Fantastic Schools: Volume 2

by Nuttall, Christopher G.

  I wonder if Benny is going to be in class tomorrow.

  Becky R. Jones landed in San Diego after spending the first eight years of her life as an Army brat. After college she spent time in banking, building sets for television shows, mobile home park management, and aerospace before going back to school and getting a PhD in political science. That led to twenty-plus years in academia. Now, as a newly emerging fiction writer, she’s changing directions again. She blogs at https://profornery.wordpress.com and you can find her first book, Academic Magic, on Amazon. She currently lives in Philadelphia with her husband and Max the Wonder Cat.

  The Monster of Mordwin

  Morgan Newquist

  The School of Spells & War is an ongoing collection of old-fashioned sword-and-sorcery adventure stories following a wizard and warrior duo as they gallivant across the continent of Thillon. Good-humored, powerful warrior Cahan and intelligent, skilled wizard Alis work together to serve their university, by battling dragons, investigating plots against the king, hunting witches, and dealing with the ongoing threat of the ancient and mysterious Formless.

  In The Monster of Mordwin, the fourth story in this collection, Alis and Cahan visit Mordwin College, a school only for wizards, rather than a joint one between warriors and magic users. A strange monster has the school under siege, and aid from Thillon’s wandering wizard and warrior duo is sorely needed. Can Alis help defeat the monster, and even harder, control her growing feelings for Cahan in the face of his old friend and potential suitor?

  The Monster of Mordwin:

  A Story of the School of Spells and War

  Alis clung to the tree branch like a cat, too busy holding on to scream. Glowing, mossy green eyes and a gaping mouth swam beneath her. An overwhelming drive to flee gripped her, but she had nowhere else to go. Even if she dared to loosen her grip to climb higher, the branches would not support her.

  The monster beneath her bellowed. A blast of air rank with mildew hit her in the face. It smelled like a cave had vomited its stench at her. Red-brown arms, lumpy and undefined, flailed beneath her and shook her refuge.

  A tiny squeak escaped her lips, drowned out by the noise of the animate lump shaking the tree. Alis’ fingers slipped, and her chest slid forward, her body precariously twisting to the side. She couldn’t hold on much longer.

  Just when she thought her grip would give way and she’d fall into the creatures waiting arms, thunder burst overhead. Alis reflexively tightened her knees and her elbows at the deafening crack. The sky above her head grew black and lightning flashed across darkening clouds. Rain poured down on her, soaking her to the bone.

  A roar of rage exploded from the beast. Reacting to the sudden squall, the construct released the tree. After one final jerk, the violent shaking stopped. Alis readjusted her grip while she had the chance and looked down. Rain splattered onto the monster with audible plunks, leaving deep pockmarks in its skin. As she swayed to and fro on her perch, Alis watched in horror as the beast melted away before her eyes. Water oversaturated the clay forming its body. Muddy chunks slid off its face and arms, slapping loudly onto the ground at the base of the tree. Dirt skin washed away but revealed no muscles or skeleton beneath it. All but the monster’s glowing eyes dispersed, and Alis shuddered as those green pinpricks faded away too.

  She sat in the tree for several minutes longer, intently watching the sloppy remains pooling under her branch. Nothing but storm-blown grass and lashing rain moved as far as she could see. Thunder, not roars, cracked in her ears. Wiping water out of her eyes, she contemplated her next move. Normally, she’d be enjoying herself by the fire in her library. But again she’d been chosen to go off with Cahan, and again she’d agreed to go. Part of her regretted the choice – she often did in the middle of their adventures – but when it was all over, she would be glad she’d come. Her dour personality made it hard for her to live in the moment, but she could enjoy those moments later. When she was warm and cozy, not soaking wet and stranded in a tree.

  Alis had been in the adventuring game long enough to know just because she couldn’t see the mud-beast anymore didn’t mean it wasn’t there. Lightning burst in the sky again, spidering far too close for comfort over her head. What had been her refuge now put her in the storm’s line of fire.

