Charm School (The Demon's Apprentice Book 4)

by Ben Reeder

  CHARM

  SCHOOL

  BEN REEDER

  Charm School

  Copyright © 2016 Ben Reeder

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons or entities is strictly coincidental.

  Cover art by Angela Gulick Design.

  Published through Outlaw Lit.

  Other books by Ben Reeder:

  The Demon’s Apprentice series:

  The Demon’s Apprentice

  Page of Swords

  Vision Quest

  The Zompoc Survivor series:

  Zompoc Survivor: Exodus

  Zompoc Survivor: Inferno

  Zompoc Survivor: Odyssey

  Dedication:

  Mikayela, Isabella, Emmett, Wyatt and Bennett: The best group of little grandmunchkins a man could ever ask for.

  Acknowledgements:

  One more done, Randi, that couldn’t have happened without your unwavering support. And to Dora, my furry gray writing assistant, protégé to Musaba, who still maintains editorial control.

  Special thanks go out to Angela Gulick, for making the last minute changes to the cover. As always, you never fail to amaze me and exceed every expectation.

  Thank you to Marguerite Reed and Lawrence M. Schoen for getting me to NorWesCon and helping make it so productive, respectively. Congratulations, Marguerite!

  For the awesome folks at Meta-Games Unlimited, thanks for letting me hang out and use your wifi.

  Chapter 1

  ~ When a mortal says they want things to be ‘fair,’ they really just want to win. ~ advice given to a young demon.

  Wizards aren’t supposed to be whiny. But Dr. Corwyn was getting close to it. I could feel Shade’s shoulders shake under my arm as she snickered quietly. Wanda was carefully looking at something on the far edge of the platform, but Mom looked like she wasn’t about to spare his dignity. Even with dozens of people around us on the transit platform, her expression said she was ready to lay into him. Junkyard didn’t offer an opinion. He was on an adventure, which was pretty much any time he wasn’t at home or Dr. C’s place. Any opportunity to mark a new part of the world as his was a good thing, as far as he was concerned.

  “This is what I could afford,” I growled in response to his latest complaint. In front of us was a teleportation platform, its triple rings dormant and upright. Around it was a series of runes, and the stone floor was inscribed with magickal symbols.

  “Master Draeden offered to fly us up on his private jet,” Dr. C said. “For free. We’d be there in a matter of hours, and we’d fly in comfort.”

  “No,” I told him again. “I don’t want to owe him any favors. And believe me, he’d think he was doing me a favor.” Dr. C’s lips pressed tight together as he looked at me, then he nodded.

  “You’re right about that,” he said after a moment, his tone resigned. “You do know you’re making it harder on yourself though, right?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I know you get sick when you teleport. I’ll deal with it.”

  “Then so will I … again.” I nodded, willing the memories of his troubles with teleportation back into the box I’d built for them. Ahead of us, a group of Dwarves in gray business suits stepped onto the platform, handing tickets to the man at the opening in the waist high railing as they passed him.

  “Last call for Denver Commons. Dennnnver Commons, transiting in three minutes. Last call!” As he finished, a woman in a flowing green dress came bustling up with two boys trailing from each hand.

  “Denver Commons, that’s us,” she said as she let go of the boys’ hands and dug in her purse. Moments later, she produced three tickets and thrust them at the man. He took them and gave them a quick glance, then nodded and gestured for her to go on. She grabbed the two boys by the hand again and stepped forward.

  “Mom, do we have to take the transit platform?” one of the boys asked. “Barry always gets sick.” The other boy was turning a little green around the edges, and the woman’s eyes went wide.

  “Oh, hell,” the mother spat and rushed to the edge of the platform to grab something from a wooden box and hustled back to her sons. “I’m glad you reminded me.” The Dwarves shuffled over a little as she returned and handed the less enthusiastic looking boy the paper bag she’d taken from the box. The man at the edge of the railing stepped back and went to a control panel by the upright rings.

  “Transiting to Denver Commons,” he called out as he manipulated the levers on the panel. “Stand clear of the platform! Stand clear of the yellow line.” The nested rings started to spin with a metallic rasp, then the two inner rings rotated on their axis until they were horizontal, leaving a dark blue glow in their wake. A moment later, the inner most ring rotated along the second ring’s axis, creating a third axis. The rings started to hum as the dark blue energy obscured the inside of the transit platform. Finally, the first ring stopped, with a rune glowing. The horizontal ring slowed to a stop a few seconds later, a different rune glowing over our heads at the spot where it intersected with the third ring. Finally, the inner most ring stopped, and I could see the glow of a rune at the top of the rings. The glow pulsed brighter for a moment, then disappeared completely, revealing an empty platform. Dee gave a squeal of delight as the rings slowly started to return to their original position.

  “Can I go with them?” she asked. “I wanna teleport!”

  “Not today, sis,” I said. “I only bought two tickets. But you and Mom can come up some time.”

  “There is a Parent’s Day every month or so,” Dr. C said. “And students can earn off campus passes for weekends.”

  “Liberty Plaza,” the transit operator called out. “Ten minutes to transit to Liberty Plaza. All on the platform for Boston.”

