Druid Magic (Druid Academy Book 1)

by C. S. Churton

  I grabbed Stormclaw’s saddle from its rack and slid it onto his back, taking care not to trap any of his feathers, or brush any of his hairs the wrong way. Watching out for his front claws, one of which was impatiently scratching at the floor in his stall, I ducked under his belly and tightened the girth strap. The last thing I wanted was the saddle to slip and leave me clinging to my mount’s underside like some sort of circus monkey.

  “Alright, boy,” I said, stroking his glistening neck feathers and working a dead one loose. “This is our big moment. Just… don’t drop me, okay?”

  He tossed his head, ruffling his plumage and puffing out his chest.

  “Come on, then, let’s go.”

  I slipped my hand into his head collar, and led him from his stall into the paddock. The rest of the team were already out and warming up, and in the distance a cheer went up, as either Earth or Water scored a goal. A shiver ran through me, raising goosebumps on my arms. In a short while, their game would end, and then it would be us the crowd were cheering. One game to determine the winners of the cup: it was all or nothing.

  I drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly, then scrambled up into the saddle. I gave Stormclaw a quick scratch on his shoulders, then clenched my calf muscles. He took off at a slow lope, circling the perimeter of the paddock. I let him do his own thing for a while, stretching out his muscles and shaking out his wings, while I loosened off my own muscles and shook the fear from my mind. His scent filled my nostrils as we cantered round in his odd gait, feeling the pump of each one of his legs driving us forward. His wings flexed on either side as the wind whistled through his flight feathers. My hips relaxed and my legs stretched downwards, taking up the contact against his warm, feather-covered body. It felt good to be back on the gryff, the one place I felt truly at home. Forget the game, forget the cup, forget the whole academy: this was what I was born to do.

  Except it wasn’t quite that easy to forget, I admitted wryly to myself, after half a dozen blissful laps. Reluctantly, I picked up the reins and guided him over to where the rest of the team were tossing a ball around. If I wanted to keep riding, it’d probably be a good idea to check I hadn’t forgotten how to catch a ball without breaking any fingers.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “And please show your appreciation as the Fire team enter the field!”

  The voice of the commentator rang in my ears, muffled only slightly by the helmet strapped to my head. The rest of team trotted out in front of me, while the commentators – Finn, from Earth element, and Adam from Water – announced them to the gathered crowd.

  “After a one-one draw between Earth and Water, there is everything to play for. If the winning team score two or more goals, they will take the cup for this year.”

  “First up is Logan Walsh, riding Dartalon, and from the look on his face, he knows what’s at stake. This is his second-year riding on the team, and his first time captaining it. He’ll be playing centre by the looks of it today. Excellent rider.”

  “You’re not wrong, Finn,” Adam said. “It’s a real shame his team hasn’t had more chances to show us what they’re made of. And here we have Josh Saunders, riding Riverquil in the right attack position, and Darren Wilcox on Lightning riding left attack.”

  “Next we have the two defenders, Caleb Armstrong on Swiftsky and Liu Zung on Ironclaw. This will be Zung’s third and final season and she’ll be wanting to make it a good one.”

  “Every team needs a keeper, and here comes theirs – it’s Seb Foster riding Blackstar, and he’s really got something to prove today after last season’s performance.”

  “He has, indeed. Some people have questioned Walsh’s decision to keep him on the team – will he redeem himself this afternoon?”

  “And last but not least, we have the two outriders. Taking left wing is Mason Fuller on Ghost – last season was plagued by lameness, Finn, let’s hope the long rest has done his gryff some good.”

  “And there she is, Adam, the one everyone’s been talking about. Lyssa Eldridge. A first year, some would say an outsider, raised away from the druidic world.”

  “That’s right, Finn, she hadn’t even heard of Itealta this time last year. Let’s hope she’s had time to learn the rules.”

  I shot a glare at the commentary box; was this guy for real? From the looks on some of my teammates’ faces, I was sure I hadn’t been the only one who’d caught his snarky tone. We’d show him.

