by Helen Harper
“Initiate Smith,” he stated drily.
I inclined my head. “Dean Michaels.” I made to move past him but he blocked my way.
“So, you think that you can train our Initiates better than our own teachers, do you?”
One, two ,three, four, five. “Uh, no, I don’t. They asked me to give them some extra help, and I said I would. You know, in the interests of the academy and all. In order to make them the best possible graduates you can ask for so that when they enter the real world they are fully prepared.” Six, seven, eight.
“I hardly think that you are best qualified to do so. Your track record in the real world as you call it, is hardly exemplary.”
Nine, ten. It wasn’t working. Fucking Corrigan and his big mouth. “Well, if you think it’s a bad idea, then I will happily tell them so.”
“And have you turn my own students against me?” he hissed. “Don’t think I can’t see your own petty machinations for what they are.”
Wow, did this guy have a god complex or what? “I have no machinations, Dean. Nor do I have any designs or plans or ulterior motives.” I looked at him directly in the eye. “All I want to do is to get through your training so that the Arch-Mage will release my friend. That’s it.”
He glared at me. “And what do you hope to achieve by meeting clandestinely with the Lord Alpha?”
I must have looked surprised at this because he laughed without humour and continued. “Oh, did you think I wouldn’t hear about your little assignation? Do not suppose for one moment, Initiate Smith, that you can get away with telling the Pack all about us. I will not permit it.”
Assignation? I blinked furiously, feeling the inevitable surge of heat. “It wasn’t me who told him that I’d be there. It was one of you lot. So if you don’t want me to talk to him, then you’ll have to do a better job of keeping your mages in line. Besides, if I want to talk to the Lord Alpha, then I’ll talk to the Lord sodding Alpha.” I didn’t, of course, in the slightest want to have further tete-a-tetes with Corrigan, but the Dean didn’t have to know that.
“Oh, ‘my mages’ as you so eloquently put them, are more than loyal. But don’t worry, I’ve already put in a report to the Arch-Mage. I don’t expect it will be long before you hear more from him.”
Oooh, scary, I thought sarcastically. I visualised a calm sea of tranquility inside myself, one of the techniques that Bryant had encouraged I utilise. “Then so be it, Dean Michaels. I shall look forward to his orders.”
The Dean’s face twisted momentarily, then he managed somehow to smooth over his features and dissemble. Without saying another word, he side-stepped from the doorway, unblocking my way, and gestured outside with a flourish as if to highlight that it was only through his whim that I was being allowed to venture outside. For my part, I didn’t even bother trying to smile at him; I just kept my expression blank and slid past him and into the sunny freedom of the outdoors.
As soon as I’d gone a few steps from the building, I began to stomp, kicking up a spray of gravel as I went. Bloody guy. He seemed to be under some bizarre delusion that I was a threat to his stupid academy, or that I was meeting Corrigan voluntarily in order to undermine the entire Ministry. Idiot. Then I took several deep breaths and instead congratulated myself on not going nuts and attacking him. Perhaps I was making some progress after all.
By the time I made it out towards the back of the garden, I was feeling considerably calmer. Mary, Brock, Aqmar and Deborah were already there and waiting. I could feel a buzz of excited tension about the entire group of them. I felt a surprising twinge of trepidation. Sure, I’d coached Tom a few times on his technique back in Cornwall, but this was entirely different. I thought about what had been said about my failure to take down Iabartu on my own and wondered if it was just because I wasn’t good enough. Maybe I’d just end up disappointing this group of over-eager teenagers too. Trying not to let my doubts show on my face, I strode up to them with purpose, and smiled.
In order to gauge what their skill set really was, I began by pitting them against each other, Deborah against Mary and Brock against Aqmar. They spent a lot of time circling each other aimlessly, occasionally jabbing out with a fist here and there. At one point, Aqmar lunged out with probably more force than he’d planned, and he caught Brock’s cheekbone with his outflung hand. Hissing in pain, Brock reacted without thinking, jetting out a shot of blue flame not dissimilar to that which I’d seen from the mages up in Inverness. However Aqmar blocked it easily.
I watched them, thinking carefully. They just knew each other too well and were simply too cautious. Not only that but they had all been trained in the same way and probably by the same mages, so they knew exactly what the other was going to do before they did it. As all their training up till now seemed to have been focused on the defense element of Protection, I decided to test my theory. I had the boys and Deborah line up, with Mary facing them. Then I instructed Mary to attack them and for them to block whatever came their way. As I’d expected, every time Mary tried any kind of assault, the three of them easily managed to dodge, ward or even duck her attempts. I did the same with the others, rotating them round. The results didn’t change.
Nodding to myself, I told all four of them to line up to block my own attacks. I decided to keep things simple for now, and avoid potentially hurting any of them with my own personal experimentation, so I kept my green fire carefully extinguished within. Then I feinted left but twisted right and managed to knock over both Aqmar and Deborah with one shot. I danced back, trying not to smile at them both sprawled in an ungainly fashion on the wet grass. My robes were proving rather cumbersome and, whilst the handicap against would probably not be a bad thing, it was just too annoying to deal with in reality. Figuring that mages were definitely not as used to nudity as shifters were, I resisted the urge to extricate myself entirely from the blue material and fight in my underwear and instead bunched the folds up in a corner next to my hip and tied them into a knot, all the while keeping Brock and Mary clearly within my sights in case they tried anything. I think, however, they were a little too stunned at the speed with which I’d managed to dispatch their peers to consider trying any kind of counter attack.
