Outlier_Spellslingers Academy of Magic

by Annabel Chase

  “She’s a siren?” I asked.

  “No, my sweet. A muse like me, but she is blessed with the gift of voice.” She sashayed her way over to Peter. “Admiring my mural? I made it myself.”

  “I thought you inspired others to be creative,” I said. “I didn’t realize you actually possessed the skills you inspired.”

  Urania threw her head back and laughed. “Aren’t you an absolute darling?” Her teeth gleamed in the fey light. “I simply wouldn’t be me without my own artistic talents.”

  “Why infuse others with the desire to create if you can just do it yourself?” I asked.

  Urania swiveled to face me and inclined her head. “You have issues with control, don’t you? I can tell. I’ve met your type before.” She glanced at Peter. “I suppose you must go in for that sort of thing or you wouldn’t be together.”

  Peter flashed a charming smile. “You haven’t met her type before. I assure you that Dani’s one of a kind.”

  Urania gave me an appraising look. “She’s mortal, my sweet. Trust me, I’ve met her kind.”

  “Speaking of mortals,” I said, treading carefully. We had her attention; we may as well use it to our advantage. “I’m surprised you don’t get a parade of them climbing the mountain to sneak off with your peento peaches. Immortality is one of the most valuable commodities in existence.”

  “I have guards posted day and night,” Urania said. I resisted the urge to look at Peter. We saw firsthand how easy it was to bypass them. Then again, they knew it was the only night guests were welcome. “Though I did have a security breach recently.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “You did? What happened?”

  “A couple of pesky giants came and knocked my guards unconscious.” She rolled her eyes. “So annoying.”

  “What did they want?” Peter asked.

  “They uprooted an entire peento tree and took off with it,” she huffed. “Can you believe that? If I hadn’t been so busy preparing for the banquet, I would’ve dealt with them myself.”

  “Why a whole tree? Why not just grab a few peaches and go?” I asked.

  “Maybe they want to distribute immortality to all their friends and relations,” she said, throwing up her hands. “Who in Tartarus knows?” She peered at us. “Now that I think of it, I didn’t see either one of you eat a peach at the banquet. Everyone else grabbed theirs the second they were seated.”

  “To be honest, my thoughts were elsewhere,” Peter said, gazing at me.

  Urania took the hint. “Oh, I am so envious of the two of you. It might be worth being mortal, just to fully appreciate the limited time you have with someone you love.”

  She pinched Peter’s cheek. “I’ll leave you two to canoodle. Do make sure to take advantage of my hospitality. It isn’t every day you receive an offer of immortality with no strings attached.”

  Peter and I continued to stand in the room for a few minutes after she left.

  “Why a whole tree?” I finally dared to ask.

  He shook his head. “Maybe if the giants are seeking immortality, they need to eat more than one peach to be effective?” He raked a hand through his hair. “I’m stumped. What do the giants have to do with Fraser?”

  “One of the theories has been that his kidnapping is politically motivated,” I said, “and the most chatter has come from Giga.”

  Peter frowned. “The giant extremist group? But there’s been no ransom. No call to action.”

  “There’s got to be a connection that we’re missing,” I said.

  “As much as I’d like to stay the night with you in a palace,” Peter began, “our best bet is to summon our pegasus and get back in time for when Titan’s Call office opens in the morning.”

  “What’s Titan’s Call?”

  “A radical news organization run by giants. Albion Nicholl is the owner and editor.”

  “You know him?” I asked.

  “No, but I’ve heard his name in certain circles. In fact, I’m sure I heard Lizzie mention him at one point when we…never mind.”

  “When you what?” I asked.

  “When we used to spend time together,” he said sheepishly.

  “And Fraser still continued to speak to you after that, huh?” I asked. “He must really like you.”

  Peter took my hand and guided me out of the room. “You’re right, princess. He really must.”

  “You’ve got your wand, right?” Peter asked. We stood outside the building where Titan’s Call was headquartered.

