Charm School (The Demon's Apprentice Book 4)

by Ben Reeder

  Once we got to our floor, I noticed one thing that was different already: a row of cushions and perches was arranged outside of each classroom, and several animals were already lounging on them.

  “Looks like you’re gonna be waiting this class out in comfort,” I said as we walked down the hallway. Junkyard responded with a messy sounding sneeze. “So it’s like that, huh?” He sneezed again. Then we were in front of the room I was looking for, and he turned to an empty cushion and laid down, giving me puppy eyes as he laid his head on his paws. The moment I opened the heavy wooden door, I understood why familiars stayed outside.

  Alchemy isn’t what most wizards would call a neat discipline. Part chemistry, part magick and part culinary art, it combined all of the messiest aspects of all three to create some of the most spectacular effects I’d ever seen. The rare healing draught that my former master Dulka had kept on hand were still some of the most disturbing concoctions I’d ever experienced; feeling bones shift and body parts move in the healing process were the only thing worse than the horrendous taste of the damn things. All of that should have prepared me for the smell that hit my nose the moment I opened the door. The pungent odor made my nose wrinkle up, even as weak as it was. I could only imagine what Junkyard’s nose would have made of it.

  I had done enough alchemy that they’d stuck me in a third level class, which put me in with a bunch of students who were my age or the next year older. I looked for an empty seat at one of the lab tables, and saw Stewart the Head Boy gesturing for me to join his table. I shrugged and headed that way. It never hurt to get in good with people in power, even if that power was limited to one residence hall. What was important was that it was my residence hall.

  “It’ll be fine,” Stewart was saying as I sat down on the tall wooden stool. My back was to the door, which I hated, but it was the only seat left at the table. “Chance is a good fellow. Don’t you mind the rumors. I know better. Our man Chance here is the guardian of the Maxilla Asini itself. Isn’t that right, Chance?”

  “If I was,” I said carefully, “I wouldn’t be allowed to say anything about it.” That got a belly laugh from Stewart and the other guy at the table, while the girl across from me giggled without seeming too dedicated to it.

  “But,” Stewart leaned forward and glanced both ways, “You also wouldn’t be able to lie about it.”

  “Where are you getting all of this?” I asked. “Like you said, it isn’t something I could just talk about.”

  “My father has friends on the High Council,” Stewart said. “The Hampton name carries a lot of weight with some of the Council members.”

  “So you’re Fortunato,” the guy across the table said. “Lance Huntington. This is my girlfriend, Ginger.” He put his hand out and I took it. We played a microsecond game of Who-has-the-better-grip, then he sat down and leaned back. The usual tingle of power that I felt whenever I touched someone with magick ability lingered on my skin. I also nodded to Ginger and put my hand out. She looked at it for a moment, then took it briefly and let go, her expression neutral the whole time. I looked down at my hand, hardly believing what I had just experienced. Where Lance had registered about like most mages I’d met, Ginger’s touch had felt like grabbing live wire by comparison. She was the stronger of the two by far. I felt the subtle shift as the door opened and the teacher came into the room.

  “Good morning, class. I’m Professor Talbot,” the man said. He was tall, cadaverously thin and tanned. He reached into his coat and pulled out a pair of thin glasses, opening them with a flick of his wrist. Slowly, he slid them on, his dark eyes scanning left and right until the glasses came to rest on the narrow beak of his nose. Thin, dark eyebrows furrowed together as he pulled out a black notebook and opened it.

  “We’ll skip the formalities of roll call, as I can see that we have twenty seats filled, and twenty students in the class, so I believe it’s safe to conclude that everyone is here. Now, class, is this inductive or deductive reasoning?” Dead silence spread through the room, and I could see people at other tables glancing at each other.

  “Mister Fortunato, deductive or inductive?”

  “Uh, inductive, I think,” I said.

  “You think?” Talbot said, his tone getting sharp. “In alchemy, there is no room for ‘I think.’ No room for uncertainty when you are mixing chemicals and reactants. You had better know. What. You. Are. Doing!” Soft laughter filled the air, and Talbot’s eyes narrowed.