  “Come on, Stormclaw,” I muttered as the rest of the team took to the air, and Logan led us on a circuit past the spectators in stands.

  “But it’s not just Eldridge that will be setting tongues wagging today. Some of you might recognise her mount – that’s Stormclaw she’s riding. Many a student here can attest to his fiery nature.”

  “Indeed they can,” Adam agreed. “Will he prove too much for his novice rider?”

  Novice indeed! I tucked my chin and fought the urge to cut away from the flyby and give Adam a very personal demonstration of just how fiery my boy could be when someone rubbed him the wrong way. The team finished their loop of the pitch and came down to land in centre of the field. I took Stormclaw down with them, bringing him to a halt at the end of the semi-circle the team had formed.

  “And here come the Air team,” Adam announced, his amplified voice bouncing around the arena. “Undoubtedly the favourites for this particular match.”

  “But let’s not forget,” Finn added brightly, “Everyone loves an underdog.”

  I leaned sideways in my saddle towards Mason.

  “Did he just call me a dog?”

  Mason sniggered. The commentators carried on announcing the Air team – captain Mark Bolton, then Lindsay Bartlett and Noah Howell, but I’d stopped listening. The crowd were cheering in the stands, which accommodated every student from the academy and had space to spare. They ran round the entire rectangular grass-covered pitch, and reached up fifty foot in the air. The pitch itself was long and wide, and bore eight rocky platforms. At either end was a vertical hoop atop a long metal pole, big enough that the ball would pass through it, but small enough that it made for a tricky shot when you were riding a creature straight out of mythology through the skies.

  The umpire – Professor Alden, mounted on a pure white gryff wearing a red ribbon around her chest and holding the Itealta ball in one hand – blew her whistle, the sound echoing round the arena.

  “Starting positions!” she called.

  I nudged Stormclaw and we flew up onto the platform at the far right and centre of the field, facing our hoop. Mahto on her impressive chestnut gryff landed next to us. It was the first time I’d seen her up close. I just hoped that she wasn’t as good as everyone said. She shot me a smile, her brown eyes sparkling with excitement, and she stretched her hand out to me.

  “Looking forward to trouncing you, Eldridge.”

  I reached over and shook her hand with a grin.

  “Hope your game is as good as your mouth, Mahto.”

  Alden blew her whistle again, and threw the ball up in the air. I was still watching to see where it would land when Mahto launched herself forward, her gryff leaping easily from the rock.

  “Dammit,” I muttered, and pressed my hands against Stormclaw. He leapt into the air after the chestnut gryff, a full two lengths behind.

  “And Mahto is off to a flying start,” Finn said. “She doesn’t miss a trick.”

  “She certainly doesn’t, Finn. Eldridge will have to get up earlier in the morning if she wants to get the drop on her more experienced opposite number.”

  I gritted my teeth and shook his voice from my head, just as Mahto leaned out of her saddle and snatched up the ball from the floor. Her gryff kicked off the ground back into the air, flying straight for their hoop.

  “Come on, Stormclaw!” I felt his wings beat harder and we rocketed through the sky after them, but Logan was already alongside her, reaching out with both hands to rip the ball from her.

  “Oh! And that was an
impressive take by Logan Walsh for Fire. Mahto does not look happy, but he’s already offloaded the ball.”

  “Armstrong. Now Fuller. To Zung, and– What an interception that was, Mahto is unstoppable today!”

  “Air are in possession. Bartlett. Howell. Here comes Mahto on the wing, she’s got the ball, she’s racing towards the hoop, can Foster get there in time to stop her? No, he can’t! Goal!”

  “Goal to Air team, well done Mahto. What an excellent piece of riding.”

  I gritted my teeth and turned Stormclaw back to our plinth. It had been an excellent piece of riding, but we were supposed to be the ones to stop her, and we’d been two lengths behind. Again. Mahto landed beside us, grinning widely, her cheeks flushed with exhilaration.

