Fantastic Schools: Volume 2

by Nuttall, Christopher G.

  “Last Sunday, however, the screaming stopped. And a…” she paused, pursing her lips. “A monster, really, no better term for it—crawled out of the earth. It came straight for the school, and our spells did little to stop it. I can keep it at bay with the storm, but it isn’t a permanent solution. It attacks anyone who comes near the school—especially wizards. It has some kind of grudge against them. The college’s defenses can keep it out for a short while, but we’re running low on supplies. Eventually, it will get in, we’ll drown the entire county, or we’ll starve.”

  “You have no idea where it came from?” Alis asked.

  Enna frowned.

  “It came from the Spellfield. I don’t even know quite what it is. We have a magical creature scholar on staff, of course, but he has been no help.” Her face twisted into a disgusted expression.

  “It turns out he is better suited as a scholar than a field researcher. He has no courage for anything more ferocious than a book gnat.” She waved her hands again in frustration with cowardly professor.

  A burst of pride surged through Alis. When tested outside of the safety of her library, she had not run away. Her heart swelled at the thought her own Headmaster would not complain of her cowardice to others the way Enna mocked the poor, out-of-his-depth researcher.

  “Maybe running out of sweetcakes and wine would drive him to be useful, but I wouldn’t expect it. So now, it comes to you,” Enna said. She stood up again.

  “You have quite the reputation for dealing with such problems.” Enna looked at Cahan as she said this. Alis’ brain immediately ground into overdrive, wondering why she wasn’t included in the comment. The rational side of her told her it was because she knew Cahan already. It wasn’t a personal slight.

  But her emotional side, the one oversensitive at being dismissed by nobles just like Enna for all her career just because of her birth family, screamed that this was the case here, too.

  “Mordwin is in dire need at this point. It’s why I sent for you. I trust you to help us.” Enna’s annoyance cleared, like the sun breaking through a cloud. “And I need to tell Mama that you have turned me down once again, now that I have had the chance to ask.” She laughed. Cahan laughed, too. Alis could tell that it was an old joke between them, and it only served to make her feel like an outsider. She ground her teeth and shifted uncomfortably in her chair, out of place in their friendly exchange.

  “Mama always knows if I am lying, and now I can tell her so without fear of punishment.” Enna winked at Cahan, still grinning. “All of our resources are at your disposal. Just get rid of the slimy thing, and get me my school back.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Cahan replied smartly, with only a little bit of a smirk.

  Noble birth. Impressive magical powers. Her own magical school. Poise, confidence…the ability to marry Cahan if she so desired. Ugh.

  Alis grumbled to herself in a spiraling monologue as she stalked through the school in her absolutely ridiculous outfit that made her feel like a child.

  She knew she was being unfair to Enna, who had been nothing but cordial to her, but frustration roared inside her anyway. Alis’ shield against the ostracization she’d faced in her life – first, as a girl in a farming village with magical powers, and then as a farm girl in a school of magical nobles was anger. Perhaps not the most mature response, but it guarded her heart against the pain other people brought. Cahan had put a chink in it, and she tried to see the world with his easy-going charm, but she still struggled with it. Plus, anger could be quite the fuel for accomplishment, and Alis knew better than most how to harness it.

  Five minutes of self-reflection later, she found herself in the place she always went whenever the world was amiss: the library.

  But instead of the massive tower stacked with multiple levels hosting thousands of texts, Alis walked into an unfamiliar library with little in common with her beloved Scholae. A single, massive room, with reading nooks along the bottom wall, made up the entire collection. The size of it threatened to overwhelm her; at least at her own university, the layout hid the truly enormous size of the collection. Here it all stretched out in front of her, assailing her with its vastness. Huge windows with colored glass lined the far and eastern walls. Three stories of balconies, narrow enough for a single person to stand on, lined the shelves at each story height. Graceful iron filigree stretched across the railings of these balconies. Alis took a moment to look closely, noting that the artful and flowing curls of metal formed ancient runes. This entire college was a paean to magic. Coming from a school split between the art of magic and the art of war, the outright celebration of wizards—collectively called the Auguria—surprised her.

  Iron ladders on wheels stretched from the floor to the top balcony. Alis watched one of the two librarians on duty reshelving books. He clattered up the ladder to the second floor, where the railing temporarily vanished for him to step onto the platform. He set the large pile of books onto the ground and began to sort them. The railing reappeared after he settled into his task.

  She had made a quick side trip to speak to the specialist that the Headmistress mentioned, but he had been little help. It did make her feel a little bit more at home at this school, seeing a man promoted far past his abilities for who knows what reason. Bureaucracies were the same at heart wherever one went.

  He did give Alis the beginning of a thread to follow, however, and so here she came. After admiring the great cavern of a room, she approached the large book near the entrance of the library. It contained their filing system—in a school of wizards, there was no need for anything but a magical record. If they’d implemented similar at Scholae, the librarians would spend all their time fetching books for the warriors. And if there was one universal dislike amongst wizards, it was being sent on fetch quests. Especially by warriors.

