by B. T. Narro
Steffen often forgot how different the Krepp really looked compared to Humans, especially when Zoke was speaking their language. But being the only Krepp in the room made him look like a fish on land.
Still unused to the Krepp’s natural musk, Steffen sat next to Alarex instead.
“Hi, Alex,” he said. But then Steffen noticed the cuts all over Zoke. “What happened?”
“Sneaky Human bastards.” Zoke grunted and went back to his food, as if expecting Steffen to understand what that meant.
Looking over to Alex, Steffen saw he was smiling. “Zoke had some trouble on Warrior’s Field.”
“Only during team combat,” Zoke added. “I can beat anyone when it’s just them and me.”
“You haven’t fought Cleve yet,” Alex said. “They say no one has scored even a point against him.”
Steffen nearly choked as he jumped from the bench. “He’s back?”
“No…” Alex’s voice slowly faded, as did his grin. “I was just—”
“But do you know that he’s coming back?” Steffen asked.
“You misunderstand,” Alex stated calmly. “I know nothing more about him being sent to or coming back from Goldram than you do.”
“Oh.”
“This isn’t the first time I’ve heard you Humans talk about Cleve,” Zoke said. “All I know about him is that I’m staying in his room. Who is he?”
“Remember Terren, the head of the Academy and the one who led our group when we traveled to the Slugari colony?” Alex asked.
“The one with yellow hair,” Zoke added. “Of course.”
“Cleve is his nephew.” Alex tilted his head. “Do you know this word?”
Steffen always smiled when Zoke tried to remember a word. The face the Krepp made was so Human that it was eerie to see it on another creature. His lipless mouth would purse, a vertical line would form in the middle of his hairless brow, and he’d often grumble as he thought.
“Nephew is a sibling’s son, right?” Zoke asked. “So Terren has a brother or sister, and Cleve is their son?”
“That’s right,” Steffen said, “except that Terren’s brother died a while back. Cleve has been living with Terren instead.”
“You might like Cleve,” Alex said with a laugh. Steffen couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “Sometimes you remind me of him. You two can be quite similar.”
Zoke motioned like he was about to spit onto the floor next to him, but he stopped himself just before releasing the saliva. He made a disgusted face, then said, “No Human is like me.”
After lunch, Steffen met with Jack Rose at the master chemist’s house.
Expecting questions about his experience within the Slugari colony, Steffen was shocked when the first thing Jack said was, “You have to stop all experimentation with growth potions. Do you understand?”
His tone was so serious, Steffen immediately agreed. “I will.”
“Good.”
It was during the following silence when Steffen’s curiosity began to prod at him like a sharp stick, creating questions that needed to be answered in order for it to stop.
“What’s changed?” Steffen asked. They’d spoken frequently of growth potions, but mostly about the specific ingredients Steffen had been using.
Jack had worn a skeptical expression during those conversations. At first, Steffen thought the master chemist didn’t believe him. But later he realized that the grimace was a sign of unvoiced disapproval.
And now that voice finally has come out.
“I’ve done enough research to make a decision,” Jack answered. “And the potential that your research will lead to harm is far too great, even during times of war.”
Steffen remembered what Jack had told him the first time they’d met: “Potions can be far more dangerous than weapons. We chemists have to be very careful. Some mixtures could change the world forever.”
He had fear for what I was doing, even then. But what had Jack found in his research that made him ignore the obvious advantage a growth potion could give them against the Krepps? What could be so bad?
“There’ve been experiments,” Jack continued. “All of them ending badly, many resulting in the loss of lives.”
After what happened to Marratrice, Steffen saw how this could be the case. “I understand,” he said.
“Do you have any rats left that you’ve used for experimentation? If so, bring them to me and I’ll take care of the extermination.”
“You have a poison?” Steffen asked before he realized what he was implying.
It was against the rules of the kingdom to make or possess poisons of any kind. But are the teachers and the King’s staff exempt from this rule?
“I can’t answer that.” Jack had a stern look in his eyes. “Do you have any rats?”
“Not anymore. The last one died.”
Jack took in a slow breath. “Very well, on to other business.” He wiped his hands on each other and then offered one for Steffen to shake. “I want to offer my congratulations for the success of your trip to the Slugari colony. I know the Elf fell helping the rest of you safely retreat, and we’ll hold a memorial ceremony for him later. Because of him and the rest of you, we’re now allied with the Slugari. Thank you.”
Steffen shook the man’s hand. It felt wrong to be alive and congratulated when Vithos wasn’t, but the firm grasp of Jack’s grip was somewhat calming and helped alleviate the grief twisting within him.
“But communication with the Slugari has just begun,” Jack continued. “I’m sure we’ll need to meet with them again, and you’ll most likely be chosen to join whatever group is sent. They know you, and you speak their language. I just wanted you to be prepared for that.”
“Thank you, but there’s little I feel unprepared for anymore,” Steffen said. He wasn’t intending to boast, only admit a fact. “I didn’t mean to imply—”
“No need to explain,” Jack interrupted with a wide smile. “I’m proud to see you’ve become more confident. These days, we expect confidence from everyone, because without confidence all we have is hope…and hope is never enough on its own.”
