Recipe for Magic

by Agatha Bird

  Landyn rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. It’s no worse than swallowing a mouthful of water. He’ll be fine. Connor, can we go? I don’t want to be late for class.” Landyn repositioned his books and started off without a backward glance.

  Connor gaped after him, too shocked to move.

  Then he made a quick adjustment to the front of his robes so he didn’t embarrass himself and followed Landyn down the hall.

  “That was amazing,” Connor said when he’d caught up.

  Landyn rolled his eyes again, but there was a blush on his cheeks. “If we got detention for dueling in the halls, we’d lose practice time. And we need all the practice we can get. The flame vortex you conjured last night was pitiful. I put it out in two seconds.”

  Connor hadn’t considered the consequences of a fight, only that he wanted to see scorch marks all over Dugan’s face. He could appreciate Landyn’s foresight, though he couldn’t help but tease. He bumped Landyn’s shoulder and said, “You mean you didn’t do it to defend my honor?”

  “Please,” Landyn said. “That ship has sailed across a vast and tempestuous ocean.”

  Connor grinned. “You say the sweetest things, Plankton.”

  “Shut up,” Landyn said, ducking his head, but not before Connor saw his blush deepen.

  Connor spent most of Advanced Runes staring at Landyn, missing every word Mage Zrivestri said.

  A FEW nights later, they were back in the kitchen. Josephina rolled her eyes at them and swatted Connor with a dishrag then told him she was happy to see he was keeping better company. She left them to cobble together something to eat, and they decided on soup.

  “How do you know the cook?” Landyn asked. He’d volunteered to chop the carrots, and it was taking him about ten times as long as it would have taken Connor.

  Connor gave a one-armed shrug, his other occupied with stirring. “Back when I was a first year, I wandered down to the kitchens one night. I’d never been away from home, and I guess I was—I mean, I wasn’t lonely or anything. I missed home a bit, that’s all.”

  “Oh?”

  “Josephina reminded me of the cook we have at home. She used to let me play in the kitchens with the servant children. I didn’t have any brothers or sisters.”

  “Must have been nice,” Landyn said. “I have three sisters, all older. They’re awful.”

  Connor stared down at the pot, focusing on the bubbling water. “I don’t know. I might have liked to have a brother. Maybe then my father would have someone else to disappoint him.”

  Landyn’s hands stilled in his task. “You’re not a disappointment, Connor.”

  “At least not when it comes to soup,” Connor said, falsely cheerful. He felt jittery, like his skin was too thin. “Are you done with those carrots yet? All the water’s going to boil away if you don’t hurry.”

  “Connor—”

  “And you could stand to eat an entire bucket of soup, bag o’ bones. C’mon, chop faster.”

  Landyn gave a defeated sigh and shook his head. He nudged his shoulder against Connor’s, and Connor let himself lean in.

  THAT NIGHT, when Connor sat down to write his weekly letter to his father, he stared at the paper for a long time. Then he left it sitting blank on his desk.

  It didn’t matter. His father never answered.

  IT TOOK nearly two months and thirteen late-night batches of soup before Landyn deemed them prepared for a full conjuring.

  “You sure you’re ready for this?” Connor asked. “You shouldn’t feel bad when my dragon is ten times better than yours.”

  “I won’t. I’ll go first, then, shall I? I’d hate to have to follow your vastly superior spellcasting.”

  “By all means,” Connor said magnanimously, grinning and waving his hands in a go-ahead gesture.

  Landyn stood in the middle of the room for a long time with his shoulders relaxed and his arms loose at his sides, drawing up his magic for the spell. He closed his eyes, inhaled loudly, and from one second to the next his body went rigid. Connor could feel magic pulse across his skin.

  Landyn’s face was calm in contrast to the way his fists balled tightly at his sides. His dark eyelashes brushed lightly against his cheeks, and Connor wondered if this was how Landyn looked when he was sleeping: soft, touchable, and somehow sweet.

  Then Landyn opened his eyes, and Connor sucked in a deep, startled breath.