  Alis lightly touched the pages of the open book. Its binding stretched at least five feet across when opened, and it sat atop a heavy, dark marble dais. She paused to figure out how to use it and then searched their archives to find the books she needed.

  Alis memorized their location and went to work finding them. She liked the silence of the empty library. Apparently, the wizards at Mordwin weren’t any fonder of Friday night studying than the students at Scholae. Rather than bothering the lone assistant and having to come up with small talk, she found them all herself.

  She selected a table close to the magical index to reduce her travel time if she needed to find more books and dumped a pile of texts onto it. Researching was one of her skills - and, honestly, one of her loves. She would figure out the monster attacking the college eventually. She had to. Not just because it had been asked of her or because the school was in danger, but because she certainly wasn’t going to look useless in front of a wizard like Enna Mordwin. Or Cahan, for that matter. If she wasn’t useful, why would Cahan want her – a prickly, naïve younger wizard – around?

  I might not be able to summon a storm, but I can solve this problem for her.

  Alis settled down to focus on her research, choosing not to linger on why competition stirred in her chest, only to use it for her own benefit. She had worked hard to be where she was. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to prove herself despite her humble roots.

  And there she sat for the next several hours, until the magical torches lighting the room burned low, and the stained-glass windows grew dark. She worked through the large pile of old books, but none held the answer she needed. Sighing, she stood up and returned to the directory in the center of the library.

  Alis spent another half hour navigating through it, looking for any other books that might be of use. Finally, she found another three to examine. They were all located in the upper east corner of the library, a section labeled Magicae Spiritus Vitae.

  She found the ladder closest to the balcony she wanted to reach and tried to climb on it. Her feet pushed through empty air, and she stumbled. The wooden rungs were not where her body expected them to be. Alis frowned. She
wasn’t that tired yet, was she? But when she reached forward, the ladder slid just outside her grasp. She took a step forward, chasing it. The ladder rolled away from her again. Growling in annoyance, she stamped her foot and lunged aggressively for the obnoxious thing. She’d turn it into kindling soon if she didn’t catch it.

  “That ladder is for the restricted section,” came a voice from behind her.

  Alis jumped. She’d thought she was alone in the library, other than the old woman manning the circulation desk and the young assistant.

  A girl, no older than fifteen or sixteen, sat at one of the study tables in the nook where Alis stood. She had a pale, heart-shaped face and long black hair twisted tightly into double braids. She wore the same blue and white uniform that Alis did. A large pile of books and several shiefs of parchment sat on the table in front of her.

  “Restricted section?” Alis responded in a puzzled tone. The concept was straightforward, but Scholae had no such thing.

  “The college monitors access to several types of spell books, since many of the students are so young,” the girl explained. Imperiousness laced her voice. “Those books are about Breath of Life spells. I suppose the professors don’t want to have to deal with someone animating ridiculous objects on a regular basis.”

  “Oh,” Alis responded in a moment of stunning charisma. The girl had an arrogant, long suffering feeling about her. She rolled her eyes at Alis.

  “You’ll need to speak to the librarian about access,” she prompted.

  The girl looked down her nose at Alis, which was impressive since she was sitting and Alis was standing. She stared at Alis as if she was the village idiot, her lip curled into a smirk.

  Alis’ natural prickliness reasserted itself, and she narrowed her eyes.

  “Yes, of course. Thank you…?” she paused, prompting the girl for her name.

  “Maera. My name is Maera.” Under Alis’s own snide tone, her demeanor shifted to be friendlier. They locked eyes for a moment, and despite the age difference and irritated exterior, Alis had the feeling she’d found a kindred soul.

  Alis found the librarian’s desk in one of the nooks in the rear of the room, tucked away near one of the sets of colored glass windows. A thin and grouchy-looking old woman sat behind it, intensely reading a book that Alis couldn’t see the cover of. She looked at the old woman with harshly pulled back white hair and deep, angry lines on her face and had a strange moment of reflection. Would this have been her future, had she never gathered the courage to adventure in the wider world? She could admit to herself she already had the same scowl.

  “Excuse me,” Alis said politely as the ever-present storm reminded her of her limited timetable. The librarian set her book down with an annoyed thud, looking up at her in irritation.

  “Yes?” she asked shortly.

  Alis wondered how often she normally interacted with patrons. How much work was there to do with so many magical systems present to run the library? Even here, the books would be temperamental enough to dislike being touched by magic, but many of the other processes of the library had been replaced with magical automation.

  “I need a book on magical constructs for my research,” Alis began, moving closer to the circulation desk. “But it has been brought to my attention that the title is in the restricted section. Can you help me?” She briefly gestured at the area of the library with the obnoxiously stubborn ladder.

  “Do you have a permission slip?” The old woman asked. She glared at Alis over her glasses. Alis frowned.

  “I am not a student here. I’m a guest, invited by Headmistress Mordwin,” Alis replied, taken aback. The librarian narrowed her eyes, taking in her uniform.

  “I still require an acceptable signature,” the woman intoned, talking to Alis like she was a child. It had been a long day, and Alis had never been a patient woman. She sighed noisily, gritting her teeth in irritation.

