Outwit: Spellslingers Academy of Magic (Enforcer of the East Book 1)

by Annabel Chase

  “So all your fraternity brothers were hoping for a new and improved version of themselves?” I asked.

  “Pretty much.” His hand stilled. “I don’t think it worked out the way we hoped.”

  Interesting. Maybe Michael had been right. Maybe Ben’s coma was due to the trauma he witnessed.

  “What makes you say that?” I asked.

  Ben tugged on his ear. “I don’t know.”

  “Are you sure you don’t know?” I asked gently. “You’re okay, Ben. You’re safe. Why don’t you wake up?”

  His gaze lowered. “I don’t know that I want to.”

  I drew another circle in the dirt and added stick figure hair. “You’d rather die? Because if you stay unconscious for too long, that’s what will happen. You have a younger sister, don’t you?”

  He nodded. “She was excited about the camping trip. She’d wanted to tag along, but I told her no. That it was guys only.”

  “Younger siblings are like that,” I said. “They want to do everything we do.” I hesitated. “She needs you to wake up, Ben. She needs her big brother.”

  Ben broke his stick in half and tossed the pieces into a nearby bush. “I don’t know that I can.”

  “Because you feel guilty?” I asked.

  He snapped to attention. “Why would I feel guilty?”

  “Because what happened to your friends didn’t happen to you,” I replied. “Ben, you made a bad choice and followed the wrong leader. You’re not responsible.”

  “I decided not to drink it,” Ben said vaguely. “But it was too late. We were all in the clearing.”

  “What about the person who gave Warren the potion?” I asked.

  Ben shook his head. “It was just us there. No one else.”

  “No one else that you saw,” I told him. “I was there.”

  His eyes widened. “You were?”

  “With my friends,” I said. “We were there for a different purpose, though.”

  “I’m glad.” Ben’s expression grew dreamy. “I need to go now.”

  “Promise me you’ll think about waking up,” I said. I had no idea whether this dream had truly connected us, but I wasn’t going to waste an opportunity to get through to Ben.

  “I will.”

  I glanced at the forest floor and realized that Ben had drawn a symbol. It was two circles with a horizontal line to the side. “What is that?”

  Ben looked down as though seeing it for the first time. “I don’t know. I must’ve seen it somewhere before.”

  I committed the symbol to memory so that I could draw it for Callan when I woke up.

  “Your picture is nice,” Ben said. “Is that your family?”

  My attention shifted from the symbol to my drawing. I hadn’t made a conscious decision to draw them, but there they were. “Yes,” I said simply.

  “Three sisters and a brother.” Ben sucked in a breath. “That’s a lot of kids. Are you the oldest?”

  “Yes.” I stared at the seven stick figures in the dirt. My parents were sketched slightly apart from the five children.

  “I always thought it would be cool to be part of a big family,” Ben said. “My house was so quiet when I was growing up. I love college because it’s noisy and full of life.” He cut himself off abruptly at the word life. “At least it was.”

  I closed the gap between us and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You’re very fortunate, Ben. You’ve survived a horrible event. Your brothers would want you to live your life and not feel guilty about it. Your last minute decision saved your life.”

  Ben choked back tears. “But not theirs. I didn’t even try to stop them. I didn’t know what would happen.”

  “But you listened to your gut and it saved your life,” I said. “Don’t waste this gift. The longer you sleep, the weaker you become. Promise me you’ll wake up, Ben.”

  Ben wrapped his arms around himself. “I feel so tired.”

  “That’s because you’ve been asleep for so long.”

  His voice cracked. “I don’t want to be here alone anymore.”

  A lump formed in my throat. “Then you know what you have to do.”

  I woke up in my temporary room at the academy. Callan sat by my side, reading my herbology book. He snapped it shut when I opened my eyes.

  “There you are,” he said, his relief evident. “Alana told me to call for her if you didn’t wake up in the next half an hour. You were cutting it close there, lemon drop.”

  “I had a visceral dream,” I said.