  My stomach tightened. “You think we’ll be attacked in a newspaper office?”

  Peter smoothed the front of his T-shirt. “Albion could be our guy. If they’ve got Fraser stashed away nearby, then we need to be ready for anything.”

  I shoved aside my nerves. I’d spent time in the underworld during our search for Cerys, for Hecate’s sake. How hard could this be? If I expected to become a top sentry one day, then I needed to buck up and shake off any sign of weakness. My parents had hammered that idea into me from a young age and I wasn’t about to cave under pressure now. Of course, I knew they’d been more motivated by fear that I’d follow in my grandmother’s footsteps, but the end result was the same. No. Weakness.

  The office appeared perfectly normal, except for the fact that giants sat at very oversized desks. The building was styled like an industrial warehouse, likely to accommodate its extra-large occupants.

  “May I help you?” a voice thundered. A giant fixed her curious gaze on us. She wore a pair of glasses on a chain around her neck. Curls of blond hair framed her large face.

  “We’re looking for Albion Nicholl,” Peter said.

  The receptionist lifted her glasses to peer at us. “Your name?”

  “I’m Danielle Montrose Degraff,” I said. “And this is my friend, Stone.” I didn’t want to say Peter’s name in case any giants here had heard about the arrest warrant.

  The receptionist broke into a smile. “Stone’s a wonderful name. Popular with giants, in fact. Any giant blood in your family?”

  “None that I’m aware of,” Peter replied. “But who really knows?”

  “I’m Albion Nicholl,” an approaching giant said. “Friends call me Albie.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, and shook his hand. Well, more like I placed my tiny hand in his enormous one and prayed he didn’t break any bones.

  He motioned us forward. “Come on back to my office. I’m interested to hear what this visit is about.”

  By giant standards, Albion Nicholl was not impressively large. At a little over seven feet tall, he towered over us, but lived in the shadow of some of his more formidable friends. We trailed him to the back of the building where his section of the office was located. It was open-plan, so there was little privacy for our conversation. Luckily, most of the staff seemed to be elsewhere at the moment.

  “Sit down,” Albion said. We dropped into two chairs that were far too big for our average frames. “How can I help you, Mr. Zilla?”

  Peter was unable to disguise his shock. “You know who I am?”

  “I run a news organization,” Albion said. “It’s my job to know things.” He paused. “Can I get you anything? I’d rather offer it now, so you’re not tempted to smuggle it out when you leave.”

  Peter chuckled. “I’m not interested in taking anything away from here except information.”

  I begged to differ. We would be happy to take away Professor Fraser, if that were an option. I remained quiet, though.

  Albion shifted his attention to me. “You don’t strike me as one of Mr. Zilla’s partners in crime. What’s your relationship with him?”

  “We’re working together to find Grantham Fraser and clear Peter’s name,” I said.

  “A noble cause,” Albion said. “I like noble causes. And what’s your interest in this, Miss Degraff?”

  “Professor Fraser recently began teaching at Spellslingers,” I replied. “He’s one of our own.”

  Albion scratched his cheek with
a plump finger. “The academy, yes. Very prestigious.”

  Instinctively, I straightened in my chair. “It’s the best.”

  Albion squinted at us. “And how did Mr. Zilla manage to get his warrant frozen, I wonder? Was that your doing, Miss Degraff?”

  “We came to ask you the questions, Mr. Nicholl,” I said.

  He seemed amused by my response. “I run Titan’s Call. Usually, the questions are my job, young caster.”

  I bristled. ‘Young caster’ sounded so dismissive. “Have you ever heard of the Peento Banquet?” I asked.

  The giant flinched—it was nearly imperceptible, but I saw it. “It’s a once-a-century event, is that right?”

  “That’s right,” I said. “Are you aware that a couple of giants went to Urania’s palace in advance of the banquet and stole one of her peento trees? They uprooted it and took off.”

  Albion kept a straight face. “Is that so? Then why hasn’t that goddess lodged a complaint? There are procedures for that sort of thing.”

