Academy of Falling Kingdoms Box Set

by Marisa Mills

  I entered the familiar room and glanced around. It had only been a few days, and everything looked exactly the same. The wall was lined with bookshelves and equipment. In the table in the corner were flasks filled with teal and purple liquid, that plumed gently into abstract clouds of colored smoke. The light crackling of a small wood stove kept the room toasty warm.

  On the wall was a framed dragon tooth and silver-tipped skull of a deer. Charms and pendants hung from its antlers. In the back, a large table held chunks of large amethyst and quartz, freckled with silver and gold glints of pyrite and rare earth metals. Each of us had a thick leather volume on our desks along with a fresh notepad.

  I hadn’t expected to know anyone in this class, but I immediately recognized Tatiana’s bright red hair. I knew people called her “Crazy Tati” because of her father’s conspiracy theories, but we’d faced a demon together, and that sort of experience had a way of bonding people. I wasn’t sure if Tatiana was any crazier than the other mages in Reverie, and at least she was nice to me.

  “Wynter!” Tatiana exclaimed.

  With a smile, I took the seat beside her. There was a box on the table before us, and when I peeked inside, I recognized the contents and groaned. This was the change-the-color-of-the-gemstone thing, where you had to make ink and draw the sigils. I hadn’t been able to do it earlier, and I doubted I’d be able to do it now.

  The only time a sigil had ever worked for me was the time I’d summoned lightning, and I hadn’t even meant to do that. I was just a regular human and didn’t have—or shouldn’t have?—any magic of my own. Even the fire that I was so known for was borrowed from Lucian.

  “I’m so glad you’re in this class with me,” I said.

  Tatiana beamed at me. “I’m glad you’re here, too,” she said. “I’ve never tried sigils, although I’ve read a lot about them. My father has so many books on them.”

  “Does he?”

  Tatiana nodded. “That’s part of his job. He owns a bookshop, specializing in the preservation of old manuscripts.”

  “I’ve never heard of something like that,” I said. There were plenty of old books in the Dregs, but they were usually too damaged to read.

  “Centuries ago, the people of Reverie weren’t so kind to their books,” Tatiana said. “Paper was expensive, so people would tear up old manuscripts and use them as binding for new manuscripts, for example. Or people wrote notes in the margins. Even if left alone, however, moths or mold could eat through them after a few decades. My father works to find and restore as many of these old manuscripts as he can.”

  I nodded, but glanced away as Du Lac strode in, already looking annoyed. That was a bad sign.

  “Good morning, Professor,” I said.

  “Good morning, Miss Wilcox. I see you’re in my class once again. You can survive falling from Reverie, and somehow, basic sigils continued to elude you.”

  My face grew hot as Du Lac continued his path with a smug expression on his face, fixing me with his watery eyes. A large crystal was hanging on a silver chain from around his neck, and his bony fingers were gripped tightly around a fine onyx pen with gold bands. The shadow of my chair seemed to move, sweeping out towards his legs. Du Lac stumbled. He’d have fallen if he didn’t catch the edge of my table with his hand. While he scowled, Lucian laughed. And although I knew Du Lac couldn’t hear him, I still flinched when he glared at me.

  What had Lucian done?

  He deserved it, the demon replied gleefully.

  I put a hand over my mouth, mortified.

  “What was that about?” Tatiana whispered.

  “I failed his class last time,” I replied, “but he’s always hated me. I think he has some problem with Dorian.”

  That might actually be true. I wondered what the history was between them.

  “What sort of problem?” Tatiana asked.

  I shrugged.

  “Well,” Tatiana replied, “It still isn’t fair for Du Lac to take it out on you.”

  A few more students filed in, some of them shooting me curious looks. It seemed the one thing that drew more attention than fighting a demon was surviving an impossible plummet from Reverie. Although everyone assumed the prince had saved me somehow. He was probably enjoying being the center of attention. I was just along for the ride. Nobody thought I had anything to do with it.

