A Master. At level 62.
“The Guards visited me several months ago.”
“I figured,” Alex nodded, his guess confirmed. “It’s a bit of a stretch to think you can get any goner off the street into First Magic just by inventing a good backstory for him.”
“You really have lost weight, but I wouldn’t call you a goner,” Lupen said, attempting a joke that fell flat. Light wizards always had a poor sense of humor. “Yes, I had a rather lengthy talk with Major Chon Sook. And I ended up agreeing to help him.”
“Why?”
Chapter 45
“Why?” More warm sadness. “Because you’re someone who’s close to me, Alex. Maybe even one of the closest still alive. And I certainly couldn’t miss the opportunity to bring on board a wizard Professor Raewsky said would one day excel him.”
Lupen’s eyes sparked naughtily as he continued.
“Although, with twenty-six reports from Dean Lebenstein on my desk, I’m starting to second-guess that decision.”
Silence again. This time, a forced one.
The rector stood and went over to the map. He passed by Central Boulevard, then left the city and stopped in its suburbs.
Almost exactly where Follen School had been. Maybe ten miles farther north.
Then he placed a hand on a golden emblem on the map, pulling a dossier out of a niche that opened.
Like any other old-school wizard, Lupen didn’t trust anything digital. He only liked hard copies that couldn’t be hacked by someone sitting on the other side of the globe.
“Read this.” Lupen dropped the folder onto the desk.
The front cover was emblazoned in big letters: RIZEN.
“Bitch,” Doom cursed. He knew already what he would find inside.
“We have a balance to maintain, Alex.” Lupen sat back down at his desk and intertwined his fingers. “Follen School and Rizen School were an experiment…that only half-failed.”
Doom opened the folder and started reading.
In a nutshell, it was all about another school, the one for light wizards (crammed with the best technology and a top teaching staff with monthly funding of several million credits). It was located near the dark wizard school headed by Raewsky.
Alex picked up the picture of the history teacher.
Miss Perriot. Just a bit younger…and pudgier.
Fitness has been good for her.
“We accepted two hundred students.” Lupen apparently had trouble staying quiet. “But only five of them graduated.”
Alex noticed pictures of those five all-too-familiar students.
The whole B-52 group. Small kids smiling (all but the karate boy) and waving at the camera.
“After Follen School was destroyed, we wanted to shut down Rizen, too, but…we couldn’t just throw those five out onto the streets. So, we finished teaching them the full course and only then pulled the plug.”
As Alex read the student dossiers, he felt the urge to smoke growing stronger. But he also remembered that Lupen was allergic to tobacco smoke, so lighting up would have been rude.
Alex had no desire to be disrespectful to someone who had a hand, even indirectly, in getting him out of prison.
“Why magic theory?” Turning one page after another, Alex discovered new sides of his students. Each of them had a unique gift.
Mara Glomebood: Direct command of any artifact that has a piece of her magic inside. An innate ability related to her dwarf blood.
Travis Chavert: Intuitive control over his magic.
Jing Wai: The only living shaman of the Wai Too line, the Snowy Mountain shamans.
Eleonora Wessex: Fire magic consumes less mana and delivers greater impact. Cause unknown.
And the last one.
Leo/Leonard Stone: Split personality. Leo Stone: No outstanding capabilities. Leonard Stone: VERY dangerous. Unstable. Maniac and sadist. Esper of unknown strength.
“Bitch,” Alex said in a much calmer voice, more a pronouncement than a curse. “A split personality? How is that even possible?”
“Some mortals have the condition, too.” Lupen poured some whiskey into a glass and offered it to Alex. The latter refused, barely holding back his vomit. “One personality can paint another Starry Night, while the other would mess up even the Black Square. And Stone…”
Lupen rolled up his right sleeve to demonstrate a burn covering half of his forearm.
“That happened when I accidentally scared Leo. He was trying a girl’s dress on…eleven years old.”
Alex nodded as though seeing and hearing things like that was old hat.
“Bitch,” he said for the third time. “I get why Jing, Travis, and Leo are here. But Mara and Eleonora…they’re from aristocratic families!”
“All of them were abandoned by their parents,” Lupen said in a firm and apparently disapproving voice. “All of them, Alex. No exceptions. They didn’t just attend Rizen; they lived there. As one big family.”
Alex glanced back down at the folder. It was several times thicker than his court case. A lengthy read.
“Can I take this?” he asked.
“Sure,” Lupen replied with a shrug. “That’s just a copy. When I hired you—and the decision was mine, whatever you may think—I was sure that even though you don’t have official status, you do have the most extensive knowledge of black magic of all the living residents of Atlantis…who aren’t members at the Abyss.”
It wasn’t a surprise that the rector knew about the Abyss in addition to the Guards. After all, Raewsky had been a VIP member.
“So,” the Light Master went on, “I figured it was Fate bringing all of you together again. They’re sort of your reflection. Younger—”
“…guinea pigs.” It was Alex’s turn to interrupt. “Follen School was first. Rizen followed. But one thing I’m not sure about: I wasn’t able to find out whose experiment it was. I know for sure that Follen was created by the Shadow Court and the Assembly, but who created Rizen? And why? The Light—what do you all need places like that for?”