  “You’re amused. That’s nice. So, let’s assume Mister Fortunato’s guess was correct. Now tell me why. Mister Hines.” Hines, a soft featured guy with aristocratic looks, looked over at me then back at the instructor.

  “Should we assume he’s correct, sir?” Hines said with a casual smile. “Or should we be certain he’s right?”

  “Nice try. Try that kind of evasive nonsense in political science. Any volunteers?” One girl raised her hand, but Talbot pointed to another guy. “Mister Howerton? No? Very well. I shall explain. Inductive reasoning takes two things and assumes they are connected. There are twenty people in the classroom, therefore everyone who is enrolled is present. The assumption is that all twenty people in the classroom are also enrolled. Deductive reasoning would use statements that connected two sets. For instance, there are twenty juniors at Franklin Academy. There are twenty juniors in the class room. Therefore, all of the juniors are in the classroom. However, if any of you had done the assigned reading from your syllabuses last night, you would also have known that my previous statement could also have been abductive reasoning. So, let’s see if you can disappoint me for a third time, and complete the shame you’re all bringing on your houses. Try to tell me why it would be abductive reasoning.” When no one raised their hand right away, I slowly raised mine.

  “Seeking redemption Mister Fortunato? Very well, are you certain?”

  “Yes, sir. With abductive reasoning, the conclusion is the most likely one, because it’s the simplest.”

  “Please, do tell me what makes that true,” Talbot said with a sneer.

  “Requires the fewest assumptions or actions to be true,” I said, remembering Detective Collins’ explanation. “If your conclusion wasn’t true, that would mean someone would have to either be in the wrong class and too embarrassed to admit it, or someone is here impersonating someone else. Or something like that. Simplest explanation is that everyone is here who is supposed to be here. Basically, it’s a guess that could be wrong, but it’s the most likely conclusion because it’s the simplest.”

  “Hmm, not the most scientific of answers,” Talbot said, “but sufficient to avoid a demerit. If you haven’t figured it out by now, at this level of alchemy, we’ll be concentrating more on the finer points of the exact science that is alchemy, and less on basic brewing and mixing. By the end of the semester, you’ll be able to create a formula of your own. Perhaps one of you will go on to create something worthwhile someday. Now, since none of you did the reading last night, let’s catch up. Turn to page seventeen in your texts for the section on alchemical theory.” Stewart leaned in close to me as I pulled my textbook out of my backpack and laid it on the table.

  “Okay, how did you know that stuff?” he asked. I turned and looked at him.

  “It’s how cops think.”

  “Spend a lot of time behind bars, Fortunato?” Lance asked.

  “That’s beneath a Franklin man, Lance,” Stewart said. “We’re not petty.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Lance said. “Sorry, Fortunato.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I get that a lot. My master is an occult crimes consultant for the New Essex Police Department.” Lance’s face turned a little red and he muttered something before he buried his nose in his book. I followed suit, not wanting to end up on Talbot’s radar again. That lasted until the bell chimed to signal the end of class.

  “Fortunato,” he said as I headed for the door along with everyone else. I stopped and went to his desk. Without a word to me, he kept work
ing in his gradebook while the classroom emptied. Finally, the room was empty and quiet, but he still kept working.

  “You wanted to see me, sir?” I finally asked.

  “Are you aware of a little thing called classroom etiquette, Fortunato?” Talbot asked.

  “Not specifically, sir,” I said.

  “When an instructor calls on you, you are to acknowledge them immediately by name. So in this instance, you would have correctly answered ‘Yes, Professor Talbot.’ And then waited for me to speak. Is that clear, young man?”

  “Yes, Professor Talbot,” I said.

  “Good. Now, I was disappointed in your academic performance today. Of all people, you should have read the syllabus ahead of time and known there was assigned reading before class. You are among students who have always been held to a higher standard. As a scholarship student, I have higher expectations of performance for you than of the rest of the class, so I expect to see your performance improve dramatically.” I felt my face heating as he finished, and wondered why he wasn’t delivering this same lecture to the rest of the class. Hell, I’d done better than the rest of the class, and I was the one being told I was a disappointment.

