jabbed his pipe at the air. A long moment of silence fell between us. “Was that all you talked about? You said her wings seemed pinned. That’s not usual for a harpy.”

  “I know. She didn’t seem to be all there, even though Scout perceived her and growled a lot. She was talking to me when someone or something yanked her away suddenly.”

  “She disappeared on you?”

  I explained, “She wasn’t really there in the first place.”

  “She’s still being held, then. It would have taken quite an effort for her to project. I didn’t think she had that much strength in that kind of power. Interesting.”

  “I told her we were looking for her.”

  “Pity. We could have used the element of surprise.”

  I blinked. “Wouldn’t you like to know if someone were coming for you if you were being held against your will?”

  “We don’t know that she is.”

  “She told me so! And she got pulled away.”

  “And you’ve never in your life been lied to?”

  “Oh, come on, Professor. That happens all the time.”

  “Sadly, it does.” The corner of his mouth quirked a little. “What I mean to say is that she might have been abducted and then joined with her takers and then changed positions yet again, regretting a rash decision.”

  “Right.”

  “It happens. Look at Remy.”

  “Oh.” Now my mouth pulled unhappily. “Maybe she didn’t trust the Society.”

  “Very wise of both Remy and Germanigold if they don’t.”

  “Do you trust the Society?”

  “Do you see me marching in and saying, ‘I surrender and I need your aid?’ Never would I ever, as you might say.”

  I laughed softly. “You’re catching on.”

  “Slang. It will be the death of any near immortal trying to blend in. That, and computer identification. We are preparing, you know, to hide ourselves once the AIs take over.”

  “And that’s another thing.” I got up, tired of craning my neck to look at him. “Germanigold says a judge has her.”

  “A judge.” He paused. “A Society judge?” He shook his head vigorously. “Then that’s another matter altogether. You’ll call Hiram tomorrow and tell him you cannot look for the Eye. He’ll have to hire someone else. Don’t worry about Hiram; there will always be someone foolish enough to do anything for money.”

  I avoided the pipe as he jabbed it toward me. “I promised.”

  “You can’t keep a promise if you’re dead.”

  “Dead?”

  “Does Remy still live? Not that we know.”

  “But Joanna and her father killed her, not anyone in the Society.”

  “If you wish to believe that they thought about going after Malender on their own, and that they were strong enough to do it and succeed, then you haven’t been listening to what I’ve been trying to teach you. They were likely manipulated, and for decades. Tessa, like any structure or organization holding great power, there is also considerable corruption. And neither you nor I have the ability to weed it out. Not at the moment, and possibly never.”

  “What about Carter?”

  The professor’s eyes narrowed as he considered. “Carter is a shrewd young man. He can take care of himself.” He started upstairs. “Tomorrow, you’ll tell Hiram our decision.”

  I smiled up at him. I would do no such thing.

  Besides, I had classes and practice.

  * * *

  • • •

  I miss Homeroom. At our high school, it started the day as a beginner class. You could wake up, finish your coffee or toaster tart, trade homework, and listen to the news of the day. In college, as it should be, you’re on your own. Hopefully, you’ve learned enough by then to survive. Evelyn found me wandering the edge of campus, wondering if I really wanted to go to class, and how to crash a Society of magic users, and grabbed me by the elbow. My thoughts staggered to a halt.

  “Where have you been?”

  “Usually, you can find me at home on the weekends. Y’all know, doing laundry and projects and helping around the house. Oh, and I celebrated my birthday Saturday. You might remember that because you sort of took me to the movie.”

  “Phone.”

  “Wasn’t near one.” On purpose, actually, because I didn’t want to hear about her evening with Dean the bad boy. Really didn’t want to hear about it.

  “Tessa, you can’t ghost me now. I need to talk to you.”

  Seriously? I didn’t want to hear details. Plus I had this momentary thought that she had no idea about ghosting, and I ought to show her one of these days, but I decided against it. The news that my long-missing father was alive, after all, but only barely, might not be
understood. I needed a distraction.

  Fishing my car keys out of my pocket, I dangled them in front of Evelyn’s perfect nose. “Guess what I got.”

  “OMG. A car? What kind? What color?” She grabbed the key ring and her extreme excitement bled away. “This is not a keyless remote.”