“That information is secret, Alex. Even from me.”
“Great.”
“That’s all we have,” the rector said, quoting one of Raewsky’s favorite sayings.
“What are your plans for them, Mr. Lupen?”
“Plans? None, Alex. The Rizen project is closed. The kids are on their own. All I’m asking is for you to keep an eye on them for a while and help in any way you can. They really don’t have anyone but you in the world to rely on. Believe me.”
“Great,” Alex said again. Without asking permission, he stood and walked toward the door.
Lupen’s voice stopped him when he got there.
“Alex?”
He stopped and looked back.
The blue eyes were drilling holes in him.
A caring and sympathetic Light Master at level 62? Sure, sure. You don’t climb that high by being naïve and well-intentioned. Those people drop like flies before ever getting close.
“How did you survive that night?”
Alex rolled the ring around his finger again without realizing it.
“Just good luck,” he said.
“Yes, sure,” the rector smiled. “Pavel used to say that you’re as lucky as a little demon.”
Doom left the office, ignoring the redheaded girl with the stunningly delicious booty as she invited him to join her for a cup of coffee. The heavy folder was hitting him on the belt as he walked.
Bitch.
Chapter 46
Sitting in the cafeteria, Alex skimmed through the personal dossiers of the Rizen students.
The number of free seats around him was surprising given that it was right in the middle of the seniors’ lunch hour. When they saw Professor Dumsky drinking soda (that looked suspiciously like beer) through a straw and swearing heavily, the students all stayed as far away as possible.
In the less than a month Alex had been “teaching” at First Magic, he’d earned a reputation as the
professor who hunted lazy students through their worst nightmares.
“What a mess!” Alex slammed the folder shut. Why the abyss am I sitting here trying to shoehorn what I thought into reality when somewhere in this building is the person who can answer all my questions at once?
“Hey, you!” Alex called over to a student who’d gotten separated from his pack.
The main rule of survival is to stay with the herd. You’re easy prey when you’re alone, and that’s probably what the rest of the student body thought of their unfortunate compadre. Someone even gave him a sympathetic clap on the shoulder.
The tin tray loaded with a glass of milk, French fries, and two apples trembled so violently in the student’s hands that Alex was afraid the poor kid was going to spill something on him.
That would have been a real tragedy—he couldn’t afford another ArmaniMagico suit. At least, not in the near future.
“Y-y-yes, P-p-pr-r-rofes-s-sor-r D-d-d—”
“Where is Miss Perriot lecturing right now?”
“H-h-how sh-should I kn-n-now?”
Doom flashed his most suspicious and angry look.
The earthquake local to the student’s tray jumped to a magnitude of 12 on a 10-point scale.
“Be-be-be-be-be…”
“Are you cosplaying a car horn? Just give me the hall number.”
“B-53,” the ashen student blurted out.
“Oh. Right next door.”
He darted upstairs, folder in hand. On the way, he knocked a few girls over, tried to get one’s phone number out of habit, flashed his famous tattoo at Lebenstein, and even seemed to invent a new spell.
Reaching the hall, Alex was about to grab hold of the door handle, but he jerked his hand away at the last moment and smirked.
“Not bad,” he said, running his palm through the air over the handle.
His fingertips were tingling. Not that strongly, but still.
Miss Perriot was beloved by almost everyone at the university, with almost being the key word. The few exceptions to the rule were those who hated the whole esper race.
For most wizards, particularly those from old families, ESP-people were even worse than second-rate citizens.
They did not count as humans at all.
The curse had apparently been placed by a woman. It had to have been. Alex couldn’t imagine a male wizard of any age cursing anyone with thrush of the vulva. Gross.
Doom ran his hand through the air over the handle. The spell took the form of a wriggling, agonizing misty worm a moment before evaporating.
“Who’s the smartypants?” Doom drawled to himself. He didn’t really teach dark magic to his students, which meant that someone was smart enough to craft something like that after just being presented with a single, extremely complicated seal.
But that wasn’t Alex’s main concern right then.
“…at roughly the same time, the current ranking of magic powers was adopted.” Miss Perriot, wearing a strict business suit with the skirt ending below the knees and her hair in a tight bun, stood behind the lecture desk. She was facing a hall crammed with students.
The room was half-dark, all the windows curtained. The display board behind Miss Perriot’s back flashed visuals and short documentaries.
Most students were tapping away with their fingers on the virtual keyboards of their tablets. Some used styluses instead, finding that more convenient, but everyone was taking notes.
And it wasn’t because they had to, like for Doom’s lectures. No, it was because they were actually interested.
“If anyone forgot this, though I doubt you did, you can write it down. You may need it for the exam. The current magic ranking approved by the Supreme Magic Council has five levels. The first level, from 0 to 250 points, is Apprentice. That’s where the vast majority of living wizards stand. According to the most recent statistics, the Apprentice level makes up 80 percent of the population of Atlantis and Old Earth.
“The next level, from 251 to 1,000, is Practitioner. It makes up a much smaller percentage: between 14 and 16 percent, according to different sources. The third level is Mystic—from 1,001 to 3,000 points. It’s achieved by three to four percent of the population, though estimates again vary across sources.