  “I understand, sir,” I said, instead of protesting.

  “Good. You may go.” He turned back to his papers, and I couldn’t get out of the room fast enough. Junkyard fell in beside me as I headed for the stairs. When I hit the bottom landing, I found myself facing the connecting hall between Denham and the next building in the U. Going back in really didn’t appeal to me, so I headed down the walkway. There was a door in the middle of each connecting walkway, so I could just take it and go back to Jefferson Hall for lunch.

  As we got closer to the door, the sound of voices, pitched low but fast, reached our ears. Junkyard’s floppy ears perked up a little, and he looked at me with a little sound in the back of his throat.

  “Yeah, I’m curious too,” I said softly. I slowed as we approached the door. The voices were coming from the right, outside of the U. As we got closer, I could see that the door was slightly open. Through the glass, several people were visible. The first person I recognized was Lodge. Then I saw one of his cronies at the door, probably the lookout but too engrossed in what was going on to notice me.

  “Come on, fox boy,” Lodge said. “Cough it up.”

  “Cough what up?” Hoshi’s voice came from somewhere out of sight. Lodge moved, and there was an unpleasant sound of flesh on flesh.

  “Don’t play dumb with me, you slant-eyed little shit. Your pearl. Give it up or I’ll beat it out of you.”

  “Man, you got me all wrong,” Hoshi said with a laugh. “I don’t wear pearls. Not that it wouldn’t be a good look for you, with all that pale skin, but nothing but gold graces my extremities.”

  “Bullshit!” Lodge barked, and several more thumps followed. “All you little fox fuckers have a pearl. It protects whoever has it from your magick. Now cough it up before I make you puke it up!”

  I’d heard enough. Without another thought, I put my right shoulder to the door and pushed hard. Caught off guard, the guy on the other side went stumbling, and I gave him a little bit of an extra push as I went by. The other guy from the table last night moved toward me, but found himself facing a snarling Junkyard as I made it to Lodge. With a yell, I shoved him away from Hoshi. As he stumbled away from me, I realized that even with Junkyard and Hoshi, I was still outnumbered. I looked around to see several other kids closing in on us. Hoshi was kneeling by the trunk of a big tree that shaded us, and also gave us a little bit of coverage to our rear. I counted four more closing ranks in front of us.

  “Back off, Fortunato,” Lodge said as he got to his feet. “This is between me and Hoshi.”

  “You brought six friends,” I said as he came closer. “Seems like it isn’t as private as you say.”

  “Private enough that you’re not welcome,” Lodge said. “You don’t want to be on my bad side, plebe. Get the hell out of my way, and I’ll forget all about this.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Then every secret you have is gonna be mine.”

  “Trust me,” I said with a slow smile. “You don’t want to know my secrets.”

  “Oh, yeah? Why not?” Lodge asked.

  “My secrets will get ya killed,” I said. I heard Hoshi yell a warning, and then I was being tackled from behind. I twisted just enough to keep from doing a faceplant into the grass, but before I could recover, there were more hands on my arms, and my wand was being pulled out of my jacket. Upright and kneeling, I found myself face to face with Lodge.

  “Why don’t I hold onto that for you…for safe keeping,” he said as one of his cohorts handed him my wand. “Now, let’s see what’s inside that head of yours. You’ve heard of the Horus Gaze, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’ve done it a couple of times. Didn’t work out so well for the other guy. Besides a Horus Gaze goes both ways.” Lodge shook his head and his grin grew wider as he pulled a purple cloth pouch from his jacket pocket. He pulled a small circle of glass out of it, and I could see the glimmer of enchantment sigils around the outer edge. A gold frame ran around the edge, with raised wires attached to it, and a thin gold chain linked to the outer frame. After a few seconds, I realized he was holding a monocle.

