Zero Sight

by B. Justin Shier

  Oh. Wonderful. “I’ll try my best, sir.” I sighed. Maybe I should have chosen the lobotomy.

  Albright chuckled. “You’ll do fine, son. Your talents are impressive. You wouldn’t have qualified for a top-tier institute if they weren’t. And never forget that success in magic—like in so many other endeavors—is rooted in doing things smartly. Take Mr. Fukimura back there. He is an incredibly gifted mage with tremendous mana reserves. If he had desired, Mr. Fukimura could have forcibly breached that frame juncture, but he chose not to.”

  I thought about the way Fukimura had spent time thinking through his cast.

  “You mean he identified some sort of weakness and exploited it?” I asked.

  “Correct. That particular circle was for summoning…never mind, that’ll be too complicated. What’s important is Mr. Fukimura remained calm, assessed the situation, consulted with his fellow practitioners, and selected a simple, non-taxing spell. It was KISM, as I like to say.”

  “Keep It Simple, Magus?” I guessed.

  Albright laughed, “Actually, it’s Keep It Simple, Moron, but that works too, doesn’t it?”

  I mussed my hair. Egads.

  We arrived at a large circle of grass behind the school. In the center, there was one of those sunken circular amphitheaters used for Greek theater. In fact, that's exactly what a group of students was doing right now. (It looked like a scene out of the Odyssey, but they were talking in Greek so I wasn’t sure.) Around the circular amphitheater stood three large dorm halls, an activities center, and a gym all connected to each other by cement paths. All the buildings were equidistant from the center. The layout must have been carefully thought out.

  Dean Albright led me to one of the three dorms. Above the large door were etched the Greek letters: Ι, Κ, Λ, and Μ.

  “Iota, Kappa, Lambda, and Mu?” I asked.

  “Yep,” the dean replied. “The students pronounce it ‘eye-cam.’ That’s some nasty sounding Greek, but you’ve got to give the kids some allowances. IKΛM will be your new home. I hope you like it.”

  Chapter 15

  ΙΚΛΜ

  We entered a large central hall arranged like a living room. A waif of a girl was playing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” on the piano in the corner. Two guys paused in the middle of their game of pool to wave hello. I noticed there was a ping-pong table too. I rubbed my hands together. I loved ping-pong.

  As we climbed a staircase to the second floor, Albright described the practice facilities and how to use the laundry room in the basement. We walked down a corridor to a thick wood door labeled with the bronze Λ for Lambda. Across the hall was a door labeled I for Iota. I heard a hearty female laugh coming toward the door. It swung open to reveal a girl my age with a huge white grin.

  “Joshua or Dieter?” she asked.

  “Dieter…if that’s a good thing.”

  She peeled off a sticky nametag and stuck it on my chest. The dot on my ‘i’ had a smiley face. “Welcome to Lambda, Dieter!” She gestured to her own nametag. “My name’s Monique Rice.”

  Monique was someone I instantly liked. She put off such nice vibes.

  I shook her hand. “Dieter Resnick. Nice to meet you, Monique.”

  Dean Albright yawned. “Okie dokie, I’ll leave you to Lieutenant Rice. Your bed is already prepared. If you need any school supplies, you have an account at the student store. Your scholarship will pay for anything you need within reason. Maria Espinoza handles all of Lambda’s orders. Ask her if you have any questions.” Dean Albright turned to leave. “Have a good night, you two.”

  “Joe, any word from Lucas yet?” Monique asked.

  “Nope, no word yet,” the dean replied. “There’s a transport strike in Philly. He’s probably just delayed. I’ll let you know when I hear.” He continued to walk down the hall.

  Monique frowned. She looked a bit troubled, but she turned her attention back to me. Snatching my duffle, she dragged me inside. Lambda had a nicely appointed common room with a big screen TV, couch, some chairs, and a galley kitchen to the side. The furniture wasn’t too fancy (in other words, ten times nicer than anything I had ever had), and the walls were plastered with movie posters: the wicked witch from The Wizard of Oz crushed under Dorothy’s house, Gandalf toking some choice weed, Apprentice Mickey in his oversized robe, on and on they went. I was about to protest that the poster of Emperor Palatine was out of place when I remembered the events of the past 24 hours. Freakin’ lightning fingers…the Sith lord was probably the most accurate portrayal up there.

