Bastial Energy (The Rhythm of Rivalry: Book 1)

by Narro, B. T.

  But that tension in her lungs was gone, for now. The panic it brought her was left in the crowd she fought through to find her name with Group One beside it. Her relief was like waking after a full night of rest—something she hoped would finally happen now that she’d finished evaluation week.

  In addition to her group, a time was listed next to her name: 5:30. Her young teacher had explained that the head mage, Marie Fyremore, and Wilfre, the Academy’s liaison to the King, would meet with every Group One mage for a quick introduction. Effie was usually no enthusiast of pageantry, but she had to admit to herself that she was excited.

  To check the time, she peered through a slit between heads at the giant clock atop the tower of Redfield in the center of campus. It’s 5:10, just enough time to see how Cleve ranked before I go. She migrated to the warriors’ listings, pushing through a cluster of sweaty men hovering around the paper with names A through E listed above it.

  “Want to see how your boyfriend did?” one of them asked with a teasing cadence.

  If my rear gets slapped now, there will be blood. With a finger she found “Cleve Polken: Group One.” She wasn’t shocked. Even if Reela had said nothing of it, it still wouldn’t have been a surprise.

  He was born to be a warrior. She knew he would rank well, and she hadn’t even seen him use a weapon. It was clear from the way he did everything else—he spoke carefully and concisely, ate meticulously so as not to waste one stroke of his fork, never gestured unless absolutely necessary. He was well aware of his actions in every situation, treating conversations with purpose more than entertainment. Strangest of all was that, even with his size, he was so light on his feet that she couldn’t even tell when he was right behind her. This led to some problems, as Effie hated being startled.

  She and Cleve shared the same schedule during evaluation week, so they were often in the house at the same time. Cleve liked to wake early, and Effie couldn’t sleep much anyway with the unrelenting attacks of her breathing problem, so they started walking to the dining hall together for breakfast. She expected him to be up when she awoke, so it was rare for him to startle her in the morning. It was the evenings that led to the worst scares.

  She remembered the first time it happened. She thought no one else was home. Lost in her own thoughts, she moved about the kitchen aimlessly. After a few minutes, she backed into Cleve, who had come behind her to retrieve his mug.

  Effie screamed and swore at him—her usual response to being startled. She would always lose control for a breath or two, saying awful things she often would regret a moment later. She couldn’t help but feel like her skin was being turned inside out, that there was no longer a filter to her emotions.

  After screaming at Cleve and calling him names she didn’t want to remember, she punched him in the arm. Only, she didn’t curl her fist correctly. Just two of her knuckles struck him and at an awkward angle. Pain stung her, and she swore at him again.

  “Sorry if I startled you,” he said when she was finally done hitting him. But his tone was unforgiving. She could tell that he thought she was overreacting, and she knew she was.

  “You’re like a sack of bricks! How can you be so light on your feet?” she yelled, nursing her hand.

  “Training, I guess.” He shrugged. It was an annoyed shrug, done with a glare.

  Because he hardly ever elaborated, it made it far easier to twist his words. Sometimes she just couldn’t resist. “I knew they teach you warriors some unnecessary stuff, but sneaking up on women?” She shook her head and tightened her eyes to show harsh judgment. “That’s just not right.”

  “No. That’s not what I meant. They don’t teach us that.” He held up his hands defensively.

  “Oh, so you’ve trained yourself to sneak up on women?”

  “Of course not!” His face scrunched with frustration.

  She smiled to save him and to save herself as well. She didn’t want to anger him, after all, and the anger had melted out of her by then. He lowered his head when he realized it. “You’re teasing me.” He wasn’t amused.

  “It’s called humor. You should try it sometime.”

  He opened his mouth to speak but looked to the side as if searching for what to say. Finally, he said, “Well, you’re the one punching a sack of bricks.” Again, he seemed to search for the right words. “You’re…not…smart,” he said sluggishly. When he heard himself, his shoulders sank in shame.