  I ignored his comment. “Any idea why giants would want to steal a whole tree?”

  “I can’t possibly be expected to know everything my brethren do,” he replied smoothly. “Let alone their reasons for it.” He peered at me. “Do you keep track of everything witches and wizards do?”

  “I’d like very much to keep track of Professor Fraser,” I shot back.

  Albion drummed his heavy fingers on the desk. “Yes, that’s understandable. I’ve heard he’s a fine wizard. Highly skilled.”

  “Where’d you hear that?” Peter asked.

  “What does it matter, Mr. Zilla?” Albion appeared to be losing patience with us.

  “I don’t really think we need to spell it out for you, big guy,” Peter said. “Maybe it’s relevant to his disappearance.”

  Albion’s square jaw tightened. “His name came up in conversation with associates of mine.”

  “The same associates that object to the treatment of giants imprisoned in the quadrant?” Peter asked.

  Albion leaned back in his chair and regarded us carefully. “Could be.”

  “We know your political viewpoints, Mr. Nicholl,” I said. “What we want to know now is the lengths you’re willing to go to invoke change.”

  “You mean did I kidnap your friend?” Albion asked. Anger flashed in his eyes. “One wizard disappears and you have the gall to come into my place of business and accuse me? Do you know anything about our cause? Because a missing wizard is nothing in the scheme of what we’ve been fighting for.” There was a hard edge to his voice now.

  “Fighting for?” Peter echoed. “That’s an interesting choice of words.”

  Albion’s fat tongue whipped across his lips before disappearing. “The giants have been fighting for equality ever since the Accords.” He shifted his focus to me. “You’ve learned about the Accords of the Four Quadrants at that fancy academy of yours, haven’t you?”

  “Actually, we learned about it in primary school,” I replied. Not that we spent much time on it. Probably an hour in class one day. Another history marker.

  “Then you know that the rest of the world broke faith with us,” Albion said bitterly. “Time and time again, we have endured treachery and deceit.”

  “Gee, I can’t imagine why they call your newspaper radical,” Peter said. “You seem so even-handed.”

  Albion pounded his fist on the desk, causing it to tremble. “We are here to speak our truth. To highlight the issues that plague my kind even to this day.”

  “You lost the Stone War lifetimes ago,” Peter said.

  “And yet the repercussions are still felt today,” Albion said. “My family was persecuted for being giants. Did we have anything to do with the Stone War? We weren’t even a twinkle in the eyes of the gods.”

  “I understand,” I said quietly.

  Peter’s head jerked toward me. “You do?”

  “Of course I do,” I replied. “My grandmother’s actions cursed our family name for generations.”

  Albion seemed agitated. “You cannot equate the demise of a single family fortune to that of an entire race. The fact that you think you understand—this arrogance—is part of the problem.”

  My head snapped to attention. “Arrogance? I empathize with you.”

  “How kind of you, witch.” Albion’s expression hardened. “Do you know anything about the long history of the mistreatment of giants following the Accords? Too many instances to name. The most recent victim was….”

  “Mellie Haywood,” Peter interjected. “She died in custody.” He noticed my look of surprise and said, “What? I keep up with current events.”

  Albion exhaled slowly. “That’s right. Mellie is but one more victim in our endless struggle. Do you know why she was imprisoned?”

  I shook my head. “Why do I get the sense that it wasn’t for a serious crime?”

  “Peaceful protest,” Albion said. “She and other members from our group organized a protest in front of the mines near Barkley. The treatment of giants in the mines had been well documented, but no one was doing anything about it.”

  “I thought mines were a dwarf thing,” I said.

  “Not these mines,” Albion replied. “They’re unnaturally large. Giants are ideally suited to work in them, but the conditions are deplorable. Naira and Mellie organized a protest to bring attention to the problem.”

  “Who’s Naira?” I asked.

  “Another activist,” Albion said. “She spent five years in prison for her beliefs.”