  “Not with one of these,” he said as he held the monocle to his eye and pushed it into place. “My great grandfather had it made. The mind of a Lodge is sacrosanct. I won’t have rabble like you in it.” He closed the other eye and leaned in, his gaze intent, compelling…and ineffective. I felt the pressure of his mind against my mental defenses, almost like when Dr. Corwin had first tried it, just not as strong.

  “What the hell?” he blurted out when the Horus Gaze didn’t start.

  “My brain is a scary place,” I said. “And I don’t like letting random assholes into it.”

  “But…you can’t stop a Horus Gaze,” Lodge said.

  “Surprise! Yes, I can.”

  “You’re no match for me,” he sneered. “I’ve got centuries of magick in my blood.” He leaned closer and glared at me even harder, but the assault on my defenses didn’t get any stronger.

  “I kept a Count of Hell out of my head,” I said. “You’re only human.” Lodge’s eyes narrowed, but before he could say anything, someone called out, and suddenly, my arms were free, and people were scattering. Lodge’s head came up, then he looked around for a moment. I got to my feet to see Ginger pointing toward us from the door, with Stewart pushing it open and coming our way. Lodge reached for the monocle and turned away, but Stewart’s voice cut through the air like lightning.

  “Sterling Lodge, stay right there!” Lodge’s shoulder’s hunched up, and he turned to glare at me. “What’s going on here?”

  “Fortunato was just showing off his new wand,” Lodge said as he pulled my wand from his pocket and held it out to me. I grabbed it and tucked it back in my jacket.

  “Oh, is that what was going on here?” Stewart asked with a lopsided smile. “Because it looked to me like you were trying Horus Gaze him. We’ve had that talk before.”

  “Backoff, Stu,” Lodge said. “Fortunato here will tell you I didn’t do a Horus Gaze. Besides, who cares what happens to trash like these two?”

  “I do, Sterling,” Stewart said. “They’re in my house. Now, you can give me the monocle, or I can take this to my House Master.”

  “I’m not giving this up to anyone,” Lodge said, holding up the pouch for emphasis. “It’s been in my family for generations.”

  “We’ll mail it back to your parents, and we’ll say it got packed by mistake. It won’t go any further than that. Otherwise, I have to report it. I really don’t want to, but I will if I have to.”

  Lodge didn’t say anything for a moment, and I could see the thoughtful look on his face. I could imagine the gears turning in his head as he weighed his options, but even a goon like him could see the end result. Forcing a Horus Gaze was considered a violation of the
First Law, a breach of free will. My own use of it against Dominic King had been overlooked because he wasn’t human, and he’d been doing his best to kill me at the time. Even so, it was still high on a long list of sins I’d committed, even if it might have fallen under the broad caveat of “for the greater good.” For Lodge, being reported for it would mean facing the High Council, and probably a lenient, but still humiliating, slap on the wrist as punishment. He held the pouch out.

  “Here,” he said.

  “You made the right decision,” Stewart said as he took the proffered bag. “Now, get the hell out of here.” He didn’t have to tell him twice.

  “What the hell?” Hoshi said as Lodge walked away. “You can’t let him just walk! He really did try to Horus Gaze Chance, He was trying to make me give him my hoshi no tama until Chance jumped in.”

  “Your what?” Stewart asked.

  “It’s a piece of my soul,” Hoshi said. “If he had it, he could control me, even kill me. You can’t just let him walk!”

  “He won’t be doing it again,” Stewart said as he hefted the pouch. “Sterling is usually a pretty good guy, but he’s under a lot of pressure. So he makes bad decisions. All he needs is some guidance, and he’ll come around.”

  “He tried to beat me until I gave him part of my damn soul! And he tried to mind-fuck Chance!”

  “But he didn’t,” Stewart said calmly. “And if I pushed it, it would come down to your word against his, and that’s not enough to destroy his life over. So, this never happened, and I’ll make sure Lodge never bothers you again, okay?”

  “Man, this sucks,” Hoshi said.

  “Yeah,” I said. “He gets a pass this time. But if he crosses me again, Hell is gonna seem like a vacation.”