  “Class!” Du Lac snapped. “I am Professor Markus Du Lac. Welcome to Introduction to Sigils. I see a couple of familiar faces, but most of you are new to me.”

  I got it. I’d failed his class. Was he going to keep rubbing salt in the wound?

  Maybe he’ll be as miserable as you are, Lucian said. If not, I can make him miserable.

  Absolutely not.

  But you can’t stop me, Lucian replied.

  No, I couldn’t.

  Come, now, Lucian purred, you don’t expect me to just follow you around and do nothing, do you? Really, you should be thrilled. I haven’t set your nobleman or your princeling on fire. That’s really exemplary behavior considering how awful they both are.

  “Today’s lesson is simple. I want you to follow the instructions on the card and change the color of these gemstones,” Du Lac continued.

  I wondered if we were going to go through the exact same lessons as we had last semester. That wouldn’t be the end of the world. I might even manage to do a few things right if I got to try them all again.

  Or, Lucian said, you might have to keep taking this class forever.

  Years and years stretched before me, stuck in Du Lac’s class like some sort of purgatory.

  The box full of gemstones was passed around. I pulled out a large violet one and got started. I knew that even the smallest mistake would mess up the potion, so I had to do it exactly right and take my time. What color was this potion supposed to be again? I tried to remember. It seemed like silver or lavender.

  I mixed the potion, and I didn’t think I’d made any mistakes this time. The result was a pale purple concoction with a pearl-like sheen. I looked at Tatiana to see if she’d achieved something similar, and to my delight, she had. Maybe I’d gotten this right, then.

  I took the brush and carefully painted the sigil on the gemstone. Nothing. I sighed and wiped the mark away. I tried again, more carefully, but still to no avail.

  “Wynter, I think you’re being too careful,” Tatiana said. “The result is that you have all these little…um, stopping and going points. You should draw the sigil in one, single stroke.”

  I watched as she demonstrated, her slender hand drawing the shape effortlessly. Her blood-red gemstone immediately became forest-green.

  “I didn’t realize brushstrokes had anything to do with it,” I said.

  “Sometimes they do,” Tatiana said.

  I tried holding the brush like she had, but even after a few attempts, I still hadn’t managed it. My sigil looked just like hers, too.

  “It takes practice,” Tatiana said. “Just like everything else. And you have to learn little tricks for yourself.”

  “Tricks?”

  “Sure! With sigils, the magic is literally confined within the symbol you’re drawing, and no two people have the same handwriting, right? So it takes a lot of precision to figure out how to modify the symbol to work with the way you write. My father is really the expert in this, and it took him forever to master sigils. He’s left-handed, so he would always smear his ink,” Tatiana replied.

  That did make some kind of sense, though I was surprised Du Lac had never shared this method before. He seemed adamant about getting the strokes exactly right. I wiped my ink off the gemstone and tried again.

  “Unfortunately, some people never master sigils,” Du Lac said, rounding to our table. “It looks like you might be one of them. Perhaps, it’s because you were raised in the Lower Realms. You wouldn’t have been taught the proper way to hold a pen.”

  Claribel had taught me to write just fine.

  �
�I don’t have to master sigils, though,” I said. “I just have to pass, right?”

  Du Lac smiled thinly. “You don’t seem to be managing even that.”

  Something brushed against my ankle. I really hoped Lucian wasn’t about to attack Du Lac again or do something to make him angry. Already, Du Lac was paying too much attention to me.

  “I’ll help you,” Tatiana said. “We can form a study group!”

  Du Lac’s eyes remained on me as I drew the symbol again, not as slowly as my earlier attempts but not as quickly as my later attempts. My simmering anger seemed to guide my hand all the way through. My jaw dropped as the violet stone shifted to a bright gold. Then Lucian laughed, and I realized he must have helped or guided my hand somehow.

  Tatiana clapped. “Nice job!”