“But we must always have hope as well, right?”
“Yes—oh, how does that phrase go that my father used to tell me?” Jack drummed his fingers along his cheek. “That’s it: What has a beginning but never ends? It thrives on itself, needing no other friends. It wavers and swells, like the sea. Sometimes more stubborn than a king’s decree.”
“Hope?” Steffen guessed, figuring that had to be the answer.
“A drunken warrior trying to recite a poem.”
Steffen laughed.
“Yeah, I like that joke.” Jack halted his grin to gesture with his finger in a serious manner. “But hope is the real answer.”
Chapter 12:
EFFIE
Battle training hadn’t changed much since Effie left. Fireballs, fireballs, and more fireballs. They were the most useful spell. Although, Effie hoped her instructor, Marie Fyremore, had something else she could teach the mages that was more likely to kill a Krepp in one cast, which Effie had told her within the first moments since training had begun.
“I don’t care how tough their skin is,” Marie retorted. “There’s no way a Krepp can survive one of my fireballs.” The old woman grunted and whipped her wand at a metal training dummy, releasing a fireball that had to have been at least five feet in diameter. It exploded into the dummy, leaving a hiss as the metal sizzled.
“Keep training, and eventually you can cast with the strength that I can,” Marie concluded, turning to address the class before Effie could comment.
And how many years will that take? Effie wondered, her snide inner voice louder than usual.
She hadn’t given up yet on convincing Marie. Even if one fireball had the potential to kill a Krepp, there must be other spells the master mage knew that could be more effective.
Meanwhile, Effie followed the routine as instructed: shoot a series of fireballs, ge
t pointers from Marie on how to improve, and then shoot more fireballs. Effie became bored the first hour into it, taking her time as she drank from the water basin during a moment of rest.
While holding her half-filled cup, she let her mind wander. Did Reela let her ears show when she left the house? What are people going to say? I’ll bet she gets more stares than Zoke.
In a blink, the cup was blasted from her hand and she let out a scream. The water sprayed everywhere, some of it finding her face and hair.
She knew it had to have been a fireball, a small one at that. First she noticed that a few students were laughing, and then Effie quickly found Marie’s glare among a group of them.
“Why didn’t you block my fireball, green mage?” Marie taunted, referring to Effie’s focus on Sartious Energy.
“Try that again now that I’m ready.” Effie took the wand from her belt and began to focus the arduous task of drawing in heavy SE.
But she knew as soon as she’d spoken that her pride had gotten the better of her. Effie was nowhere near skilled enough to stop one of Marie’s fireballs, and the old woman knew this, showing Effie a mocking grin.
“Are you sure you’re ready?” Marie asked.
Effie stepped away from the water basin, wondering how she was going to talk her way out of this one without embarrassing herself.
She wouldn’t actually put her full strength into it, Effie thought. She wouldn’t kill her own student.
But Effie started to question herself when Marie’s mouth became level and she sucked in a deep breath.
With her wand hand, Marie flicked her arm toward Effie in an underhand motion. A faint line of Sartious Energy, tall but thin, flew toward her. Marie used her other hand to make the same motion, as if rolling a ball. The thin cloud of SE caught on fire from what Effie knew to be a thick stream of Bastial Energy coming from Marie’s bare hand.
The line of fire was taller than Effie, making her believe she couldn’t stop it with her own SE, even if she tried. She heard herself screaming as she jumped to the side, tripping and rolling across the sand of the training grounds.
But when she looked back, the fire had stopped before it reached her.
“You didn’t even try to block it!” Marie complained.
“How did you do that?” Effie had never seen such a spell. The other students seemed just as interested, chiming in with their own questions.
“Gather in front of me here and I’ll explain.” Marie gestured with her wand. No one moved at first. Then the old instructor seemed to realize she was still holding her weapon. She smiled forgivingly, putting it on her belt and using her finger to point instead.
As Effie joined the group, Marie started to explain, “By now, all of you should know that Sartious Energy can act as both a component of fire and a defense against it. I like to think of SE as being like wood. There are degrees to wood, making some types very flammable and others not at all. In fact, wooden shields made of ironbark can be just as effective at stopping a fireball as a shield made of metal, although a Sartious shell is better than both.”
Effie already knew this. Being in Group One, she figured most of the students with her did as well. But Effie had no idea how Marie had such control over both energies to make a stream of fire and then have it stop just before reaching her.
“The density of SE makes all the difference between whether or not heat will light it ablaze or be absorbed,” Marie continued. “The more air that mixes in with the SE, the less heat is needed to make fire. So for my spell, I needed to know the exact amount of SE to create a line of fire that would stop before reaching the beautiful training gown of Effie Elegin, as I’d hate to ruin such gorgeous fabric.”
Many of the students laughed at Marie’s quip. Effie’s gown was probably the ugliest of the bunch, half of it charred from errant fireballs, the other half discolored from heat.
“But how could you have so much control over Sartious Energy?” Effie asked.