  “That’s us,” I said. I squeezed Shade a little closer for a moment, and her arms tightened around my ribs.

  “I’m going to miss you,” she said for about the thousandth time.

  “You know I’m going to be crazy without you,” I said as I kissed her.

  “Promise to wither away and die?” she asked.

  “I’ll even write depressing poetry about how much I miss you every day.”

  “And I’ll lock myself in my room for at least a month and mope,” Shade giggled.

  “Could you two get any more dysfunctional?” Wanda asked, adding an eyeroll for emphasis.

  “Still a better love story than-” Dr. C started to say. Wanda’s elbow in his ribs cut off the comment.

  “Okay, now that the Codepency Channel’s off the air, Lucas sent something for you. He said you’re not supposed to open it until you’ve got your room set up.” She handed me a black gift bag from Lucas’s grandfather’s store, Mitternacht’s Books. “We’re gonna miss having you around to make things interesting. Hopefully, no one tries to destroy the city while you’re gone,’ she said as she hugged me.

  “I’m sure you guys can handle it,” I said as I wrapped her in a hug.

  “Great,” Wanda said with a grin. “Now you’ve pretty much made sure something is going to happen while you’re gone. We’ll be stuck trying to make it an episode where you come back right after we beat the Big Bad and we act all cool like nothing happened, instead of one where you have to rescue us at the last minute from our own stupidity.”

 
“I got you something, too,” Shade said with a sly smile as she pressed something into my hand. When I looked down, I saw a sleek phone laying on my palm.

  “Baby, I can’t afford this,” I said as I tried to push it back into her hands.

  “I can,” Shade said, her smile turning a little feral as she closed my hand around the phone. “And it’s not for you. It’s for me. I want to see your face when we talk. I want to talk to you for hours and not have your minutes run out in the middle. And I want you to have something that’s just between us.”

  “Like I don’t already,” I whispered. Her hand came up and touched the center of my chest, where the vial with several drops of her blood hung from a leather thong. One with filled with my blood was nestled between her breasts, both given under a waxing moon, so our love would only grow. I leaned in and kissed her, then stepped back.

  “Why is it I keep saying goodbye to you every time I turn around?” Mom asked when I turned to her.

  “Because life sucks,” I said. Both our voices were a little rougher than we wanted anyone else to hear, but I wasn’t about to go all stoic and stiff-upper lipped on Mom. Dee put her arms around my waist and held tight for a few moments, then turned and shrugged the straps of her purple backpack off her shoulders. At least today it almost went with the plain blue t-shirt she had on. Lately, she’d taken to wearing plain shirts, refusing to wear even her Dr. Hooves t-shirt, which I was pretty sure was her favorite shirt ever.

  “Take Pyewacket with you,” she said as she pulled the black stuffed animal from her pack. “I’d give you Dr. Hooves, but I need him if you’re not home.”

  “I’m sure he’ll keep me safe,” I said as I took the black cat. It had a little hand-made wizard’s hat sewed to its head now, and wore a little pewter pendant with symbols carved into it.

  “I don’t recognize these symbols,” I said as I went to one knee.

  “I made them up,” Dee said. I almost heard Dr. C’s shoulders unknot. “That one’s so you don’t have bad dreams, that one is for protection, and that one is so you don’t have too much homework.”

  I hugged her tight, and tucked Pyewacket into my backpack next to Lucas’s gift bag. “I hope that last one works really well,” I told her before I stood up and hugged Mom.

  “Everything I can give you, I already have,” she said as she took my hand in hers. “The gifts of my bloodline, the love of a mother, and a home to return to when your travels are done. I’m proud of you, Chance.” I choked up for a moment, so all I could do was hug her to me.

  “I won’t let you down,” I said when I pulled back. Mom smiled and shook her head.

  “You never have,” she said.

  “The gate’s open,” Dr. C said. I shrugged my backpack on, then grabbed the dolly that had my book trunk on it and wheeled it toward the opening in the railing. Dr. C wheeled the one with my clothes in it along behind me. Junkyard trotted along behind us, carrying his own luggage in the red harness vest that Mom had made for him. His food and water bowls were on either side, and his blanket was rolled up and tied to the harness across his shoulders, with a few little items in the backpack behind that. His most important possession, a big rawhide bone, he carried in his mouth. And as always, he wore his two bandanas around his thick neck. Once we had my stuff on the platform, I went back to the gate and gave one last round of hugs and kissed Shade.

  “Liberty Plaza, transiting in one minute!” the transit operator called out. I backed away from everyone.

  “You ready?” Dr. C asked when I reached him. I looked down and saw the paper bag he held in his hand.

  “No. Are you?”

  “Eh,” he said with a casual shrug. Junkyard looked up at us and thumped his tail. At least one of us was happy to be there.

  “Transiting to Liberty Plaza,” the operator called out. Dr. C nodded and turned so that he was facing away from me. His shoulders pressed against mine, and I felt his weight shift as his right hand went to his side, where a pistol would be if he was armed.

  “Old habits?” I asked.