  Monique went over the fridge rules (name and date your food or it gets tossed), the chore schedule (1st years: Monday-Sunday), and then grabbed my hand and dragged me up a spiral staircase. The loft had a long bench to one side full of all sorts of random ingredients. A copper pentacle engraved inside a circle lay in the corner.

  “This loft serves as our workshop,” she continued, “No hazardous casts up here, okay? We just finished paying off the damages from Maria’s attempted translocation of her mamma’s paella.” Monique shuddered. “You wouldn’t believe how bad saffron stains—not to mention the fish smell. I dumped like a gallon of Febreeze up here and it still took weeks to go away.”

  Actually, the smell hadn’t gone away, but I nodded anyway.

  “Not that we’ve got much to worry about out of you. You’re still just a grub, right?”

  “Um, if grub means inexperienced, then yes,” I offered.

  “Don’t worry. You’re a grub now, but one day you will be a beau-ti-ful 4th year butterfly like me,” she said, laughing. “Lucas’ll guide you through the basics. Just promise me you’ll do your first conduit outside. That’s what the lawns are for. You wouldn’t believe it, but sometimes the first few casts backfire and set off explosions. Don’t worry, though, it’s just like an M-80 going off, nothing major.”

  I gave a strained smile. Thank goodness Monique hadn’t read my personnel file.

  I must have looked a little pale, because Monique sensed something was up. She frowned, and I felt a gentle push of energy extend into me. It felt nice, like the excitement of telling a friend about a funny movie you just saw. But then it struck me—the sensation was similar to the time Rei had demanded that cup of coffee—except this time it wasn’t a command, just an incredibly tempting offer. An alarm bell went off in my head. Monique was using some sort of mind-based magic on me. She was trying to pry information. I panicked. I wanted her out. I pushed back, slamming the door in her face.

  Monique reacted with a jolt and took a step back. When I looked up at her, I noticed she was blushing. I didn’t know the rules, but I figured I had just caught her doing something bad. What really scared me was that if Rei hadn’t already used glamour on me—if I had not recognized its signature—Monique would probably have succeeded.

  “Well, anyway, that’s the workshop,” she said, heading down the staircase. “Let me show you your room.”

  I thought about letting it go. This was my first night here. I didn’t need to start out on the wrong foot. And Monique had failed, right? That gave me a bit of confidence…but how about when I was sleeping? Rei had left out a number of details in her report. Clearly, she thought it best that no one know about what really happened in the warehouse. I didn’t know why that was, but Rei had just spent the last day saving my life. I owed her my confidence.

  I grabbed Monique’s arm and she startled. Her reaction told me all I needed to know: Monique had done something wrong. And she’d underestimated me. Now she was dealing with an unknown quantity. Keeping my eyes level, I decided to bluff.

  “Monique,” I said coolly, “I would appreciate if you did not attempt that again. I’ve had…problems in the past. If I’m not careful, my response can hurt, badly.”

  Monique nodded. “Sorry. It’s force of habit. I won’t do it again.”

  Monique was trembling under my hand. I felt like an ass, but this sorta thing had to be nipped right quick. I let her go and smiled.

  “So
where's this room?”

  We walked down through the common room to a hallway with three doors on each side.

  “Girls to the left, boys to right, potty dead ahead. Your room is the first on the right. Jules and Sadie are across the hall. Your roommate’s name is Jay Dante. He goes by Dante. He’s a real nice guy, but kinda shy.”

  Monique knocked on Dante’s door, and a few moments passed. I sensed the room was empty, but Monique kept waiting. Then, with no forewarning, the door swung open. I tensed. For the second time today, someone had managed to sneak up on me. A wiry kid about two inches shorter than me stood in the doorway. His wispy brown hair was all mussed up. Bleary eyed, he looked out at us from the dimly lit room.