  “I don’t have that! I’m here to help with your bloody monster. I just want to look at the book,” she spoke in an angry whisper. Librarian habits died hard.

  “If you do not have a signed slip, I cannot help you,” the woman sniffed. Then she pointedly returned to her book. At such a late hour it would be difficult to track down someone in authority to get a signature. The Headmistress would certainly do it, but she had to find her first. And possibly wake her.

  “Ugh!” Alis huffed, stalking back to the study table she’d claimed as her own. Bureaucratic regulations would be the end of her. Perhaps the universe was exacting payback for all the times in her life she’d slavishly followed them.

  Maera poked her head around the corner cautiously as Alis slammed books around to express her frustration. Alis’s own innate library code of conduct kept her from doing much else. It was a library, after all, and being loud would not change the old biddy’s mind anyway.

  Alis noticed Maera after a brief period of angry mutters to herself. She blushed and straightened, gently placing the book in her hands back on the table.

  “She wouldn’t give me permission or lift the restrictions,” she commented sourly. Maera pursed her lips.

  “Miss Imyne is quite strict,” Maera responded.

  Alis snorted. That’s an understatement.

  “What book do you need?” Maera asked a moment later, and Alis told her. Before she could ask anything else, the teenager turned and headed for the restricted section. Alis dared not shout after her. She didn’t want to draw Miss Imyne’s attention.

  Maera walked straight up to the ladder and climbed on it with no trouble whatsoever. Alis gaped as the girl procured the book, came back down the ladder, and returned to her in a matter of minutes.

  “Here you go. Now you don’t have to flirt with Hue in some dark corner of the library to convince him to get it for you,” Maera said brightly when she returned. She gestured at the librarian’s assistant, an upper school student that must have been at least four years younger than Alis. He noticed the girls watching him and, while looking over his shoulder, he walked straight into one of the bookcases. Maera giggled, but Alis did her best to try and save the poor man’s pride by pretending like she didn’t notice.

  “We should be glad that the fate of the school doesn’t rely on my flirting skills.”

  “I have a signed permission slip for my History of Runes essay. I thought I would help. Especially, if you’re really here to deal with the monster.” Maera now seemed positively cheerful. Perhaps she was excited to help. Or perhaps she had decided that Alis was not an idiot.

  Either way worked for Alis.

  The doors opened, and Alis turned to see Cahan walk through them. She had no idea what he’d been doing for the last several hours, but excitement fluttered in her chest anyway. She always enjoyed his presence. She greeted him, relayed to him the small amount of information she’d acquired, and then promptly returned to her research work. She lost all track of time, and track of what Cahan did to pass the time as she delved into her books. Eventually, Maera finished all her school work and left. Alis barely noticed her exit.

  The bells in the east tower of the college rang a single time, marking that midnight had come and gone. Alis could barely hear the sound over the storm. Both the longevity and the power of the storm impressed her. The Headmistress was no magical lightweight. Perhaps someday, Alis could learn such a spell from her. Maybe, when her life settled down, she could even attend Mordwin for a semester or two, to fill out any obscure classes that she had been unable to take at Scholae.

  But none of that mattered at the moment. She took solace in the wind and rain lashing outside. The sounds of both meant her timer hadn’t run out, even if she hadn’t found an answer yet.

  Silence settled over the deserted library, the shadows growing long in the low light of the torches. Even the crotchety old woman and her young assistant had left. Only she and Cahan remained.

  Currently, Cahan snoozed in his chair at the table, his head propped up against the wall. He could sleep damn near anywhe
re, a fact that irritated her deeply every time she tossed and turned on the rocky ground while he happily crashed into a deep slumber. Alis frowned at him. At least, he wasn’t snoring.

  She sighed and turned back to her books. Digging through another one produced little result, and the next was no better either. But, finally, in the third she found her answer. She silently thanked Maera for her help again.

  Eyeing her sleeping companion, Alis slapped the book onto the table in front of him loudly. She hoped he would jump out of his skin, but his only response was to slowly open one eye and look at her.

  Sometimes, he was so competent and level-headed that he was no fun at all.

  Alis showed the book to Cahan, her arms spread wide to accommodate its massive size. Cahan scanned the page.

  “I think it’s a construct. A clay golem,” she explained, standing on her toes so she could point to the illustration on the left page.

  “Another magical creature,” he mused, thinking of the dragon. Alis nodded.

  “What do we do about it?”

  Alis blushed.

  “I’m not sure about that part yet,” she murmured. Cahan smirked. He kicked his feet up on a chair across from him. Then he leaned back and closed his eyes again.

  “Wake me again when you figure out it.”

  “You can go back to your quarters,” she reminded him gently. Cahan shrugged.

  “I’ve slept in worse places,” he answered.

  “I’ll be fine,” she told him, not sure whether to be offended by his presence or touched that he wanted to stay close while a monster rampaged about the college.

  “This is not a pleasure visit. I want to get this creature banished as soon as we can,” he told her shortly. He didn’t volunteer any more explanation. Alis wondered if he’d already gone back to sleep.

  Alis started to harass him again but paused. Something had changed.

  “The rain has stopped,” Cahan observed after a moment.