  She applauded slowly in a sarcastic manner. “Maybe you should stick with weapons. Words can be tricky.” At that, she got a defeated chuckle from him—a major victory as it was the first time she’d made him laugh…the first of many to follow.

  On her way to the faculty housing, she thought of how Marie Fyremore and Liaison Wilfre were going to respond when she asked if Kyrro was at war. She’d never met either of them, hearing little of the King’s liaison but much of Marie.

  Until seven years ago, Marie had been headmaster of the school, stepping down into the role of head mage by choice. Rumors were that she’d grown too old for the tasks required, as it was common for the headmaster to travel to the King’s castle in Kyrro City four miles away. However, while her legs had become too frail for the long walks, her spells still were stronger than any mage in the King’s Guard.

  Effie loved Marie’s last name: Fyremore. It wasn’t her birth name but belonged to her late husband, Poast Fyremore. If ever there was a man Effie might consider marrying, it would be someone like him. Even without the glorious name, he was a legendarily handsome and skilled mage who unfortunately died during the coup twenty-something years ago to overthrow some king whose name she couldn’t remember—the coup that brought Westin Kimard to power, the father to their current king. It was the only history she accurately could remember—that, and how Westin Kimard was assassinated with a long-range arrow two years before she was born. Now his son, Welson Kimard, was their ruler. She figured she should at least know how the current king came to power, so she quizzed herself on it every day until the quizzing was no longer needed. Spells she could learn in a week, but remembering history seemed more hopeless than performing psyche.

  Marie Fyremore and Liaison Wilfre were silent when she entered. They had papers in front of them, and Wilfre was standing, while Marie sat behind a desk. The rumors of Marie were true, at least of her age. Her hair and dappled skin had lost color over the years. She had a healthy amount of weight about her, though, masking any physical frailty she might be suffering from. She wore the sky blue coat of mastery, the one issued to the head of mages, chemists, warriors, psychics, and, of course to Terren Polken, the head of school and Cleve’s uncle. Liaison Wilfre had on a blue coat as well, though he had no training as a class, like a mage or warrior. His was uniquely marked with the symbol of Kyrro—a gold crown lined with silver—over his shoulder. Wilfre had to be somewhere between Effie and Marie’s age. It was difficult to guess more accurately. His face was stiff with tightly stretched skin that gave no sign of an expression. Even when he greeted her, she couldn’t tell if he was forcing a smile or trying to pass a fart.

  “Welcome, Effie Elegin,” Wilfre said formally, not even feigning a smile. “Congratulations, and thank you for being punctual.”

  “Congratulations, Effie,” Marie added with a far more friendly tone. “I’m Marie Fyremore and this is Wilfre, the King’s liaison. I’ll be teaching you and the other Group One mages starting next week. Liaison Wilfre and the respective class head like to meet with all the Group One students within the first week. Being the most experienced of your classmates comes with harder work and a chance at a few opportunities. The King may require the assistance of students.”

  “Which is why I’m here,” Wilfre stated proudly. His nose turned up as he spoke. “I’m very good with names and faces. If Kyrro needs help from its students, usually I decide who to select. As you can imagine, if the opportunity arises to directly assist the King with anything, it’s a high honor to do so. Therefore, I need to select the right pe
rson for the job. I receive a copy of the skill chart of each mage and warrior in Group One, but a man or woman’s skills for all tasks can’t be completely told through numbers, not for some of the highly complicated missions required for the King. Luckily, I’m also a great judge of character.”

  Effie had difficulty refraining from rolling her eyes. Instead, she adjusted her weight to the other foot and tried to hold her smile. Does he really give this speech to all Group One students?

  “I see here you have a great strength with Bastial Energy.” He waved a hand at the paper in front of him. “But you’re also highly skilled with Sartious Energy. Can you tell me when you began to study it and why?”

  She thought of Horen and wondered what they would say if she told the truth—that when she was fifteen, some man had made her a heart of Sartious Energy because he wished to get her drunk and bring her to his bed. “I was practicing at the training center in Oakshen at fifteen years of age, and I saw someone casting spells that left strands of green SE disappearing into the air. I asked him for tips, and he taught me a lot. After that, I practiced what he told me and learned most else from books.”