“The fourth level is Adept, from 3,000 to 6,000 points. It’s achieved by 0.25 to 0.5 percent of all wizards. And the fifth and final level is Master—6,000 to 13,000 points strong. As you know, the current interpretation is that each hundred points constitutes a separate sub-level.
“The strongest living wizard in the world is Tranquil Creek, a native North American. Although he identifies as a shaman rather than a wizard, that’s still what he’s acknowledged as. The latest measurement of his power showed 8,743 mana points, putting him at the 87th level of Master and atop the global wizard ranking. But you’re highly unlikely to ever meet him. He prefers a life of solitude, avoiding all contact with the outside world.”
A hand rose in the audience.
“Yes, Mr. Chipotle?”
Chipotle? Seriously?
Alex’s stomach growled. He hadn’t had a bite to eat in a long while, and that was such an appetizing last name.
“Miss Perriot?” The esper had no professorial title, so she was just addressed by her last name. “How do we know there isn’t another wizard just as strong, or even stronger, than Tranquil Creek, maybe someone living in solitude somewhere else?”
Leia smiled and threw up her arms.
“We don’t, Mr. Chipotle.”
Alex wasn’t sure if the conversation was making him want to laugh or find something to eat.
“None of this is an exact science—all the numbers I cited are approximate.”
Another hand.
“Yes, Miss Lang?”
Is Superman coming, too? Or am I starting to hear things?
“What about the three Great Levels, Miss Perriot?”
The girl who stood up looked too grown-up to believe in children’s stories—her breasts had to enter doors a good couple seconds before the rest of her. But she still asked the question.
“The levels of Grand Master, Arch Master, and Archmage are just myths and legends from the past, Miss Lang,” the esper said in a mild, soothing smile backed by a firm voice. “Not a single historical document provides evidence that anyone with that kind of power ever lived.”
“But what about Merlin? Morgana? Faust? Other—”
“Those are legends, Miss Lang. Nothing more. Actually, it’s probable that the legendary Queens of the Fairy Courts, Titania and Mab, had powers like that, though no one ever met either of them. Just like no one has ever met Bagil, the dragon god of Ifrits. Or Gorgon, the progenitrix of Nags and Medusas. As for Merlin, Morgana, Baba Yaga, Koschei the Deathless, Baron Samedi, Sun Wukong, and Amaterasu, those stories are just mortals’ attempts to explain what they don’t understand.”
“But their statues are by the university entrance!”
“We have paintings of angels, too, but that doesn’t mean angels exist.”
“Not that long ago, people thought the same thing about unicorns.”
“Good reasoning, Miss Lang, but myths and legends were created by mortals and wizards. And those were slightly different.”
“But how did they come to invent all those creatures?”
“Like I said, they were trying to explain things they couldn’t understand. Let’s take Baba Yaga and Koschei the Deathless. They’re dark creatures from Slavic folklore, primitive attempts to explain the change between day and night. Also, the woods where the Slavic tribes used to live were far more dangerous at night than during the day.
“Aside from early animism and totemism, those tales were also influenced by the primitive idea of magic developed by human tribes before the fall of Atlantis and the world being split into two parts. Their myths tried to explain the division between light and dark magic. And now, let’s end this lecture with a bang.”
Miss Perriot chuckle immediately elicite
d laughs from her audience. Damn. What a smart move.
“Miss Lang, could you light a magic fire?”
The girl held out a hand. A small orange petal of flame flashed over her palm.
“The element of Fire qualifies as Light Magic. Can you explain why, Miss Lang?”
“Because it can either keep a person warm or hurt them,” the girl said, reciting a memorized phrase. “While—”
“While…” Miss Perriot interrupted and turned to Alex. The whole audience turned with her. “Professor Dumsky. Could you be so kind as to summon your fire?”
Silently, Alex held out his palm. His fingertips flashed with small lilac flames.
“What can your fire do, Professor Dumsky?”
“Remember once and for all, Alex: they hate you, and they always will hate you. That’s just something you have to deal with.”
“But why, Robin? I’ve never hurt anyone.”
“That doesn’t matter—what matters is that you were born a black wizard. Black magic can do nothing but hurt. It can’t save or protect; it just destroys and kills. What it brings is worse than death. It is the abyss.”
“But I didn’t choose that!”
“No one cares,” Alex whispered, repeating Robin’s words to himself before continuing out loud with a pirate’s dashing smile. “It can burn Miss Lang, for instance.”
“Let’s not do that, Professor Dumsky.” She looked at the students. “I hope you understand now. The Light can either hurt or take away pain. Heal. Save. Keep you warm. But black magic can only destroy, which is why it’s called Dark. All right, that’s all for today.”
The students burst into applause and then started collecting their things.
Switching her display board off, Miss Perriot turned to Alex. She gave him an appraising once-over (and paused for a second when she saw the folder in his hand) before asking her question.
“Do they serve coffee at the Schooner?”
“Only instant.”
“Well, I’m always up for a risk. Can we go get some?”
Dark Wizard's Case Page 25