  I nodded to her, then twisted round in my saddle, watching Alden bringing the ball into the centre of the pitch. I wasn't going to be caught napping this time. I relaxed my shoulders, and the moment the ball left her hand, clenched my calves against Stormclaw and pushed my hands forward. He threw himself forward, a half length in front of Mahto. I caught a glimpse of the surprise on her face and smiled grimly to myself as I put us into a dive, right down to the ball. Forget staying on the wing; if Mahto wasn't going to do that, then I couldn't afford to, either.

  Stormclaw’s talons touched the ground, and a split second later, his hooves thudded behind them. I gripped the saddle horn and leaned right down, stretching out my fingertips, and– Dammit! A hand grabbed the ball, and I looked up into Mahto’s grinning face as her gryff climbed back into the air.

  “An impressive steal by Mahto,” Adam said. “Just goes to show that having the fastest gryff doesn’t count for everything.”

  I barely even heard the criticism as I urged Stormclaw after Mahto, but by the time I’d reached her, she’d already tossed the ball to one of her teammates. Caleb was hot on his tail, so I eased Stormclaw back and stuck close to Mahto as she moved back out onto the wing. If I couldn’t grab the ball before her, maybe I could use our greater speed to keep her away from it.

  She swung inwards from the wing as the ball came down the centre of the pitch and I raced after her.

  “Down!” I called to Stormclaw, ducking low against his neck as we flew right under Mahto, narrowly avoiding her mount’s talons. I saw the look of confusion on her face as we disappeared from view, and then we were rising up on her inside, blocking her from getting to the rest of her team.

  “Morley has possession for Air, but Fire have him cut off from the hoop. He’s looking for Mahto – where is Mahto?”

  Mahto wheeled away in a sharp circle, but rather than sticking with her and going round her outside, I pulled Stormclaw in the opposite direction, mirroring her movement and keeping myself between her and the game. She dove at the ground and we followed. She hadn’t seen the ball. With a flash of intuition I knew exactly what she was planning – springboarding off the ground and hoping to use her superior riding skills to shake me. I pulled Stormclaw up a few feet before she landed, and rose up again with her, still side by side with her chestnut beast. She shot me a glare of frustration, but I didn’t respond, too focussed on anticipating her gryff’s movements.

  “It looks like Eldridge has got Mahto’s number,” Finn announced, and I couldn’t help but notice he sounded just a little impressed. A fierce stab of pride ran through me. “She’s neutralised Air’s best weapon.”

  “She’ll have to learn a few new tricks if she hopes to keep it up.”

  “Fumble by Air! Loose ball on the floor, both captains are diving down for it.”

  “Bolton has grabbed the ball for Air, he’s got his eyes on the hoop, but Logan isn’t going to let him past, he’s between him and the hoop and he’s riding straight at him. They’re going to collide…”

  “Oooh! So close, they miss each other by a feather, and it looks like Bolton has lost his balance! Fuller’s coming up on his inside for Fire, and look out, here comes Wilcox... Can he… Yes! Wilcox has snatched the ball from him! What an excellent execution of the liotus manoeuvre!”

  “Logan. Saunders. Back to Logan, he’s approaching the hoop…

  “He shoots… he scores! A fantastic equaliser for Fire. One all as we head into half time.”

  By the time Alden blew her whistle to signal half-time, both our mounts were covered in a sheen of sweat, but Mahto hadn’t managed to slip past me. I landed at our end of the pitch with the rest of my team, hopping off Stormclaw’s back and leading him over to one of the buckets of water someone had brought out, then grabbing a bottle for myself. Blocking Mahto was taking it out of us both.

  “Excellent work, Lyssa,” Logan said, clapping me on the back so hard I choked on my water. “If you can keep Mahto out of the game, we might just beat them.”

  He turned to Darren.

  “Great job on the liotus. We’re got them on the run now. Watch your flanks and don’t give them the chance to slip through us. We’ve got this! Come on!”

  We cheered loudly, and vaulted back onto our gryffs, then circled them back round to our plinths. Mahto was already waiting for me, watching me with new respect.

  “Nice riding,” she acknowledged curtly.

  “You, too,” I said, and meant it.