  I can run from a monster better than I can survive a lightning strike. That thought made her decision for her. Pushing her wet blonde hair out of her face, Alis shifted her weight and balanced carefully on the branch. She tied her robe in knots around her knees, and slowly began her descent down the tree.

  Alis hadn’t realized how high up she’d scaled until now. She checked her height every couple of feet, impatient to reach the ground.

  About ten feet away from the muddy ground, her boots slid out from under her on the slippery bark. She swung forward and smacked into the tree trunk. Without the support of her feet, her hands slipped on the wet branches. Completely losing her grip, Alis slipped and slid the rest of the way down the tree, unable to catch herself but never completely falling out of the tree. She landed unceremoniously at the bottom with a splat.

  “Ugh!” she exclaimed. Her face wrinkled up in disgust as the clammy mud soaked through her leggings and saturated her clothes. At least, she hoped it was mud...or was it monster guts instead?

  Horrified, she redirected her thoughts, grasping at happy musings like tea and research and reading alone in her room.

  Happy thoughts, Alis. Happy thoughts.

  A peal of laughter reached her ears, carried on the violent storm winds. She looked up, frowning.

  Cahan stood about six feet away, cackling at her. Without the familiar sound of his laugh, she might not have recognized him. Mud coated him from head to toe, a layer of grime so thick that he looked like a miniature version of their foe.

  The sight of him, even so filthy, made her feel less alone. Her heart swelled in her chest. Cahan was the reason she was even out here, after all. Without him, she’d still be shut up in her tower, hiding away from the world. Even with that, she didn’t appreciate being laughed at. She glared at him, but her disapproval did not stop his laughter. It never did.

  Alis grumpily climbed to her feet, wrapping her arms around the tree trunk to stabilize herself. Her feet comically slid around in the mud, and she finally gave up. Holding her arms out, she slowly slid down the slightly inclined ground, coming to a stop in front of her warrior companion.

  “Let’s get to the castle,” Cahan said. He grabbed her arm to keep her steady as she slopped through the last six inches of flooded field to reach him. He left a muddy handprint on her arm. Normally she liked when he touched her; today she could have done without it. The storm still raged overhead.

  Getting to Mordwin College was easier said than done. The magical squall turned the entire field into a soupy mess of grass and mud that proved almost impossible to move across. Alis slipped and fell twice in less than five minutes. Slimy mud coated her entire body, turning her into Cahan’s smaller twin.

  Her mood continued to sour, despite Cahan’s presence, as they made slow progress across the fields. Cahan remained as cheerful and unruffled as ever, even underneath inches of mud. Lightning cracked nearby, sending a thrum of electricity across the field. The longer the storm raged, the more powerful it became. Cahan’s grip on her arm tightened, and he pulled her forward, increasing their awkward pace. Cahan’s heavy foot hit a particularly slippery wet spot. He skidded forward until both feet flew out from under him. The warrior went completely horizontal, both feet up in the air, and landed flat on his back hard enough to knock the air out of his chest.

  Alis slipped and slid another foot, her legs splaying out broadly. This time, she managed to keep her footing even though Cahan had not. A hysterical giggle burst out of her mouth before the wind carried it away. She had never seen Cahan in such an undignified state, and it was so comical that she couldn’t help herself. She tried to hold in her laughter, but it kept bubbling through as Cahan stood up. For a m
oment she feared he would be angry with her, but he laughed as well.

  He caught up with her, slapping his hand on her head, imparting a thick layer of red clay on top of her hair in retaliation. Alis laughed harder.

  More thunder rumbled overhead, reminding Alis that they had to find shelter before they drowned. Her laughter died in her throat as lightning struck the ground nearby.

  “It’s not far now!” Cahan shouted at her over the storm. She could barely hear him even though he trudged right next to her. She nodded, not even attempting a reply.

  Their destination, Mordwin College, loomed ahead. The rain obscured most of its features, reducing the castle to an ominous grey mass almost indistinguishable from the storm. Her saturated boots hit a hard spot in the ground. They’d finally found the cobblestone road leading to the school. For the first time since she’d fallen out of the tree, she found secure footing. An involuntary sigh of relief passed her lips, though no one but she could have possibly heard it.