  Du Lac scowled and took the gemstone from my hand, inspecting it with narrowed eyes. It shimmered under the lights as he turned it between his fingers. “Maybe there’s hope for you yet,” he said.

  ***

  Du Lac dropped the stone back on the table before me. I hastily wiped away the sigil, turning the stone purple again. I wished Lucian hadn’t done that. Now, Du Lac was really going to have it out for me.

  He dislikes you regardless, Lucian said. If anything, performing well is likely to make him bother you less.

  Or bother me more because he was determined to learn how I’d suddenly become so good at sigils.

  All I did was steady your nerves, mageling.

  “Class dismissed,” Du Lac called a few minutes later.

  He didn’t even wait for his class to leave before sweeping out the door.

  “What class do you have next?” Tatiana asked.

  “Theoretical Applications of Magic,” I said.

  “With Gareth?” Tatiana asked. “I’ve taken that. You’ll like it. Professor Gareth talks about more advanced types of magic.”

  Tatiana and I walked a little of the way together, before I broke off and headed to Gareth’s class. I hadn’t seen him yet since returning, and I couldn’t decide whether I did want to see him. Just before the final exams, I snuck into his office and stole Nick’s journal from his desk. Had he noticed it was missing, and if so, did he suspect me? Even if I hadn’t had a choice, I still felt bad about it. He’d always been so kind and patient with me.

  When I walked in, Professor Nathanial Gareth was alone. He sat at his desk, flipping his pen in his hand. Gareth was a thin, sprightly man with silvery hair, wearing a tweed jacket with padded elbows and black bow tie. He looked very unassuming, harmless even—for mage—but the first time we’d met, he’d thrown himself between a demon and me. I stood in the doorway and smiled shyly, trying to find a way to express just how happy I was to see him, while keeping the guilt off my face.

  “Wynter,” Gareth said. “You gave us quite a scare. I’m glad to see you alive and well.”

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  Slowly, I crossed the room and sat in the front row, resting my elbows on the desk. Gareth’s classroom was in an older part of the school, and looked like it had once been a small chapel. I wondered what the mages used to pray to, and why they didn’t anymore. Narrow, gothic windows let in enough daylight to see, but the room was also lined with black iron candelabras, with long white candles that smelled like vanilla and cinnamon. Behind Gareth’s wide desk was a chalkboard, and in the corner a small studio area housed a sofa, some chairs and a roaring fireplace.

  Gareth leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hand over his face.

  “I’m so sorry, Wynter. You must’ve been…I can’t imagine what you went through.”

  “It’s all right,” I said.

  Gareth shook his head sadly. “As your professors and as members of the Council, it’s our duty to protect our students, and we’ve failed you.”

  “You haven’t failed me, Professor,” I said. “If anything, I’ve failed you. I’ve been a terrible student.”

  Gareth waved a dismissive hand. “You’re a fine student, Wynter. It’s just that you have to work a little harder because you don’t have the advantages most of our other students do. I firmly believe that you’ll get it, and if you do need additional help, don’t hesitate to ask. I know it can be a bit embarrassing to fall behind, but all of us here want to see you succeed.”

  “Even Du Lac?” I asked.

  “Has he been giving you trouble?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek, unsure whether I should’ve said that. “I don’t think he likes me much,” I said, trying to be diplomatic.

  “Du Lac can be…” Gareth trailed off. “Well, I won’t speak ill of my colleague. He can be difficult, though.”

  Difficult. That was a good word for him.

  I heard other students entering. When I looked over my shoulder, I found Alexander and Viviane. To my surprise, Alexander sat beside me rather than in front of me as usual. With a scowl, Viviane took the seat behind him. Gareth tactfully turned his attention to a stack of papers on his desk.

  Alexander leaned close to me. “I should probably warn you,” he whispered, “I’ve been telling people that we both attempted to draw anti-gravitational sigils as we fell.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  Alexander glanced at Viviane, who narrowed her eyes.