  Landyn’s eyes were solid blue with no white left at all; they blazed an eerie electric color, like the sea creatures that glowed in the darkest depths, and when he smiled it was like a shark.

  His hands wove complicated gestures as he muttered spellwords, his brow furrowed in concentration. Words dripped off his tongue and puddled in Connor’s ears, making his head feel thick, like he was underwater.

  A stream of crackling blue light erupted from Landyn’s hands with a roar like waves crashing and formed a glowing ball in the center of the room.

  The ball morphed and grew until a twelve-headed hydra towered over Connor, its heads whipping back and forth with mouths gaping open to reveal double rows of needle teeth.

  “Blazes!” Connor cried, scrambling back and tipping over his chair. He hit the floor hard with a grunt and stared up at the hydra with his heartbeat pounding frantically in his ears. “How the fiery pits did you manage that?”

  “This old thing?” Landyn said blandly and crossed his arms over his chest. He arched an eyebrow over his eerie, glowing eyes. “Still think yours is bigger?”

  Connor couldn’t stop the strangled burst of laughter as he stared at the massive creature in awe. The water that formed the hydra’s body looked solid as stone, but see-through, like blue crystal. Bubbles floated upward in lazy streams inside it. “By the Stones! Landyn, you dark horse!”

  “That’s dark hippocampus, thank you,” Landyn said with a sniff, then grinned, wild and bright. “My mother is a King’s Mage, Connor. My father sits on the Elemental Council. If you’d bothered to pay attention to anyone other than yourself for more than a minute, you might have guessed that I was a bit more than a third level.”

  “Blazes,” Connor breathed again, staring up at the creature. Landyn’s conjuring made the water over its eyes ripple periodically, as though it were blinking. “Roast me and call me well done,” Connor continued, pulling himself to his feet. “Maybe we won’t fail the Trial.”

  Landyn gave a huff and uncrossed his arms. “I showed you mine, Roth. Now it’s your turn to impress.”

  “Believe me, I can impress,” Connor said, pitching his voice to something raunchier. “I can impress all night long.”

  Landyn coughed and turned his head, his cheeks flushing in a way that made Connor feel giddy. “Then for the Gods’ sake, get on with it. You do love the sound of your own voice.”

  “I love the sound of other people’s voices, too. When they’re chanting my name in adoration, for example.”

  Landyn laughed delightedly, as though he couldn’t help himself, and Connor’s giddiness increased like magic fizzing underneath his skin.

  He held his hands in front of him and focused on the spell, willing the magic up from the fire that burned inside him. Staggering as crackling red and orange flames shot from his fingers, Connor steadied himself and pushed harder, until color began to bleed from the flames as the intensity of the heat increased.

  His dragon swirled out from a spiraling core of white-hot magic, unfurling its jagged wings and tossing its head, its horns curling huge and ram-like above its large, leathery ears.

  Connor’s dragon wasn’t quite as well-formed as Landyn’s, and he grudgingly admitted to himself that there might be some benefit to Landyn’s constant wittering about practice and proper spell technique, but by the blazes, it was bigger.

  “Connor!” Landyn shouted.

  Connor looked over and saw Landyn’s hydra wavering, steam rising from its edges.

  “Turn the heat down!” Landyn said. “It’s too much, they won’t be able to touch.”r />
  “I’m trying to strengthen my barrier spell,” Connor grunted, tugging some of his power back. The dragon shuddered, its fiery claws raking the ground and leaving trails of glowing embers.

  Connor heard a noise and turned his head toward the door, which had been left ajar, in time to see the flash of a face as someone quickly darted away. With a rush of hot, desert wind, his dragon collapsed sideways into the hydra and both dragons went up in the crash and hiss of billowing steam.

  Connor was already halfway out the door. He’d recognize that shock of white blonde hair anywhere.

  “Elisa!” Connor called, and only barely registered the strange way Landyn said, “What?” after him.

  Elisa had already made it halfway down the hall, but she stopped and turned when he called her name.

  “Elisa! Wait!” Connor said, slowing to a halt once he’d reached her side.