“Years of practice.” Marie shrugged while giving her obvious answer. “Earlier, you wanted to know of a spell stronger than a fireball, but the question made me realize that you’re looking at training in the wrong way. Besides fireballs, the rest of your time should be put toward mastering the manipulation of SE. Then you can come up with your own spells for each situation.” Marie stopped and tilted her head. “Do you understand?”
“I suppose,” Effie answered, letting her disappointment show. “Though I was hoping to learn a new spell today.”
“Think of magic like a sword.” Marie let her glance wash over her students before continuing, making sure she had everyone’s attention. “Warriors may learn how to swing a sword, but the most skilled warriors are those that know how to beat their opponents. This is what battle ultimately comes down to. It’s not about who can cast the biggest fireball or who can swing a sword the hardest. It’s about situational awareness and understanding every opportunity available to you in order to bring down your enemy.”
“Then why do we spend so much time focusing on fireballs?” Effie asked.
“Fireballs are to mages as strength is to warriors. If a man can’t swing his sword for more than a few minutes without tiring, then it doesn’t matter how skilled he is. Fireballs are our main tool of destruction, and they are the building blocks to more complicated spells. But you’ve been gone, Effie.” Marie wagged her finger. “We’ve been training with far more than fireballs in your absence, which you’re about to find out.”
Marie stuck her finger in her mouth to whistle. “Enemies coming from the east!” she shouted. “Line up and ready your energy!”
All thirty mages, except for Effie, turned to face the metal training dummies. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they held out their wands. Marie stood behind them, her face contorted with feigned aggression as she continued to yell.
“Warriors from Tenred have broken through our wall! Fire!”
Many of the students grunted as they focused to release Bastial and Sartious Energy. A river of fire tore across the sand and crashed into the training dummies, rolling up their metal chests and spiraling into the sky.
About half of the young mages were panting when it was over, but all wore wide grins.
“Bastial hell,” Effie said. “Even a Krepp couldn’t survive that.”
“Ready to stop your complaining and get back to training?” Marie had a showy smile to match her teasing cadence.
By the time Effie got back to her student house, she felt as if her mind had become liquid. It sloshed around with each step she took, producing no thoughts, hardly recognizing a feeling besides exhaustion.
She knew she should’ve been surprised to see Brady sitting at the kitchen table with Reela, but the feeling simply didn’t come.
“What are you doing here?” Effie asked, realizing afterward how rude she’d sounded. But she was too tired to apologize.
“I was just hearing about your trip to the Slugari colony,” Brady answered with a wide smile that Effie didn’t understand.
And I thought Reela smiled a lot. Well…not so much recently.
“Hi, Eff.” Reela approached. Effie let out her arms for their usual greeting of a hug. On her way over, Effie noticed that her friend’s ears were out. Effie smiled at the sight, but she couldn’t think of anything to say.
Being far taller than Effie, Reela had to lean down to whisper, “He’s handsome, and he really likes you.”
“It doesn’t take psyche for me to know that,” Effie whispered back. “Your ears…”
“I know,” Reela said. “From the number of people asking me about them today, I’d wager that by the end of tomorrow everyone in the Academy will be aware that I’m half Elf.” Reela had a cheery tone. “And the sooner they get used to it, the better. I don’t know how Zoke deals with all the staring.”
“Not very well,” Effie said.
Brady politely waited by the table, pretending to busy himself with a vial filled with some substance. He had his ha
nds closed around it.
“I’m going to study in my room,” Reela announced, leaving them alone.
Effie headed toward a seat, curious as to what Brady had brought now that it had become apparent it was some sort of potion.
“Don’t I get one also?” Brady held out his arms for a hug.
Effie folded her arms. “That depends on why you’re here.”
“For the best reason of all.” He paused to raise a finger, arching his eyebrows. “I have a gift for you.”
“Then in that case…” Effie pushed herself against him, wrapping her arms around his back as he pulled her in.
She was somewhat self-conscious about her marred training gown, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“So Reela has an interesting background.” Brady’s tone was as if he were tossing a fishhook into the water, waiting to see if Effie would latch on so he could pull her in.
Curious what Brady had to say about it, Effie answered, “She sure does.”
“She says you’ve known each other since you were children. When did you find out?”
“Just recently,” Effie admitted with embarrassment.
Brady seemed to be holding in a laugh.
“Shut up.” Effie playfully smacked him in the stomach. Then she realized something disconcerting. “Wait, is this gift you brought me that potion you have on the table?”
“Don’t judge it just yet.”
Effie ignored his advice and let out a judgmental grumble. “Is it going to make me want to take my clothes off or something?”
“So I’m that obvious?”
Effie knew he was partially joking, but she still hadn’t gotten used to how forward he was.
Brady brushed her wavy dark hair off her cheek, looking as if he was about to lean down and kiss her. His eyes were the same blue of a clear afternoon sky, his teeth whiter than clouds.
His body seemed to be naturally lean and strong, as if he’d simply been born muscular and had never done a push-up. Most chemists didn’t look like Brady, which made it easy to forget that he was one.
Not just chemists, Effie corrected herself. Most men in general don’t look like Brady.