  “Bare is the brotherless back,” he said as the world outside of the platform turned blue. Reality seemed to spin and lurch at the same time, while my mystic senses were bombarded by a scream of static. Then everything stopped at once, and that was almost as bad as the onslaught of sensation. My ears felt like they were cringing and I blinked like I’d just been flash-blinded. As disorienting as it had been, it was a lot smoother than some of the transits I’d made with Dulka to the various Infernal realms. Behind me, I could hear Dr. C moan and gulp.

  “You gonna make it, sir?” I asked.

  “Oddly enough…I think I will,” he said. “That’s a first.”

  The blue haze faded around us, and I was treated to my first sight of Liberty Plaza. Unlike New Essex’s Underground, Liberty Plaza was entirely open to the sky. The transit rings rotated back into position, and a man in a long coat and white knee breeches opened the gate set in the wrought iron fence that surrounded the platform.

  “Arriving, New Essex Underground,” he said. We grabbed my two trunks and wheeled them toward the gate as another man spoke up.

  “Preparing to depart, Capitol Greens,” the man on the opposite side of the platform said. First call, Puget Sound.” Junkyard and I followed Dr. C across the open space surrounding the transit platform as a mixed group waited on the other side to enter the transit stage. Most of the buildings were either white-washed wood or red brick. The one Dr. C led us to had a green sign above the door that read “Brannock’s Livery, Est. 1706” in gold letters. We muscled my trunks through the door, and almost immediately, a large man in a blue work shirt and jeans hustled out from behind the counter to help us.

  “Good afternoon,” he said as he gestured at the trunk Dr. C was pushing. “Welcome to Brannock’s. Where can we take you today?”

  “The Franklin Academy,” I said, reaching into my pocket for the pouch full of trade silver I carried. He turned and looked at me for a moment, then nodded and put a smile on his face.

  “We don’t get many going out to the Academy,” he said. His tone was carefully neutral, but I could see Dr. Corwin’s shoulders tense when the man stopped and turned to face us. The man nodded and took the trunk to the back, then came back for mine.

  “Is the dog going back with you?” he asked Dr. C after both trunks were stowed.

  “He’s my familiar,” I said. I turned to Junkyard and undid his harness. “It’s okay, buddy. Let him take the bone. You’ll get it back, I promise.” Junkyard gave me a long suffering look, then lowered his head and laid the rawhide bone at the man’s feet. The guy slowly bent over and picked the bone up then took the harness from me.

  “What’s so damn funny?” I asked Dr. C while the livery keeper took Junkyard’s stuff back. He was grinning like he’d just heard a dirty joke with a pun for a punch line.

  “It’s just funny when people underestimate you,” he said.

  “As long as you’re enjoying yourself,” I muttered.

  “Immensely, my young apprentice,” he said. “Now, we have a little bit of shopping to do before we go. You still need a couple of books and your school uniforms.” I did my best not to groan at that, and if he heard me, he at least acted like he didn’t. We left the livery with the time we’d be going to the Academy, and Dr. C led me toward Hobart’s Haberdashery. Like most of the shops in the Plaza, the only thing that stood out about it was its sign, and even that wasn’t very original. The name was split up in an over and under style on a white oval, with a spool and crossed needles taking center space. Other than that, it could have been any of the three story red brick buildings. My first impression of Boston was a boring one.

  A bell rang somewhere in the shop as we came in, and a stooped little man with thin black hair that was combed over the blank acreage on top of his head emerged from the back. Dr. C handed him his card as he walked up, and the man just about simpered at us.

  “Ah, Wizard Corwin,” the little man
said in a breathy voice that sounded like a passable Peter Lorre impression. He offered one limp little hand to Dr. C, who took it just long enough to give a perfunctory handshake. He nodded to me, then lowered his hand for Junkyard to sniff, which of course earned him the dog’s approval and a few points in my book. “So good to see you again. Apprentice Fortunato’s uniforms are ready. Shall I have them sent ahead to the Academy?”

  “We’ll take one now,” Dr. Corwin said as he wiped his hand on his pant leg. “Have the rest sent ahead, if you please. I’ll handle payment via a draft from Bjernings, as agreed.”

  “Of course, of course,” Mr. Hobart wheezed. “So good to see a wizard who still knows the value of tradition. So many apprentices bound for Franklin don’t have a proper master to teach them. These past few decades, it’s been all tutors and family expense accounts. No one properly overseeing their students.” He shook his head as he went to a rack of hanging clothes and started checking tags. About midway through, he stopped and pulled a black suit out, then returned to us with it half draped over his arm. The Franklin Academy crest was on the left breast pocket, and a dark red tie with broad black stripes bordered in white was draped around the hanger. I took the suit, and he offered Dr. C a black box. “You’ll find such accessories as needed to turn your young apprentice out in proper style for today inside. And of course, once he is properly settled, you can order accessories to match his house affiliation.”

  “Of course,” Dr. C said with a smile. “We’ll notify you as soon as we know.”

  “Houses?” I asked under my breath as we headed for the dressing room.

  “Yes, each dormitory is under the house system. You’ll be assigned to one house the entire time you’re there.”

  “Sounds a lot like-”

  “Yes, it does. Only without that stupid hat. And there’s no cup at the end of the year.”