  “Oh, hey Monique, what’s up?”

  “Earth to Dante, earth to Dante, new roommate arrives today.”

  “Oh, right. I forgot which day it was. Man-Dough deadlines. Sorry about that.”

  “Dieter Resnick, nice to meet you,” I said, extending my hand.

  “Nice meetin’ you too,” he said. “Your bed’s all set up.” Dante’s voice had a twang to it that I couldn’t quite place.

  “I’ll let you get settled in, Dieter,” Monique said. “I have to go catch up with Sheila and Roster. Gotta make sure that fool isn’t making Man-Dough jump off Central Hall or anything.”

  “Roster?” I asked. “You know that guy?”

  “Of course. Roster’s a Lambda too. He’s your next door neighbor.”

  “Oh…I see.” I said, gritting my teeth. “I saw him earlier working with, Man-Dough, was it?”

  “Breaking it, more likely.” Monique rolled her eyes. “I’ll see you two later.”

  +

  Dante was polite but quiet. He seemed to take the measure of his words before he bothered airing them. I managed to get that he was from near Corbin, Kentucky, and that this was his second semester at Elliot. Dante said he was good at shrouding (whatever that meant), but that he hadn’t decided on his specialty yet. He had a bunch of books out and was working on something for Lambda’s Man-Dough project. Apparently, each learning group had assignments they had to complete together, and Lambda’s current task was to perfect that little putty guy I’d seen on the lawn.

  I let Dante get back to it and examined my new digs. They weren’t bad at all. A window was placed opposite the door with a view of the forest, and each side of the room had a desk, raised bed, dresser, and a small closet. A large bundle of sheets sat on top of my naked mattress. I unpacked my duffle first and then turned to the bundle. After undoing the twine, I set the towel, pillow, set of sheets, and heavy comforter to the side. That left one of those charcoal grey ‘robes,’ a little toiletry dolly, a swipe card (with my photo already on it), and three small books.

  I hung the robe in my closet and then took a look at the books. They were pocket reference guides. A red warning label on the back of each book read: “Incineration Warning: Do not photograph, scan, copy, or transport more than (1) mile from Elliot Pond.” I examined the titles. There was Do’s and Do Not’s, Wright’s Pocket Reference Guide to Basic Magery, and a laminated red one entitled In Case of Emergency. I flipped to the first chapter of Do’s and Do Not’s:

  In the Salem Pact of 1694, the Magi of Northern America agreed to formally abandon the magiks of 1) chimerism 2) mutation of living tissues, 3) necromancy, 4) alchemical reactions leading to the creation of precious minerals, and 5) unsanctioned mental assaults on the Imperiti. These five laws are in accordance with the pact signed between the Knights Hospitaller and the Church, and serve as a reaffirmation of the Five Tenets set forth by the arbitrators of antiquity:

  1. Thou shall not merge the souls of beast and man,

  2. Nor corrupt the flesh,

  3. Nor compel the dead,

  4. Nor profit from mana,

  5. Nor assault the mind.

  6.

  Though much of manalurgical law has evolved with the times, these five basic tenets have guided magiks in North America and abroad for hundreds of years. It is because of their vital nature that the Department of Mana Affairs of North America remains comfortable dispensing the death penalty when they are breached.

  “Yikes,” I muttered. That was enough light reading for the night. I finished making my bed and grabbed my toiletries. Monique was on the phone in the commons. She waved as I made my way to the bathroom. To my right was a door labeled “Roster Dreg’s Full Service Lady Chamber, Lucas Wright, Butler.”

  I shuddered.

  Across the hall, a crazy collage of photos announced Monique and Sheila’s room. I recognized Sheila right away. She was the tall blond girl seated next to Roster in the quad. In one photo, Sheila, dressed in this funny white uniform, was holding a big trophy in front of a banner that read: “Intercollegiate East Championships”. Then I did a double take. In the corner of the photo was Rei, in the same white uniform, looking rather miffed. I filed that away and moved on.

  The next door to the right had a perfectly centered single sheet of copy paper. “I. FUKIMURA” was printed in the center followed by Kanji symbols below.

