by c a king
“Eyes, forward. Ears open. Mouths shut. We now have information on this year’s competition,” the headmistress announced, breaking her concentration. “Shuffle farther in.” One hand waved students to move, the walls throbbing as the room expanded slightly. “I wasn’t anticipating such a large response. It pleases me to see so much school spirit.”
Leo crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall closest to the door. “I’m not sure I’d call it that,” he huffed. “It looks good on my record, though.”
“Well.” Mary Meet’s pride remained unwavering. “Everyone has their own reasons for being here. As a group you exude the essence of your academy, though.” She paced before the students. “First off, I’ll explain the competition.” She paused, searching for the perfect words. “It’s a treasure hunt.”
“A what?” Thomas quarried.
The headmistress held up one hand, palm first, stopping him. “I’ll take questions at the end.”
“Great,” Leo scoffed. “We have to stay for the whole thing.”
“Yes, you do,” Mary Meet said in a stern voice. Her arms rose, the floor rumbling before her. Students jumped out of the way as a three-dimensional model of the academies grew before them.
“What is that?” Thomas cried out.
“It’s a map, of course,” the headmistress beamed. “A rather good one, at that. Take a look, everyone. All educational institutions are participating.” She leaned over her creation. “There are quite a few, as you can see. Each of them will be given a magical item. As a group, students will need to protect their own treasure, while attempting to steal those of other academies. Those who accumulate the most treasures throughout the competition win,” she chuckled. “It’s rather simple.”
“How, exactly do we do that?” Frankie asked, brow lifted.
Mary Meet raised a single finger. “First, you have to follow the rules. Listen carefully. Treasures must remain on academy grounds unless in the possession of an enemy. Stolen treasure must be returned to your home base. From there, they can also be stolen by another group. You may use any form of magic, or magical item, in your quest.” Her hands clasped together. “There you have it. Pretty much anything goes.”
“How do we compete against bigger academies?” a voice shrieked, its owner lost in the middle of a sea of faces.
“Only eight participants per academy are allowed. Once chosen, a student cannot be replaced, regardless of injury or death.” Mary Meet patted the sides of her tied back hair. “Obviously we have far too many applicants here. First years can sign up as reserves.” She snapped her fingers, a clipboard appearing. “Once I have your names, please return to your usual daily routines.” Most of them left without bothering to jot down their information.
“What about the people trying to live their everyday lives—the other students—the shops?” Cali asked. “Won’t this competition interfere with them?”
“Don’t be silly,” the headmistress chuckled. “The area you’ll be in is an exact replica of the space. The only ones allowed to enter are participants.” Her arms lifted. “So you see, you can go all-out and not worry about a single thing... not even damage to the buildings. It’s all been allotted for.”
“Isn’t that dandy,” Leo blurted out. “Except for the fact, most of us have no clue how to use any magic. This dump hasn’t taught us a single spell.”
“For a bright young wizard, you sell yourself short,” the headmistress replied. “You all have it in you. Watch the signs and you’ll see where to trod. Also, you can take your helpers along. All you need now is a dash of cooperation and a solid plan.”
Watch the signs. Makayla glanced at the book still in her hands. Sometimes it was hard to see the difference between what was actually a sign or simply a coincidence. There was also a chance the headmistress was referring to Snailime’s class. Was the instructor being hard-nosed because of the competition? She sighed. Another year was here and she was no closer to solving her previous questions. Now, more were stacking up on top of them.
“I’ll be drawing up the final list of eight names over the next week,” the headmistress continued. “Until then think about how you could contribute. That’s all. Everyone dismissed.”
“Headmistress,” Makayla said, approaching slowly. “There’s no chance of outside interference, is there?”
“No,” the headmistress replied. “I am certain there won’t be a repeat of last year’s mistakes. Security for this competition will be intensive.”
Makayla nodded, leaving without saying another thing. That answer left a sour taste in her mouth, even if they were the words she wanted to hear. Evil was a foot—of that she was certain. Unfortunately without proof, no one was going to believe her.