  “I’ve been trying to counteract the absurd rumor that we were rescued by a rogue mage or dark magic,” Alexander murmured, his intense blue eyes never leaving my face. “Anti-gravitational sigils make sense. They’re far more advanced magic than we should be capable of, so it makes sense that—if we succeeded—we might fall unconscious.”

  I hadn’t noticed any rumors. “Thank you,” I muttered.

  Alexander nodded sharply. “Just try not to draw attention to yourself. If you can manage that,” he whispered.

  I was trying, but that was easier said than done.

  “I didn’t know you were in this class, Summer,” Viviane said, leaning forward to tap me on the shoulder.

  “Is there any reason I shouldn’t be?” I asked.

  “You’ll probably find it very interesting,” Alexander said. “This class covers newer branches of magic.”

  Viviane looked vaguely annoyed, whether by the class or by Alexander was unclear. “The textbook is dense,” she said.

  Great. If Viviane, who’d spent her whole life around magic, found it dense, I was doomed. Even though I’d spent a semester at the Academy, I still didn’t understand some of the basic concepts from the introductory classes, and despite Gareth’s insistence that I could ask for help, I knew I wouldn’t. I’d just have to find another way to keep up.

  The rest of my classmates filed in, and to my delight, I recognized most of them. There was Kris, small and dark-haired, who gave me a smile and a wink as she entered. When her gaze landed on Viviane, her easy smile fell. Viviane seemed suddenly fascinated with her hands. For good reason, too. When she’d been controlled, Viviane had been dueling Kris. She’d nearly killed her. Kris cleared her throat. “How…how are you, Viv? I didn’t see you this morning.”

  “I just left the infirmary,” Viviane replied.

  “That’s good,” Kris said. “We’ll have to go drinking soon. We deserve that, right?”

  “We do,” Viviane said, but she didn’t sound very enthused.

  With a strained smile, Kris took a seat on the opposite end of the classroom.

  Jessa came in next. Her shoulder-length, blonde hair had escaped the confines of the blue ribbons she’d used to tie it back with. She was trying to fix it as she walked. Seeing me, she slid into the seat behind me, beside Viviane.

  “Good morning, Wynter! And Alexander! It’s good to have you back!”

  Alexander nodded. “It’s good to be back,” he replied.

  Jessa nodded happily and reached across the table to hug me. “I’m surprised you’re here,” I said. “I thought you were a couple of semesters ahead of us.”

  “I am! But I wanted to take a
few elective classes,” Jessa replied cheerfully. “Something to keep me sane while I’m knee-deep in plant magic and dancing.”

  “I’m taking dance for the first time this semester,” I said.

  “Well, if you need a tutor, I’m your girl!”

  I didn’t know if I’d ever ask, but it was nice to know I could.

  Gareth clapped his hands together. “Welcome, class, to Theoretical Magic!”

  I turned around and let my cheek rest in my hand. If there was one thing that could be said for Gareth, it was that he genuinely seemed to love his job. I really hoped he wasn’t the one summoning demons. Anyone but him.

  Nine

  I SAT IN THE LIBRARY in my usual spot beneath Amelia, Countess Rosewood’s portrait. Lucian had agreed not to set it on fire, but he hadn’t been unable to resist toying with the portrait. His intention had been just to tilt the frame a bit, but instead, he’d knocked it off the wall. It landed with a resounding thud behind my chair and echoed through the tall rows of bookshelves on the first floor.

  “Lucian!” I hissed.

  That fall symbolizes the way she fell down the stairs, Lucian said, his voice heavy with mock-solemnity.

  “Stop making jokes about her death!”

  A couple students paused, looking bewildered. My face reddened. I’d just told someone to stop making jokes about death when I was literally the only person around. Great. After an awkward moment of staring, they moved on. I returned to my stack of books, hoping Lucian would let me try to study in between classes. There was so much I didn’t know, and if I was going to keep my cover for whatever Dorian planned next, I had to at least try to keep up.

  If I was the countess, I’d have hurled your nobleman down the stairs long ago.