  Mordwin coalesced out of the rain and more distinct architectural features materialized as the wizard and the warrior moved closer. In the middle of the elaborate iron gates stood the source of the storm. A swirling grey cloud spun up from a tall woman, her blue robes whirling around as she powered the tempest. Alis stopped walking, staring at the woman in awe. Weather magic was not commonly taught at Scholae, and it took a powerful and skilled wizard to control such spells. Another burst of lightning sent Alis moving again, and she and Cahan staggered forward through the arch. Huge splotches of mud sloughed off their clothes, splattering onto the wet stone path.

  The weather-wizard joined them at the front doors to the school. Her storm continued to rage without her direct attention.

  “You made it!” she said cheerfully to the pair of them.

  Alis glanced at the front doors as the wizard yanked them open. Carvings adorned the sapphire blue doors, but Alis couldn’t make them out in the low light. Their companion ushered them both inside and then closed the great doors, shutting the noise and water of the storm outside.

  Alis and Cahan stood awkwardly in the great entryway, dropping water and mud onto the clean floors. Alis shivered in the drafty atrium while their rescuer shook out her soaked robes.

  “Well, aren’t we in a state?” the woman asked. “I will show you to your rooms so you can clean up.”

  “Our bags are out there somewhere,” Alis answered miserably. She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.

  “That’s unfortunate. Miss Alis, I will take you to our quartermistress. I’m sure she can loan you one of our uniforms. And Cahan, I’ll have some clothes sent to your room. You’re about the size of our groundskeeper,” she spoke briskly now, already walking down the hallway with a clipped, professional gait.

  Alis awkwardly followed, her cheeks blushing a deeper red with every muddy step. She hated leaving such a huge mess, and tension from her embarrassment settled in her shoulder muscles.

  “Who is she?” she whispered to Cahan. The weather-controlling wizard intimidated her. Cahan hadn’t said anything about a friend who could control storms. The woman moved with such confidence and intelligence that Alis dwelled on how clumsy and fretful she was in comparison. She could never compare to that.

  Not that I’m trying to. She told herself firmly. Alis knew the rules of her station, and if there was one thing more comforting to her than Cahan, it was rules.

  “I am Enna Mordwin, and I am the Headmistress of this college,” the regal woman answered as she came to a stop. Alis blushed. She hadn’t meant for her to hear the question.

  “Here we are. Ivy will take care of you, Alis,” Headmistress Mordwin opened a door to her right and gestured for Alis to go inside. “We will meet up again in my office in thirty minutes, after we are all presentable.” Before Alis could answer, she swept away.

  Alis smiled shyly at Ivy, awkwardness radiating from her red face as she dripped a slimy puddle in the poor woman’s workshop. Ivy said little about it, however, and for that Alis was thankful. After eyeballing her for size, Ivy dug through her supply of uniforms until she found one that would fit Alis.

  She handed her a stack of clothes and sent Alis on her way to the room on the second floor to clean herself up. Alis quickly followed the directions, unwilling to make the Headmistress wait for her.

  They reconvened later in Headmistress Mordwin’s office. Cahan wore simple brown linen pants and a dark green shirt. His leather vest had been quickly cleaned and he’d donned it again. The same appeared true of his boots. Damp dark spots covered the leather of his shoes. He still had his sword buckled on his belt and looked none the worse for wear after his muddy escapade.

  Alis found herself wishing that the groundskeeper had a wife, because the pile the quartermistress handed her turned out to be one of the school uniforms. The older students just wore their own robes, so only the underschool had a uniform for her to borrow.

  Alis felt thirteen years old in the black robes embroidered with an “M” and a salamander. Beneath the robes she wore black boots and a short white tunic paired with a knee length blue skirt. A black leather belt cinched with a brass salamander completed the outfit.

  “It suits you,” Cahan commented when he saw her, smirking. Alis blushed brightly, scrunching her face up at his teasing. The uniform wore quite differently on a full-grown woman than the younger students Mordwin hosted in its halls. Her self-consciousness amused him, as it always did.