  “You’re a fast learner.” Wilfre pointed his pen at her before bringing it down to paper. Effie stole a glance at Marie. She had cunning eyes and a light smile to match, like she knew that Effie was hiding something. It created an uneasy flutter in her stomach. Wilfre continued. “What do you know of Slugari?”

  “What?” She was so shocked by the question that words somehow tumbled out before thoughts. “Sorry, can you repeat that?” she asked to buy more time.

  “Slugari, have you heard of them?” Marie asked with a sweet tone, relieving some of Effie’s nervousness.

  She had, less than a week ago in fact, but what had Steffen told her again? She could remember what Gabby had said, so she started with that. “I’ve heard they’re green animals, half our size.” Suddenly she remembered something else. “And they have some sort of plant, a flower I believe, that is very valuable. And I think they live underground?”

  Wilfre let out a high hum as he scribbled some notes. “Where have you heard this?” he asked.

  “From one of my roommates, Steffen Duroby. He’s a chemist and knows far more about Slugari than I can remember at this time.”

  “Steffen Duroby,” Wilfre said slowly as he wrote. “I would like to speak with him once time allows. I have one more question for you, Effie Elegin. How well do you work with others?”

  She almost answered how she might if asked by anyone else: I work well with others, but they don’t work well with me, but it seemed as if she was being interviewed for some sort of mission, and she didn’t want to ruin the opportunity before finding out what it was. She needed all the excitement she could get while the closest bar was miles away.

  “I love working with other people,” she said with a smile on her face, yet a sour feeling in her stomach. “I work well in teams.” No I don’t. “I’m social, yet I like to stay on task.” There’s some truth to that at least, she figured, but it was difficult to tell for certain. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d shared a task with someone other than her sister, and that rarely ended well.

  “I can tell when people lie.” Liaison Wilfre pointed, making her heart skip a beat. “And you tell the truth.”

  I’m glad someone believes so. Effie certainly didn’t, and Marie had the same knowing look in her eyes as before.

  “May I ask a question?” Effie asked politely.

  “Of course, dear,” Marie said.

  “There’s been talk of Kyrro being at war with Tenred. Is it true?”

  Wilfre guffawed, though it seemed forced. “Who said that?” He blurted when he was done pushing out laughter.

  Effie didn’t know what to make of his reaction. “I’ve overheard people speaking about it,” she lied.

  “Give me their names.” Wilfre held a pen steady as he hovered over paper. “Go on, let’s hear them.” He was clearly angry now, though Effie didn’t know why. Whatever the reason, she was reluctant to tell him about Alex.

  “I have no names to give. I apologize, but I don’t know them,” she lied again.

  Wilfre scowled at her. “Do you know what would happen if we were at war? Do you realize how you would find out?” He was becoming even more agitated.

  “No, I don’t.” Effie was regretting her question.

  “I would tell you. I would tell everyone here at the Academy. All the students would be gathered at Redfield for the announcement. It’s part of my job to do so. You’re asking if I’ve chosen not to do my job, do you understand?”

  Maybe you just don’t know yet, she thought, feeling the child within her lashing out. It seems like a lot can get by you, she almost said. However, she held her tongue and pushed guilt onto her face as best she could. “I apologize once again. I wasn’t aware.”

  “I’m sure Liaison Wilfre understands.” Marie turned to give him a smile. “He’s quite good with people and knows how rumors can be spread. Isn’t that right?”

  Wilfre coughed to clear his throat, some anger dissipating from his face. “Yes, of course. But Effie, if you hear a student speak of war again, please learn his or her name and come to me with it.”

  “There may be many who are wrongly convinced that war has begun,” Marie said. “Might I suggest an announcement at Redfield to clear everything up and stop the rumors for good? It would be a good way for all the students to learn who you are as well.”