  Elisa tucked a strand of long hair behind her ear and then folded her arms defensively across her chest. “What?”

  “Were you looking for me?” Connor asked, resisting the urge to smooth down his hair.

  “No,” Elisa said. “I saw the light from the spell and got curious. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Connor deflated. “It’s okay. Landyn and I were practicing for the Trial.”

  “Yes,” Elisa said with an odd gleam in her eye. “I saw the dragons. Very impressive.”

  “They’re still rough,” Connor admitted. “But we’re getting better at them. We’re going to have them fight.”

  Elisa made a noise of agreement. “I’m sure it will impress the Archmages next week. Don’t let me keep you.”

  “Right,” Connor replied, standing self-consciously in front of her.

  “Connor,” Elisa said softly. “Listen, I’m… I’m sorry for how we treated you, in the beginning. It was just such a shock, and I didn’t react well.”

  “Yeah, hey, no problem,” Connor replied. His palms started to sweat.

  Elisa took a step forward and put her hand on his arm. “I want us to go back to being friends. Just give me a bit more time. Can you do that?”

  Connor looked down at her hand. “Sure,” he said weakly.

  He heard a throat being cleared behind him. “Connor?” Landyn asked. “Do you need to go? We can practice some other time.” Landyn glanced between them, his gaze briefly dropping to where Elisa’s hand rested on Connor’s arm. He had a strange expression on his face.

  “No, no,” Connor said hurriedly, turning back to Elisa, who wore a calculating look as she watched Landyn. “Elisa and I were catching up. You and I can get back to practicing.”

  Landyn stared at the two of them a second longer, his face blank except for the slight curl of his damn smirk. Connor hated the expression; it was impossible to get a read on Landyn’s emotions.

  “Actually,” Landyn said, “I’m feeling rather tired. I think the casting took more out of me than I thought. I should call it a night. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” With that, Landyn turned on his heel and went back into the room, presumably to gather his things.

  Connor let out a huff, staring after him, then focused his attention on Elisa. “Listen, take all the time you need. You know where to find me.”

  “Yes, I do,” Elisa said. She gave Connor’s arm a pat and turned around, leaving Connor alone in the hall watching her hips swish as she walked away. He could definitely still appreciate how her robes clung to her backside.

  He shook his head and hurried back to their practice room, nearly bumping into Landyn as he came out the door with his spellbooks gathered to his chest. Landyn was looking anywhere but at Connor.

  “Hey,” Connor said. “Are you okay? Did the spell really take that much out of you? Maybe we need a second helping of soup. Or in your case, a third.” He gave Landyn a lopsided grin.

  Landyn blinked at him, and then, all at once, his posture relaxed and he rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Connor. I didn’t want to intrude on your moment with your… Elisa. I was trying to make a graceful exit.”

  Connor rocked back on his heels with relief. “Nah, don’t worry. Do you want to keep practicing? That was a pretty good first run.”

  “All right,” Landyn said after a brief hesitation. “And maybe this time, try not to show off and destroy my conjuring in the process.”

  “Hey,” Connor drawled in mock indignation. “But mine was impressive, right?”

  “Very. I’m in awe,” Landyn said, and allowed Connor to sling an arm around his shoulder as they walked back inside. He caught Connor’s eyes and, despite his flippant tone, Connor could tell he was sincere.

  Plenty of people had paid Connor compliments, but Landyn’s approval felt special, though he refused to examine it too closely. He laughed and squeezed Landyn’s shoulder. They had dragons to conjure.

  THEY WORKED on conjuring for most of the next week, spending all their spare time in the practice room. The spellwork for the dragons took hours to prepare each time, and the Trial was fast approaching.

  They carefully choreographed the fight and ran through the conjurings until they nearly collapsed.

  They’d taken to lingering in the room after they finished practice. Tonight, they sat in two plush armchairs near the fireplace. There was still enough chill to warrant a fire. Connor glanced at a shivering Landyn, then waved his fingers to revive the embers. Landyn let out a contented little sigh and stopped rubbing his arms through his robe.

  “You’ve nearly mastered your dragon,” Landyn said, giving Connor one of his rare, honest smiles.