  “Oh, shut up,” she snapped. He laughed but said nothing more.

  Their banter ended when the Headmistress swept into her office, accentuating the feeling Alis was still nothing more than a schoolgirl.

  Alis could see her better here than she could in the fields. Enna Mordwin was much younger than Alis had expected—late thirties at the oldest—and quite pretty. Brown hair was smartly tied back at the nape of her neck, and dark eyebrows and brown eyes accentuated a face with a hawk-like nose too big for her face. She had a winning smile, however, and the combined effect made her look stately rather than unattractive.

  She wore robes similar to the ones Alis had been given, except blue trimmed in white to denote her position as faculty.

  “Cahan!” Enna grinned, a small spark of mischief gleaming in her dark eyes as she shook his hand.

  “You know her?” Alis asked.

  “He does!” Enna answered Alis’s question, turning to face her. Alis blushed again.

  “We grew up together,” Cahan expounded.

  Of course, they did. The Mordwins had founded Mordwin College, and they would run in the same circles as the Galerens, descendents of the kings of old Gale. Both families were older—and prouder—than the poor, farming one Alis had come from.

  “Do you know everyone?” she asked, her tone mixed annoyance and amusement.

  “It feels like it sometimes,” Cahan conceded.

  “How are your parents?” Enna continued in a friendly tone, and Cahan shrugged.

  “They are well, as always,” he answered. Did her presence make him less comfortable discussing his family with Enna? They’d spent so much time together, and still he barely spoke of them.

  If only he would trust me, Alis sighed. Perhaps someday she would learn about his relatives. But not today, apparently.

  “I just received a letter from my Mama,” Enna said, stretching out “mama” in a posh way rather than a childish one. “She is harassing me to get married again. Since I have no brothers or sisters, it is up to me to make sure the formidable Mordwin line is not lost to the ages. Or so she constantly likes to remind me. As if running this school of ours wasn’t enough.” Though the words themselves came off harshly, her tone was one of amusement. She smiled through the entire diatribe.

  Cahan chuckled.

  “She sounds like my mother,” he replied. Enna nodded in sympathy. Alis couldn’t imagine a similar situation. With a houseful of brothers and sisters and multiple nieces and nephews running about, the Tredores certainly did
n’t have a shortage of descendants.

  A mischievous smile crossed Enna’s face.

  “You could still marry me, and we could shut up both our parents.” The hint at a past engagement between them stirred curiosity in Alis’s chest. Perhaps it triggered something else a little darker, too. Alis clamped down on both feelings. What she had with Cahan had changed her life. She certainly wasn’t going to ruin it with a silly schoolgirl crush that couldn’t amount to anything.

  Thunder clapped overhead loud enough to rattle Enna’s desk, interrupting them. Lightning flashed outside the tower window so brightly it cast shadows on the stone walls.

  “My storm will not last forever,” Enna said. She turned her attention to the window. “It is the only thing that suppresses it. But I’ll flood the whole countryside if I keep summoning them, which I’m sure the farmers won’t appreciate. I fear our groundskeeper has already put out a hit on me for the destruction I’ve caused.”

  “Tell us what happened,” Cahan answered.

  Enna gestured to the seats on the other side of her desk. Alis immediately sat, still feeling like a child in trouble. Cahan noticed and smirked at her. Alis glared back.

  “A little over a month ago, our geology department observed a minor quake. We thought nothing of it at the time. They’re not uncommon here, close to the mountains,” she gestured behind her head in the vague direction of the mountain range to the north of them.

  “But within a fortnight of that first quake, there were several more, each one stronger than the last. Then they stopped, and the most terrible noises could be heard. For days, rumbling and roaring...and phrases in the old tongue. The field you crossed to get here was once a mighty Spellfield, put in place at the college’s founding. It is an amalgam of spells—shields, traps, teleportation, etc. The Spellfield has been defunct for at least a century now.” Alis listened carefully to the Headmistress’ words.