  “What you have is a nasty bruise,” Callan said. “You’ll be happy to know that Lucy was taken to task. Boy, was she red in the face when Master Horton was through with her.” He chuckled.

  Lucy was the least of my concerns right now. “Ben was there.”

  “Coma kid was in your dream? Kinky.”

  I sat up. “I think I was actually communicating with him.”

  Callan scratched the back of his neck. “How?”

  “I tend to have vivid dreams,” I said.

  “Okay, but there’s a difference between a vivid dream and actual communication.”

  “Maybe it’s to do with our connection to the vortex.”

  “Or maybe it was just a dream.”

  I flipped back the covers. “There’s one way to find out.” I hurried over to the desk and drew the symbol that Ben had sketched with a stick. “He drew this symbol. I think it might be significant.”

  Callan scrutinized the symbol. “Doesn’t look familiar to me.”

  “Me neither, but that’s what the academy library is for.”

  “Now? You should probably relax, Cerys. Maybe get a bite to eat.”

  “If you’re hungry, then just say so.” Of course he was hungry. He’d probably been stuck here for hours.

  “Bryn brought me food earlier,” he said. “That witch makes a lot of trips to the cafeteria.”

  “Something you have in common,” I said. “We’ll knock for my roommates before we go. They’ll want to help.”

  Callan appeared concerned. “Are you sure you feel well enough? You were knocked out cold.”

  “I’m not going to ignore this dream, Callan,” I said. “It means something. I feel it in my bones.”

  He slapped his hands on his thighs. “Okay then, dream weaver. I go wherever you go, even if it’s to a dusty old library.”

  I closed a book entitled Egyptology and You. Nothing in that one. Mia sat beside me with another book called The History of Symbols. An image of the symbol with two circles and a horizontal line shimmered in the air above the table. I’d managed to create it with a spell my younger sister, Elsa, liked to use for her art projects. That way everyone could see it at the same time as they searched the books for a match. Callan sat at the far end of the table, paging through grimoires for any sign of the symbol in a spell. Bryn and Dani were in the stacks with books piled around them on the floor.

  I decided to take a break and went to see Cato, the disembodied gryphon that was affixed to the back wall of the library. Unsurprisingly, the gryphon knew all about the werewolf and the case we were investigating.

  “You haven’t seen this symbol, have you?” I asked.

  “I’m afraid not,” he said.

  “Maybe I made it up,” I said. “Maybe Callan is right and I didn’t really talk to Ben.”

  “Perhaps not, but your dream was trying to tell you something either way. Best to trust it.”

  “Yes, that’s what I think too.” I glimpsed Callan with his face buried in another book. “I’m sure he’s anxious to get back to his life.”

  “I wouldn’t be so quick to believe that,” Cato said. “He seems perfectly content for someone bound against his will.”

  I grew flustered. “I doubt he’s content. He’s just making the best of a bad situation.”

  Cato’s beak twisted into the gryphon version of a smile. “Perhaps it is that.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What are you suggesting, Cato?”

/>   The gryphon sighed. “Do you know how many times he’s looked at you during the time you’ve been in here?”

  I smiled. “He’s probably checking to make sure I don’t stray outside the limited radius and inflict pain on him.”

  “Oh, you’d inflict pain on him if you left. Of that I have no doubt.”

  “No way. Trust me. Callan is all about the job.” And I was simply a necessary element right now. Soon I’d be a distant memory.

  “Is there something wrong with him?” Cato asked.

  I blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “Some reason he would not fancy you,” Cato said.

  “For one thing, he’s a werewolf. Witches and werewolves?”

  Cato scoffed. “Those pairings are as old as time, my dear. The whole werewolf pack mentality is more modern than you think. Even the lone wolf desires companionship.”

  I laughed. “He has companionship whether he wants it or not.”

  “And during this time, he has seen you for who you truly are.”

  No, he couldn’t have. Not really. Not when I hid a part of myself from everyone I knew. “I think he’s intent on doing his job and doing it well. And he knows in less than two weeks, he’ll be rid of me.”