Chapter Ten
“Gather round. Gather round,” Tallen announced. “I didn’t expect to have you all standing before me again. I trust you remember my speech from last year.”
There wasn’t much to remember, other than the basics. Helpers willingly chose their own destinies. Once they first presented themselves, beast and wizard were bonded on the spot, henceforth appearing for each other in the most desperate times of need. Other than those few details, the class was promised they’d learn more after partnering up with their own. That part never really happened.
“So you’ll be off once more, albeit, I’m not exactly sure why.” Miss Tallen clapped her hands together to gain the attention of eager students. “Right then... simple instructions.” An uncertain frown mixed with a fake smile. “As you know, helpers only present themselves to those who are alone. You will all enter the woods at the same time, but I suggest strongly you keep your distance from one another as this is, I repeat is, a solo quest. Keep in mind, magical beasts generally don’t appear until the sun is down and for the bellyachers amongst you, stop your whining immediately... helpers hate complainers. Now then, I trust you have everything you need with you already.”
Cali’s arm trembled as it rose. “I thought it was rare for a wizard to have more than one helper. If that’s true, what’s the point to all this?”
“Again, I’m not exactly sure,” Tallen chuckled nervously. “Professor Snailime has insisted you need to endure this exercise. Next time, I suggest complying with his in-class requests so you don’t end up here all over again, bothering me.”
“Even if complying means destroying the building?” Makayla’s brow rose. “Never mind,” she sighed. “Can we use our helpers to find new helpers?”
“What an odd question,” Tallen replied. “I’ve never thought about it before,” she chuckled nervously. “Most helpers don’t grow to be quite so large or uncontrollable as to not fit in a normal-sized room. As for your other question,” her shoulders shrugged, “I suppose you can have them tag along. There are no rules or regulations to say otherwise. It rather defeats the purpose, though. Generally speaking, helpers shy away from one another rather than attracting more of their kind. I’ll leave the final decision up to all of you. Do what you think is best and I am certain all will work out in the end.”
“Best... not easiest,” Makayla mumbled, cupping her chin between thumb and forefinger. Weather wise, it was slightly warmer than the frigid temperatures of the previous year. That didn’t change the blistery wind, or the fact temperatures dropped rapidly at night. Shivering hadn’t begun yet, but chattering teeth were bound to appear at some point if the quest for a third helper dragged on.
“Off you go!” Tallen ordered. “There’s a warm tea with my name on it. If you hurry I might save you some biscuits.”
*****
The only thing good about being inside the forest was the treeline blocked the blistering chill. The bad part was how much more creepy everything seemed when she was alone in the dwindling light. Shadows became monsters with vicious fangs and even sharper claws. The snapping of twigs was the result of the heavy foot of a serial killer. Imagination was man’s worst friend, not that she had a best friend at the moment.
&n
bsp; Her body slumped under the weight of her own thoughts. The end of last year had been brutal—enduring segregation from her friends—having doubt cast on her personality. Being reunited with her friends was meant to be a joyous occasion. The celebration part never happened, though. Despite being able to see each other; regardless of the fact they knew the truth; things simply never returned to they way they had once been. She’d done nothing wrong, but still braved the sideways glances of accusing eyes and whispers of gossipers. Even with freedom she was locked up, destined to be alone in a cage.
Makayla sighed, settling in for a long evening. First came setting up the tent. Driving the stakes in the ground was much easier when it wasn’t frozen. Fire was next in line on her survival plan. She riffled through the contents of the pack, coming up empty. It wasn’t much of a surprise, Tallen never considered matches or a lighter a must-have for campers. It was her own fault for not remembering to bring her own.
A loud sigh echoed through the trees. Two damp twigs rubbing together weren’t going to do the trick. Still she persisted on—twirling and blowing. With Puffer usually by her side, survival one-o-one wasn’t high on her list of tricks to learn. Besides, most wizards created fire at will. The sticks fell in a pile, dark and lifeless. Alone, she was hopeless. A loud crash behind her confirmed it—the tent lay in a messy pile on the ground.