  The whistle blew and the ball flew up into the air, and the pair of us took off as one. I raced the length of the field alongside her, forcing her to fly wide towards the crowd and blocking her from the action. I could feel Stormclaw flying more slowly beneath me; this was taking a toll on him. For a moment I thought Mahto’s beast would beat us purely on fitness, but then I spotted his neck stretching just a little less as he flew; a sure sign he was tiring, too.

  I barely registered the rest of the game as I faced-off against the chestnut gryff, trying to outsmart his more experienced rider at every turn. Even the commentators’ voices were blotted out as I focussed every ounce of my attention on the pair, spinning and twisting, ducking down and rising back up again in some elaborate ballet of the skies. Occasionally we drifted closer to the crowds and their ‘oohs’ and ‘aahhs’ punched through my laser focus, and then it was just me and Mahto again, locked in our aerial dance. With just five minutes left in the game, neither side had scored again, and Mahto had failed at every attempt to break through my block. Maybe it made me complacent.

  “She’s done it!” Adam roared. “Mahto has broken through Eldridge’s wall and she is going after the ball!”

  She had. It took my brain a moment to catch up – she’d just used my own move against me and ducked right under us – and by the time it had, she was already three lengths ahead of us.

  “Dammit! Come on, Stormclaw! One last push!”

  I urged him forwards with everything I had, and I felt him dig deep and respond. Suddenly Mahto was only two lengths ahead of me, then one, then I was passing her and diving at the ball.

  “Just look at that, Adam. Eldridge is streaking across the pitch, I’ve never seen anyone move so fast, and she’s got her eyes on the prize!”

  As Stormclaw’s talons touched down, I threw myself sideways from the saddle, hooking my right knee behind the saddlehorn and stretching right down for the ball. My fingers clenched around its metal handle and Stormclaw’s hooves thumped into the ground, almost throwing me from the saddle, and then he was springing back into the air. The movement slung me back into my saddle and we were racing through the skies again. Both my hands were gripping the ball like my life depended on it and I steered Stormclaw with just my body.

  “What a pick-up! Have you ever seen anything like it?” Finn shouted. “We’re into the final seconds of the game. Go on, Eldridge!”

  The other riders blurred in my periphery as we raced past them, ducking this way and that to keep out of their reach. And there is was, right ahead of me. The hoop.

  “Come on, Stormclaw!” I screamed. “Go. Go!”

  We raced the other riders and the clock, bearing down on the hoop. It was now or never.

  I lifted the ball up, sucked in a hasty b
reath, and threw it with all my strength. Time seemed to slow down as it soared through the air towards the hoop. The whole arena fell silent as we watched the ball.

  “Goal!” screamed Finn. “She’s done it, the ball is through the hoop, she’s scored!”

  Alden’s whistle sounded in three long blasts.

  “The match is over! Fire two, Air one, Fire win, Fire take the cup!”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The celebrations continued long into the night, though truth be told I couldn’t remember anything that happened much past nine. I did recall half of Fire element carrying me back to our common room on their shoulders, and the other half passing the cup around, cheering wildly.

  When I woke the following morning, I felt like I’d been hit by a dragon. There wasn’t a single muscle in my body that wasn’t aching, and I had a few dozen fresh bruises – though whether those were from the match, or the afterparty, I couldn’t have said.

  “Come on, Lyssa, let’s go!”

  I stretched on my bed and yawned loudly, rolling my head to one side to squint at Kelsey through bleary eyes.

  “Hurry up!”

  She tossed some clothes in my direction.

  “Where’s the fire?” I mumbled.

  “We’re getting our exam results. Come on!”

  I was instantly wide awake, a flutter on panic stirring in my stomach.

  “That’s today?”

  “Yes! They’re handing them out first thing at breakfast, and if you don’t get a move on, we’re going to be late.”

  “Alright, I’m up, I’m up.”

  It was a couple of minutes until I was, in fact, up and dressed, by which time Kelsey was bouncing from foot to foot in front of the door.

  “Don’t know what you’re in such a hurry for,” I grumbled. “We already know you passed everything.”

  She gave me a sympathetic smile.