  “No, it’s an older car.”

  “Oh.”

  “But it’s red. Ish. Faded a little but pretty red. No rust. New tires. And, it’s all mine. It should get me wherever I want to go.”

  She dropped the keys back in my hand. “If you ever go anywhere!” Evelyn nudged me with a tiny laugh, so her words wouldn’t sting too much. That’s my girl.

  The loudspeaker came on. “Tessa Andrews, report to campus security.”

  We looked at each other.

  “What have you done?”

  I held my hands up. “Nothing, I swear.”

  “Go, go.” She pointed. “I’ll see you later.”

  We shared English, but I, on the other hand, took chemistry to try and have some freaking idea of what the professor talked about when he discussed his version of alchemy, not that I expected anyone would ever turn lead into gold. Maybe security wanted me because I’d parked in the wrong place? Or maybe I’d downloaded the wrong permit off the Internet last night.

  Thinking of the professor and alchemy, I felt fairly certain he wasn’t calling to see if I’d contacted Hiram yet and given up the job. At this point, the only plan I could come up with involved getting in neck-deep and hoping the others would come wading in to help me out of any trouble I might be in, since he would insist on backing out. Not a good plan, a few rough spots here and there—like maybe getting imprisoned right along with Goldie—but I thought it workable. The hardest part of it would be getting it implemented without getting stopped immediately.

  That’s why helping Mrs. Sherman would be a great smokescreen. It needed to be done, and as soon as possible, and it would shield the rest of my movements. If that didn’t work, then we had getting my dad out of the ghost zone successfully. I’d bury him in pleadings and research.

  The professor would never know what hit him.

  I headed to the security office.

  CHAPTER NINE

  SOMETHING WICKED. OR ROTTEN. OR BOTH.

  A COUPLE OF suits waited for me as Norma, the senior secretary, waved me into the administration office as campus police delivered me. The so-called perp walk had been a little awkward, and I still had no idea what I might have done. The impulse to back out and run washed over me, and curiosity tried to cancel it out. Why would anyone use security to get me to Administration, unless they wanted to be certain I’d respond to a summons? Who were these two impeccably dressed people and what branch of law enforcement did they represent? The woman wore her hair glossed back into a French knot, her trousers creased, dark stockings covering her ankles, and her shoes so modest in height I almost wondered what the point was in wearing heels. The man looked a little sleeker than she did in what I felt sure Evelyn could identify as Armani, although he wore his Maui Jim sunglasses perched on top of his head, and he didn’t have a handkerchief popping out of his chest pocket. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the handle of a Glock did, frankly. And they both looked like Northerners. From DC, if I could guess.

  Administrative Dean Moreno beamed at me. “Come in, Tessa.” He beckoned a welcoming hand at me, indicating for me to take a chair. He occupied the back of the desk, nearly as wide as he was, and behind him a small curio cabinet held the pennant of his own college and the trophies his team had won in football, and an imposing picture of him as a linebacker. I think he kept them not only for the memories but as a warning he could hold a student accountable if necessary.

  He meant for me to sit down in my chair, but I really wanted to wield it like an old-fashioned lion tamer. I perched on it cautiously, feet gathered under me, calculating where and how fast I could run. And if I might need the maelstrom stone as I did. By the pricking of my thumbs, to paraphrase both Shakespeare and Ray Bradbury, something wicked looked my way. Again, I regretted not wearing my bracers. I would have to remedy that, and soon.

  “Good morning,” the male suit intoned. “I’m Agent Danbury and this is Agent Naziz.”

  “Agents of what?”

  Dean Moreno looked appalled for a fleeting second. He forced his smile to return. “Forgive the caution; Tessa has been through some traumatic times. Tessa, your academic record and test scores have drawn some attention and, it looks like, the offer of an internship.”

  “My test scores?”

  He tapped a folder on his desk. “This first quarter.”

  They didn’t look like scouts from a major university nor were recruiters usually titled “Agent.” Since my mother taught locally, I had a fairly good idea what academia looked like, and these two definitely did not fit the mold. And since when did anyone scout off first semester grades? I decided to play, anyway.

  “So you’re from MIT or Stanford?” I looked from Danbury to Naziz.