Straightening up the poles was straightforward enough. That begged the question, why they collapsed in the first place. She licked one finger, holding it above her head. There wasn’t enough wind under the tree canopy to affect a tent, perhaps if she’d chosen a spot in a clearing that might have been the case. Her thoughts trailed off, eyes following orange light.
A blast of flames flew over her shoulder hitting the pile. The twigs, she’d attempted to ignite, lit in a blaze of glory, dancing with a glowing warmth. Makayla’s head turned slowly, not wanting to startle who or what had come to her rescue. Puffer was far too large to sneak about anymore and Gargle had many useful attributes, but fire wasn’t one of them. That meant something else was luring nearby. Beady black eyes brought back the cold bite the fire chased away. She froze on the spot, unable to glance away.
“Hello,” Makayla called out, feeling like a scream queen in a poorly made horror movie. “I’m only visiting your forest for the night. I mean you no harm.”
Two horns appeared first, followed by a third inverted on its chin, and a fourth at the end of its whip-like tail. The creature’s small, dark red body emerged from the bushes. A stick and a few stones were the only line of defence between herself and the unknown lurking a few feet in front.
Makayla crouched down, holding out her hand. “I doubt you are a regular helper,” she sighed. “That’s what I’m here for, although I have two already. I met them here last year... a dragon and a gargoyle. To tell you the truth, I’d be happy with a bit of company tonight. Would you mind if I call you Ollie?”
Ollie cocked his head to the side, inching forward. “Tee-he?” He took a step back in apprehension.
“I bet you’re just looking for a little fun, huh?” Makayla huffed. “It must be terribly boring out here all alone.” She sat by the firepit. “I know how you feel. I’ve been lonely, too.”
Translucent, leathery wings extended, fluttering as if fanning the dying embers. Sparks ignited, flames growing. Ollie slowly inched forward, taking a seat alongside her. For once the silence didn’t seem quiet at all.
Chapter Eleven
Professor Snailime pranced into the room. “Textbooks away. Helpers out. If you don’t have one, excuse yourself from the room now.” He glanced around. “Very good. Let’s see what creatures you’ve all acquired.” He peered from side to side, walking down the aisle. “Cat, useful. Fox, excellent. Owl, good. Oh, look. There are two squirrels now.” He jumped back a few desks. “I thought the squirrels were a joke, but this takes the cake. My dear girl, do you have any idea what’s sitting on your desk?”
“My new helper, of course.” Makayla shrugged. “He’s quite friendly. I’ve named him Ollie.”
Ollie saluted, wearing only a smile of sharp teeth. “Tee-he.”
“That, my dear, is an imp.” Snailime's textbook flew through the air, landing open on the desk in front of his student. “Imps are vicious, manipulative fiends that cannot be trusted. It’s more than likely that little devil is already working for someone else... someone evil. Its job is to assist and corrupt others, those whom their masters desire to manipulate in some way.”
“Ollie isn’t like that,” Makayla argued. “I think imps are simply misunderstood creatures, who received a bad reputation somewhere along the lines. One bad egg doesn’t mean the whole carton is rotten.”
“Read the textbook,” Snailime ordered, keeping his distance. “An imp is both cunning and devious; the true masters of corruption using their bag of well-honed tricks in combination with man’s greatest weakness, temptation, to coerce its prey into doing their, or their master’s bidding.”
“And here I was thinking they were merely irritating,” Frankie chuckled. “I’ve only ever heard of them causing an uproar over some form of mischief or petty theft.”
“There’s that, too,” Snailime agreed. “Those acts are more of a fun way to pass the time, though. Trust me when I say; those things harbour no genuine loyalty to man, wizard, or beast. They may agree to fulfill a wayward magic user’s requests for a while, but we are merely playthings... tools... a means to an end for them. What they really desire is a power of their own. For that, they’ll steal, betray, or even murder.”