  “Yes, that idea suits me,” Wilfre said. “I’ll speak to Terren Polken about setting up a time.”

  Marie stood. “Thank you, Effie. Unfortunately, others are waiting to meet with us so we must bring this meeting to an end. I’ll see you in the Group One classroom when class begins.”

  Effie was both excited and nervous about Marie being her teacher, as it seemed like the old woman was clever in a somewhat dangerous way.

  Effie thanked them and shuffled out, shutting the door behind her. She could hear what sounded to be angry murmurs between Marie and Wilfre as she left.

  Chapter 28: Locked on

  EFFIE

  “What’s happened?” Reela asked before Effie even had both feet inside the house.

  “What do you mean?” Effie asked.

  “You’re upset.” Reela was seated at the kitchen table but stood to take Effie’s hand gently and bring her to a seat. “Come, sit with me and have a drink.” Reela ran a finger through Effie’s wavy hair, straightening out a snag. The sakal jug was there on the table waiting, along with two liquor glasses. It was strange for Reela to initiate drinking, but Effie didn’t complain. A drink or two sounded perfect right then, maybe even three.

  Effie filled each glass as Reela sat.

  “Bastial,” she said.

  “Bastial,” Reela repeated with a concerned smile.

  They drank. Reela blew out air to relieve the burn while Effie merely sighed.

  “Talk,” Reela said. “I don’t know where the boys are, but they aren’t here. I expected you to be far more excited. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

  “Too much at once,” Effie said. She filled her glass once again and then Reela’s as well. She took a breath before throwing it down her throat. Reela ignored the begging glass at her fingertips and stared at Effie instead. She loved the way Reela’s radiant green eyes gazed at her as they did during these moments. It reminded her of the emerald green of Sartious Energy. Looking into those eyes was the one time when she truly could speak freely because she knew it was the only time someone truly would listen. There was no ulterior motive to be guessed, no games to be played.

  “Start with whatever just happened,” Reela said.

  “The one person who has the task of informing the Academy when war has begun wouldn’t know he was in a duel until his opponent’s sword had been run through him.”

  “Liaison Wilfre,” Reela acknowledged. “He sat in on the first class I had to ‘observe the new psychics.’ You’re rig
ht. His orders need to be delivered by spoon. This worries you because you now believe we’re at war and haven’t been told so?”

  “I guess I do. You told me Alex spoke the truth when he discussed it earlier.”

  “Yes, what he believes is the truth,” Reela made sure to emphasize. “That doesn’t mean it’s accurate.”

  Effie nodded to show she understood. “It’s the not knowing that I can’t stand. I’d rather be told we must prepare for battle than be left to guess. And I think the King is planning some mission for students, but I insulted his liaison.” Effie eyed the sakal in Reela’s glass, wanting her to catch up so she didn’t feel guilty for drinking more.

  “I’m saving this for later.” Reela pushed it behind her arm and then reached out to squeeze Effie’s hand. A tingle swam up through her arm and she squeezed back. Then Reela retracted her hand. “I don’t think you’re as capable of offending men as you believe yourself to be,” Reela said playfully. “Even the delicate Liaison Wilfre. I’m sure something else has angered him enough since then for him to have forgotten. Did he tell you he was a good judge of character?”

  “He did.”

  Reela giggled. “He tells that to everyone in hopes that he may be able to convince himself of it. He’s good with names and faces, yes, but very forgetful of more important details.”

  Effie knew not to doubt Reela. It was unlike her to speak without committing to every word.

  Relieved to hear this about Wilfre, Effie decided to move on to her next thought. “Steffen’s been acting strange ever since classes began. He turns away from my face as if overcome with shyness. But it’s not the same as the quiet men in Oakshen who sneak looks at women and then turn away when they look back. It’s as if he’s avoiding me completely.”

  Reela’s smile faded. “I’ve noticed that as well.” She leaned over the table. “He has a secret that he can’t escape from, and the sight of you seems to cause it to swell, pushing the rest of his feelings aside. I’ve never known him to hide something from us.”