  The last door on the left was almost entirely covered by a giant poster featuring handmade tissue paper animals. I would have laughed, but whoever had made them had serious talent. In the center, “Maria Espinoza” was written in beautiful script. Maria Espinoza…? Ah, yes, this was the Paella Bandit that Monique mentioned.

  I sniffed the air…was that garlic?

  Sure enough, a giant clump of the stuff was hanging above like mistletoe. Judging by its pungent odor, it was fresh. Below it, a flier from some sort of animal rights group was posted:

  Stop Sheep Abuse NOW!

  DID YOU KNOW?

  There are over 20 sheep at Elliot College.

  During their SHORT LIVES, these sheep suffer attacks by vicious dogs, forced bloodletting, distress, fear, pain, and DEATH.

  The SECRECY surrounding these sheep prevents us from finding out exactly what is done to them, but WE must DEMAND ANSWERS!

  SSA-NOW believes it is morally wrong to deliberately inflict pain, suffering, emotional harm, and death upon sheep for whatever purpose. Bloodletting is, by definition, cruel and inhumane.

  Remember! Vampires only exploit animals because they cannot exploit human beings.

  They SUFFER for US!

  Additional information can be obtained by emailing maria.espinoza@elliot.edu

  I sighed. The explosive font made my head hurt.

  I shuffled into the men’s bathroom, showered, shaved, and brushed my teeth. It was hard to believe I’d been hosed in blood just a few hours ago. New York felt so far away. I was staring at my own bleary eyes in the mirror when I heard Roster coming down the hall.

  “How the hell was I supposed to know Man-Dough couldn’t make the jump? Shug, it was only four stories. I could do that in my sleep.”

  Roster burst through the bathroom door and stormed over to the urinal. I noticed Dante out in the hall. He was rubbing his temples in frustration. Face flushed, Monique was in fast pursuit of Roster. She didn’t stop at the door. I double-checked the cinch of my towel and made busy brushing.

  “Damn it, Roster,” Monique yelled. “Do you have any idea how much time its going to take to recast all those spells? Long-acting golems take for-ever!”

  Indifferent to Monique, Roster shook off the last few drops and pulled up his sweats. “Sorry, shug. Don’t worry about it. Ichi can fix him up in no time.”

  “That’s not the point,” Monique yelled. “What are you going to learn if you just lean on Fukimura whenever you screw up?”

  “Whatever,” Roster said, rolling his eyes.

  Monique banged her hand against the counter and finally noticed me standing there.

  I was busy scraping off my remaining enamel.

  “Oh, hi, Dieter. Roster, this is Dieter Resnick, one of the new grubs. Dieter, this is Roster Dregs, abject failure and bane of my existence.”

  Roster eyed me with a devilish grin. “Yea, I saw D
racula Light bring him in. Rumor is she killed like five people on the run. Drained every last drop. That lady is rackin’ up quite the body count.”

  It was three, asshole, I thought to myself. Spitting out the toothpaste, I glared at him.

  “Looks like she didn’t get a bite off of Dieter here…” Roster lunged over and grabbed the towel off my waist. “Unless she went for the femoral!”

  Monique shrieked and covered her eyes, leaving a rather obvious gap in her fingers. I had expected a punch or something—not this. Johnson flying free, I yelped and commenced reddening. Down the hall, a small, olive-skinned girl turned the corner to stand next to Dante (who was still busy rubbing his temples). She froze, stuck out her hand, and pointed.

  “Oyé, Dante. A naked man,” she said. “One of the new guys?”

  Dante sighed. “Yep. Dieter. Oh, and Maria, Roster broke Man-Dough again.”

  “That’s okay, ” Maria said with a giggle, “there's still plenty of man ‘dough’ to go around, no?”

  I jumped for my towel while trying to shield my loins from Monique and Maria. It was a fine balance, and Roster’s six and a half foot frame made reaching the towel near impossible. I considered a tactical retreat to my dorm room, but that would require dashing between the peepers. I would be caught in a naked pickle—not a viable option.