  “Her beliefs or her actions?” Peter queried.

  Albion simmered. “What good is holding a belief if you do not act upon it?”

  Peter folded his arms. “How peaceful was this protest? I’m guessing not very.”

  Albion shot to his feet and I was reminded once again that we were in the presence of a true giant. “Why don’t you pay a visit to the underground pits where the giants were imprisoned after the Stone War?” Albion said. “There’s one not far from here, in fact. Then talk to me about peaceful protest with that judgmental glare. Our sad history is a blight on this so-called civilization.”

  “The pits were closed generations ago,” Peter said. “That was part of the Accords.”

  Albion nodded. “But then the powers-that-be decided to turn some of the existing prisons into similar environments for giants. The comparison is undeniable.”

  “How do you know?” I asked. “The prisons aren’t exactly open to the public for tours.”

  Albion tapped the newspaper in front of him. “I have sources everywhere.”

  I didn’t doubt it. The giant seemed passionate about his cause and his publication.

  “So Mellie is your rallying cry?” Peter asked. “And you took Fraser in retribution. Why him?”

  Albion’s nostrils flared. “Why him, indeed? I took no one! What purpose would it serve? If my group was responsible, where is the demand for action?”

  I couldn’t answer him because he was right. The absence of a demand was one of the crucial missing pieces.

  “You’re biding your time,” Peter said. “Making them sweat a little before you make your demands to free the rest of your group.”

  “Making who sweat?” Albion said. “Why is this Grantham Fraser so important that we’d successfully use him as leverage to convince the powers-that-be to release our friends?” He crouched low so that he was eye level with Peter. “You are the only two who’ve been to see me about this wizard. I don’t see how that proves his worth.”

  Why was Grantham Fraser worth taking? Maybe we were completely off the mark. Maybe he wasn’t even alive. Although we’d discussed the possibilities, we hadn’t come up with a satisfactory answer. Albion was right—why would Fraser be a political pawn?

  “You’re right, Mr. Nicholl,” I said. “This conversation has been very enlightening. I thank you for it.” I stood and offered my hand.

  Albion returned to his place behind the desk and wrapped my tiny hand in
his. He could’ve crushed it with a gentle squeeze. “A pleasure, Miss Degraff. With a future as bright as yours, I have no doubt we will cross paths again someday.” He glanced at Peter. “I’m not sure that I can say the same for you.”

  Peter shrugged. “I’m not looking for your stamp of approval, Nicholl. That’s not how I operate.”

  “No, I suppose a smuggler isn’t interested in the respect of his peers.”

  “You said yourself the giants aren’t our peers,” Peter replied.

  “I said nothing of the kind,” Albion replied. “I have simply opened your eyes and shone a light on the darkness that plagues this world. That is the purpose of Titan’s Call, after all. Enlightenment.” He tilted his head toward me. “At least one of you can leave here with fresh eyes. My work matters. My words matter.”

  Although I didn’t particularly like him, he had a genuine, passionate quality that appealed to me. “It was nice to meet you, Albion. Like you said, I’m sure we’ll cross paths again.”

  We turned and headed for the exit.

  “I sure as hell hope not,” Peter muttered.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Where are these underground pits?” I asked Peter on the ride back to Spellslingers.

  “Lots of places,” Peter said. “They were a big deal back in the days before the Accords. Best place to contain those pesky giants was deep below ground.”

  “Albion mentioned one nearby,” I said.

  Peter cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you ruled him out. That was the impression I got.”

  “That was the impression I wanted to give,” I said. “I don’t think he’s responsible, but I think he knows more than he admitted. He’s protecting his group.”

  Peter tapped the wheel thoughtfully. “Yeah, I think you’re onto something, princess. He clearly has strong feelings about the cause. Just because he’s not directly involved doesn’t mean he’ll give up his fellow zealots.”

  Zealots. Extremists. Insurgents. “He said Mellie and someone else organized the mine protest,” I said.