  “Yeah,” Connor replied, busy staring at the way the flames cast a warm glow over Landyn’s face and reflected bright points of flame in his eyes.

  “Maybe tomorrow we can put the finishing touches on our barrier spells. The Trial is only two days away, and I’m still a little worried that we haven’t eliminated the sizzle when they touch.”

  “Maybe,” Connor said. Landyn was warm enough now that his cheeks were pink and his forehead had gone shiny.

  “Are you listening?”

  The light cast dancing shadows on Landyn’s face. He looked like a fire sprite with the flames glinting golden off his brown hair.

  “Connor?”

  Landyn wasn’t half-bad to look at. A bit on the skinny side, but he could land a bed partner if he wanted, especially with a sly mouth like his. Connor wondered how Landyn would kiss: Would he try to take charge, give sharp little nips to his partner’s mouth? Where would he put his hands? On the waist? Cupped around Connor’s jaw?

  “I am moments away from dousing you in frigid water.”

  Connor snapped out of his daze. “Sorry, what?”

  “Finishing touches,” Landyn said impatiently. “I’m sorry, am I keeping you from something? Or someone?” Landyn’s eyes had gone the barest shade of vulnerable.

  Landyn was beautiful, Connor realized. He was powerful and clever, when he wasn’t being a sanctimonious know-it-all, and he had a wicked sense of humor—though this was usually at Connor’s expense. And then there was his mouth.

  It didn’t make sense that Landyn hadn’t been sitting with him at the popular table.

  “Why don’t you have any friends?” Connor asked. “And I don’t count. Not people you’re magically obligated to endure, but people you’d spend time with by choice. Real friends.”

  Landyn’s face closed off. “What?”

  “Did something happen?” Connor pressed. The thought made his magic sizzle under his skin. Had someone said something to Landyn? Betrayed him? If they had, Connor would find them and teach them that sticks and stones may break bones, but fire spells would reduce them to cinders.

  Landyn turned his face to the fire. “No. I can see what you’re thinking, but it wasn’t anything quite so dramatic. It just… happened. I was always quiet, and then little things built up over time, until it became easier not to bother with people at all.”

  “But nobody hurt you?” Connor needed to make sure. His gut churned like
there were fire rocks in his stomach.

  “No, Connor, nobody offended my delicate sensibilities and drove me to a life of solitary despair,” Landyn said, sounding exasperated. “I don’t know that I can explain. Somewhere along the way, for some reason, I pulled away from people and didn’t stop. You wouldn’t understand. It’s different for you. People like you; you can make friends with anyone. Real friends,” he echoed bitterly. The way he said it made Connor’s chest hurt.

  Connor gave a weak smirk. “People want to be friends with me because of my father. It’s always been that way. Then along came the Oracle and—poof! Friends gone.”

  Landyn shook his head. “That might be part of it, but I’ve seen you with the cook, the teachers, other students. You’re charming.”

  Connor grinned. “You think I’m charming?”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t found a new girlfriend already,” Landyn said casually.

  Connor raised an eyebrow. He’d been working on this particular eyebrow maneuver since he began studying with Landyn, since Landyn so frequently employed a similar expression. “Who’d date me now? I’ve been dethroned, remember? No more King Connor, as you like to remind me.”

  Landyn shrugged, his eyes trained resolutely on the fire. “I’m sure there are girls who’d date you.”

  “What about you?”

  Landyn’s head snapped up. “What?”

  “Any girls you’d like to date?”

  “Oh,” Landyn said. He laughed humorlessly, then took a deep breath. “No. Girls aren’t exactly my type.”

  Connor was quiet for a moment. The only sound was the crackling of flames and a snap as a log broke and settled on the grate. “Boys, then?”

  Landyn gave him a sharp look, his chin tipped up. Connor knew him well enough by now to see that Landyn was readying himself for a fight. It made Connor’s heart clench to think Landyn expected the worst from him.

  “Is that a problem?” Landyn asked.

  Connor deliberately relaxed his posture and slouched further in his chair. “Nope.”