“That’s rather harsh,” Makayla snapped. “It doesn’t mention any of that in this section. Although, it’s probably good to know their horns, claws, and teeth all carry a venom for battle, which is unique to the imp. Will we be learning how to make anti-venom in this class?”
“I think you are missing the point,” Snailime hissed through clenched teeth. “That thing is evil incarnate. Similar to werewolves, it takes silver to kill one.”
“That actually makes sense,” Makayla said, nodding. “It says here they are shape shifters, after all, albeit taking the form of much smaller animals. There aren’t any notes on wolves per se... insects... rats... birds... but no wolves.”
“You’re not listening...”
“I am. You asked me to read this section,” Makayla interrupted. “Honestly, Professor, according to this, Ollie has so many useful talents... invisibility... the ability to detect different magics... healing... speed... strength... stamina... use of elemental magics... whispering magic...”
“Stop!” Snailime bellowed. “You missed the point. The type of loyalty these creatures afford our kind is nothing more than a flimsy illusion. Even if you were the one they were devoted to, and that’s a huge leap of faith, they are cowards. Their sort rarely engages in battle, especially if they don’t appear to have a huge advantage. Trust me, if it’s not a sure thing, they’ll want no part of it.”
“I’d rather think they are simply battle hardened,” Makayla replied. “More along the lines of mini-generals, who understand the most advantageous way to form a plan for survival.”
“Honestly,” the professor scoffed. “I’d prefer not to have that thing in my classroom.” He exhaled his dissatisfaction in one raspy breath, coughing immediately after. “However, it’s not my place to argue with a headstrong fool. I will allow the headmistress to make the decision if it stays or goes. The two of you can visit her office after class. In the meantime, let’s discuss forming bonds with your helpers.” He moved back to the front of the room. “Who can tell me why it is important?”
Leo raised his hand above his head, answering without waiting to be called on. “The stronger the bond, the better the helper’s abilities. It’s how they grow.”
“Correct!” the professor exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “It’s the way in which they mature emotionally, physically, and magically. That’s not all, though. The bond is needed for summoning as well.”
His hand waved over the top of his desk, a large snail appearing. “Habits. Likes. Dislikes. Knowing your partner is the first step. What happens if someone feeds you something you are allergic to?”
“Hives, wheezing, and a bunch of other stuff,” Thomas replied, shaking his head. “It’s nasty.”
“Yes, it sounds horrible,” Snailime grimaced. “We have to remember, the same applies to our helpers. There are foods and items which could be deadly if ingested or simply touched. Taking care of them outside their natural habitat is your responsibility.”
“What about communication?” Sven asked. “It’s hard enough having to speak another language to attend this academy. I doubt I can learn animal speech as well.”
“Believe it or not, you’ll come to understand each other better the closer you become,” Snailime answered. “Eventually language won’t be a problem.” He paused. “But wait, there’s more.”
“What is this, a cheap late-night commercial?” Frankie grumbled.
“All living creatures have some form of weakness,” Snailime continued, pretending not to notice the snarky comment. “While learning about your new partners, make sure you take note of their flaws. Take a minute and look them over right now. See what you can figure out on the spot.”
“What exactly are we looking for?” Thomas asked.
“Take Frederick here,” the professor answered, hands motioning toward the large snail on his desk. “Snails have several noteworthy challenges to overcome. They are slow. They have frail bodies, which require a shell for protection. Luckily, we can create lotions and edible items to help them overcome such issues.” He rubbed a cream over a patch of shell, leaving it gleaming with opalescence. “See?”
“See what?” Leo scoffed. “Are you going to add a pretty bow?”
“This lotion, I’ll have you know, strengthens and hardens,” Snailime boasted. “It took me years to make the perfect concoction.” He held up a finger. “That’s not all, either. I have an edible to increase speed and stamina, as well as a form of aromatherapy to heighten their sense.”