  “Not exactly. We’re from a private university which has a campus on the edge of Richmond, and from time to time, we take in interns to work in our offices and library. It’s a great opportunity for higher education, and provides a modest income as well.”

  Dean Moreno folded his large, fleshy hands. “Sounds promising.”

  “Oh, more than that,” Agent Naziz offered. “We have international connections that will reflect on her resume in the future.” Her eyes sparkled gleefully in tandem with her smile.

  If I had a future. The maelstrom warmed a bit inside my glove, but whether it woke on its own or my nerves alerted it, I couldn’t guess. “I’m a bit confused. Do I take a class on your campus or assist a professor or do administrative work?”

  “A bit of all three. Twelve to twenty hours a week, depending on how ambitious you feel.”

  “What sorts of classes are available?”

  “Anything you might be interested in. We do suggest you study courses that might not be conventionally available at this college level, to round out your education.” Agent Danbury leaned forward, his posture conveying keen interest and ambition of his own. They wanted me at their private university, but I couldn’t figure out why. Nor how they’d found out about my so-called great scores. I knew I hadn’t earned a perfect on the SATs or any of the other tests given in high school. Good, but not perfect; that was my general performance level. Nor had we gotten far enough into field hockey season for them to be scouting me.

  Or perhaps they sensed the maelstrom stone as strongly as it sensed them. I fought to keep from curling my hand shut as if I could hide it away, wishing I had the professor or Carter or even Steptoe whispering advice in my ear. I realized everyone waited in silence for me to say something. I had the feeling I sat in the sales office at a used car store where the offer was today, and today only. “An interesting offer. Have you got brochures I can take home for my mother or more information on your website? I discuss everything with her.”

  “We don’t extend an internship like this to just anyone,” Agent Naziz said crisply. “It would be a mistake to turn it down without thinking about it.”

  “Oh, I’m not turning you down. I just don’t know about it. Committing for a few quarters seems like a big step that I don’t want to take without my mom. And what if it interferes with my team practice and schedule?”

  Danbury pushed out of his chair and onto his feet. He put his hand out for a shake, his left hand, and he gripped mine tightly. No doubt he felt the stone in my palm, glove or not, and he looked into my face with a confident expression. “I think, when you investigate and consider us, you’ll make the right decision. We can do a lot for you, Miss Andrews, and your family.”

  He waited at the office doorway while Agent Naziz pulled a few colorful pamphlets from her purse and handed them to me. She also shook, but conventionally r
ight-handed, and smiled. “I look forward to seeing you. We can arrange a campus visit whenever you want, to help in your decision.” She paused as she joined Danbury. “Oh. And you might be interested to know the hourly wage,” and she named a figure well above the national minimum wage. It staggered both me and Moreno as the two suits left his office.

  He managed another beaming smile at me. “Well. How about that?”

  “I don’t know,” I told him frankly. “How did they learn about me?”

  “Nobody said a word here, but I know the national grading company that handles the scores occasionally puts out advance word about exceptional students. You might remember some of the essays you did? The optional work?”

  That set off a little light bulb. I’d had a packet of forms that few other students had gotten, but I thought maybe my mom’s school had brought a special set for me because they did offer discounted rates for family and dropped all the way down to free if the employee had tenure or other qualifications. I’d processed them and promptly forgotten about them, graduating high school in January and soldiering onto community college last spring, when everything odd began happening in my life courtesy of the professor and his dilemma.

  Looked like I’d been wrong about her university, though. These two, wherever they acted for, most certainly did not represent her school. I studied my brochure as I gathered my backpack and made ready to leave.

  Red-brick and ivy-covered buildings. Quaint sidewalk pathways throughout the campus. Smiling students. A few professor types in long black robes in the background, no doubt going to classrooms—hey. Wait a minute.

  Nobody at Mom’s workplace wore robes except for graduation services twice a year. In fact, most of them dressed little differently from the students, my mother being an exception as she continually tried to make a good impression on the staff.

  What was this place?

  I flipped the pamphlet over. The page reflected blankly up at me.

  “Well,” Moreno muttered. “What do you think?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Keep an open mind, Tessa. Now, if you don’t mind, you’ve got classes and I have another appointment.”