  Bryn emerged from the stacks and strolled over to us. “What are we talking about? The new meat in the cafeteria? Because I can tell you right now, it is made from stardust and dreams.”

  “I believe it is made from ostrich,” Cato said.

  Bryn rubbed her stomach. “Whatever it is, it’s fabulous.”

  “I guess you’re not coming over here with a discovery,” I said.

  “Hey, that is a discovery,” Bryn said.

  “Any luck?” I asked.

  “Sorry.” Bryn made a sad face. “It seems like such a basic symbol. Two circles and a line. I mean, how hard can it be?”

  “I imagine that is part of the problem,” Cato said. “Its simplicity makes it difficult to identify in a sea of shapes.”

  “Dani even ran over to Langley’s and showed it to him,” Bryn said. “He had no idea. Suggested that we check books on demons that need glasses. He thinks he’s so funny.” She groaned and rolled her eyes. “Stodgy professor humor.”

  I laughed. “I suppose a pair of glasses isn’t out of the realm.” I stopped talking and my eyes grew round.

  “What is it?” Bryn asked, noticing my expression. “Don’t tell me there really is a book on nearsighted demons and how to defeat them.”

  I shut my eyes and strangled a cry. All this time I’d been certain I’d never seen the symbol before. I wanted to kick myself.

  “What is it, Cerys?” Cato asked. “You seem distressed. Is it to do with the symbol?”

  I opened my eyes and glanced over my shoulder at the shimmering image. “I’ve been headed down the wrong path. It’s not a symbol at all.”

  Bryn followed my gaze. “Then what is it? Some alien equivalent to the Bat signal?”

  “Not that exciting.” I waved Callan over. “We need to go, blood buddy.”

  “You found it?” he asked.

  “Sure did.”

  “Does it summon a demon?” Bryn asked.

  “Not quite,” I said. “We need to go back to Terrene.”

  It was time to shop for formalwear.

  Chapter Ten

  Callan and I stood on a rooftop drenched in shadow. A single streetlight illuminated the entrance to Toppers on the opposite side of the street. I didn't relish being on a rooftop. Heights were not my thing, but Callan had insisted that this was the best vantage point from which to observe the men’s formalwear shop.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t remember the logo sooner,” I said. “I wasted valuable time.”

  Callan moved to the edge of the roof and dropped to his bottom, his legs dangling over the side. “The kid showed you the symbol in a dirt drawing in the middle of a dream. It could’ve happened to anyone.”

  “I wasn’t thinking about the visit to Warren’s house,” I explained. “That garment bag was tucked away at the back of his closet. I only saw the logo because it was white on black.” The logo was, in fact, an artistic rendering of a pair of ‘fancy’ glasses. What poor vision had to do with formalwear, I had no idea, but here we were.

  “See, I think your subconscious registered the garment bag and that’s what triggered the dream.”

  “So you don’t think Ben was really in the dream?”

  “Not as far as he was concerned.”

  “He hasn’t woken up yet, has he?”

  “Nope.”

  We sat in mutual silence for a moment, watching the entrance to the shop with eager anticipation.

  “What do you think we’re going to see?” I finally asked. “Someone waltzing in with a sign that reads ‘I killed eleven fraternity brothers?’”

  “Nothing is that easy, Cerys. I think we’re going to see the type of clientele that Toppers caters to and, if we’re lucky, the owner will lock up at closing time and we can have a little informal chat. Get it? Informal?”

  “You’re very clever.”

  The air was chilly on top of the roof and an involuntary shiver escaped me. Callan noticed. “Can you magic yourself a light cardigan?”

  “I’m fine,” I insisted.

  “Liar.”

  We fell silent when an older man approached the entrance. His hand shook as he reached for the door.

  “Do you think he’s scared to go in?” I asked, squinting to get a better view.

  “No, I think he's old,” Callan said. “Happens to the best of us, unless you’re a vamp.”

  The old man wasn't in there for very long. He emerged about ten minutes later with a garment bag identical to the one in Warren’s closet. He shuffled down the sidewalk, whistling to himself. The sound carried all the way to the rooftop. I continued to watch him until darkness swallowed him.

  “Why don’t we go in and talk to the owner now?” I asked. “There aren’t any customers in the shop.”

  “Because we don’t know who or what we’re dealing with,” he replied. “And if we go charging in there now, we raise the alarm. If there’s something to hide, they’ll hide it. Not to mention we risk missing out on visitors that might offer a clue.”

  I pinned my gaze on the shop. “I still feel like I have so much to learn before I graduate.”

  “A lot of it is experience,” Callan said. “I didn’t learn all this in any school. Takes years of doing it every day to think of all the angles. Even then, I’m flying blind much of the time. Operating on hunches.” He shrugged. “That’s the job.”

  “Do you interact with wardens on a regular basis?” I asked.

  “More often than I’d like,” he said. “I’m a werewolf, so fighting for territory is in my nature. Throw a warden onto my turf and I’m that much worse.”

  “Good thing I’m planning to be an Enforcer of the East.”

  His mouth quirked. “We’ve got League werewolves in the Eastern Quadrant, too, you know.”

  A car pulled up in front of Toppers and a young man emerged from the passenger seat with a garment bag flipped over his shoulder. He didn’t look older than eighteen. He disappeared into the shop while the car idled out front. A middle-aged woman sat behind the wheel, singing to herself. The windows were up, so I couldn’t hear which song.

  “A mom and son,” Callan said. “I bet he’s out in less than two minutes.”

  He was. The customer left the shop in about ninety seconds and returned to his mother’s car. Job done.

  “Nothing to see there,” I said, disappointed.

  “Nope,” Callan agreed.

  “Do you own a tuxedo?” I asked.

  Callan chuckled. “Where’d that come from?”

  I gestured to the shop below. “Seems like an appropriate question.”

  “No, I don't. Never had a reason to wear one. We don't have the same rites of passage as humans.”

  “That's not completely true,” I said. “There are similariti
es. Graduation. Dances.” I wondered whether all the victims had rented or bought their tuxedos from this place. My gut told me the answer was yes.

  Callan peered up at me. “Do you like to dance?”

  His question took me by surprise. “Um, I don’t know. I guess.”

  “You guess? You sound like someone who’s never danced before. You either do or you don’t.”

  “I used to enjoy dancing with my siblings,” I said. “We would make up our own choreography.” I paused, remembering. “Well, technically I would make up the moves and they would do as they were told.”

  “You seem like a tight-knit family,” he said. “Like a pack.”

  My smile faded. “We were…once.”

  He wagged a finger at me. “That’s not the first time you mentioned your family and then got all droopy.” Callan patted the empty space beside him. “Why don’t you sit and talk to me about it? We’ve got time to kill. That’s the essence of a stakeout.”

  I eyed the edge of the rooftop. “I’m good back here, thanks.”

  Callan popped to his feet. “Then I’ll talk to you at your level.” He looked down at me and laughed. “Okay, maybe sitting on the roof was more at your level.”

  I swatted his arm. “No short jokes!”

  He laughed and threw his arms up to defend himself “You’re petite, right? Petite.”

  A smile burst from inside me. Something about Callan’s manner put me at ease. Even when he teased me about sensitive topics, I didn’t truly mind. He made me laugh and that was a rare find. My roommates equated me with sunshine, positive thinking, and maternal instincts, but not belly laughs.

  “So what’s the deal?” he asked. “Don’t tell me a badass like you is afraid of heights.”

  “Not afraid. Just out of my comfort zone. I like my feet on the ground.”

  “Same. It’s the wolf in me. What’s your excuse?”

  I folded my arms. “What do you think? I’m an earth witch. I’m at my best when I’m directly connected. The higher up I go, the more interference there is.”

  “One of my favorite things is to run through the forest in my wolf form. It’s the most freeing feeling in the world.” He nudged me with his elbow. “How about you? Got a favorite witchy thing you do?”