Feeling a bit freer, if no doubt looking rather ridiculous, I judged the distance between myself and the remaining two. It seemed do-able, and there was a large tree right behind the pair of them that would suit my needs perfectly. I ran towards the pair of them, Brock starting to cower automatically whilst Mary, bless her, at least managed to form a weak ward with her magic in front of her body. But I wasn’t attacking them from the front. Rather I leapt over them, using Brock’s shoulder as a step to aid my ascent, then pivoted off the tree behind them, spinning in the air, and hitting both on the back of the necks. I didn’t hit them hard, but they both still went down, groaning. I dusted off my hands and strolled back in front of them. I didn’t want to acknowledge how glad I was that I hadn’t entirely lost all my fighting skills, even if my opponents were green students who would probably lose against a nymph, let alone someone trained by shifters.
Eventually they gathered themselves to their feet. There was a note of awe on all their faces that made me feel rather uncomfortable, so before they could say anything, I spoke up loudly.
“You’re too complacent and too used to fighting, or rather defending, in the patterns you’ve been taught. If you do the expected, then you will always lose. The best fighters, the ones who win, are those who take the element of surprise and make it their own. You need to get yourselves out of the box that you’ve been trained into and play more dirty than that.”
The four of them nodded vigorously, as if they were hanging off my every word. Again I felt a wave of discomfort, so I quickly assigned each of them their own tree, telling them that they had five minutes to ‘fight’ the tree, each time hitting it in a different way or in a different place. It took them a minute or two to get into the swing of things, but once they did, there was no denying their energy o
r enthusiasm. Each one of them jumped around the poor trees like maniacs, hitting them first one way then another. I was pleased to note that they all attempted ducking and leaping, as well as lashing out. By the time they were done, the four Initiates were panting hard.
Mary collapsed onto the ground. “By the founder! Who would have thought that attacking a piece of wood would be so tiring?”
I laughed and pulled her to her feet, then set about showing them all how they could use their feet as well as their hands to develop and implement attacks. That was less successful, and both Aqmar and Deborah lost their balance twice, falling backwards and leaving themselves open to potential side attacks, but I was satisfied for now. I set them all homework: to come out and practise at least three times over the next week, and then left them to it, the four of them lying on the ground and giggling like school children. Which I supposed they actually were.
Heading back to the main building, I undid the corner of my robes, and let them fall softly down to my feet, noting that once again I seemed to have managed to crumple and wrinkle the material. I shrugged to myself, for a moment idly wondering how on earth the other mages managed to always look so pristine and well turned out. At least the mages weren’t obliged to always wear the robes once they were out of the academy, I figured. I still had a vivid image seared into my brain of the bizarre clothes that Martha, Mary’s sister, and her Star Trek buddy, had been wearing when I’d kicked the shit out of them up in Inverness, and I knew I’d definitely never seen Alex wearing any robes when he’d been in either Cornwall or London. Maybe their, um, individual attire was as a direct result of being made to dress like idiots when they were training.
I rounded the corner of the main building, wandering back on a different route, this time swinging left rather than right so that I was closer to the training blocks than to the gardens. Humming away to myself with the success of the morning, I didn’t notice the figure leaning against one of the walls until I’d virtually passed him.
“Well, someone’s having a truly bodacious day,” drawled a familiar voice.
I spun round, heart suddenly leaping in my chest. “Alex?” I bear-hugged him then pulled back to look him over. “I was just thinking about you! How the bloody hell are you? What are doing here? Are you staying long?”
“It’s good to see you too, Mack Attack. And I’m good, here to see you and staying for as long as you need me.”
This was almost too good to be true. The last time I’d seen my magic surfer buddy had been after I’d broken into the Ministry’s headquarters. I’d kind of had the idea that I’d perhaps gotten him into trouble by mere association. That, and the fact that he’d been a true friend to me by refusing to give up my real identity as a Draco Wyr to the Arch-Mage. I hugged him again.
“Really? You’re really staying?”
“A little bird told me that you might be in need of a bit of help and support. So as long as there aren’t any Otherworld nasties around that I have to fight on your behalf then I am here, natch. The Arch-Mage dude has released me from my other duties. I will be the surf to your swell, the flat to your gnarly, the bomb to your point break.”
“You realise I have no idea what you’re talking about, right?”
“Mack Attack,” he shook his head sadly, “nobody ever does.”
I beamed my happiness at him, ignoring for once the stupid nickname.
He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Mack, I also really need your help. I’m in so much trouble and I’ve really screwed up.”
This time, when he pulled away, his eyes were filled with worry and his brow was uncharacteristically creased. Prickles of answering heat pulsated through my veins.
There wasn’t any time for Alex to even open his mouth to begin to explain what the matter was before the damn bell rang again, presumably for lunch as today was a Saturday, and the area suddenly filled with initiates wearing robes of every potential colour under the sun. Fractious flames rippled up and down my spine at the forced interruption.
“Where on earth do they all come from?” I muttered.
Alex smiled half-heartedly and began to pull me in the same direction as the others were heading. “I’m now your Divination teacher,” he said, in a voice that was considerably calmer than the one he’d used to broadcast his whispered plea.
“Huh,” I replied, mirroring his attempt to appear completely normal. An utterly pointless act given that anyone watching our movement through the crowds would have picked us out as anything but ordinary. It was as if there were some kind of strange invisible barrier about a metre around the pair of us that no-one else dared to cross, even though they were squashed between the exterior walls of the various surrounding buildings. I would have been tempted to start veering off in different directions, just to see what happened, if it hadn’t been for the gravity of what Alex had just said and my desire to get somewhere fast where we could talk without being overheard.
“So how did you swing that one, then?” I said, with every semblance of appearing unconcerned that I could possibly muster up.
“Turns out it wasn’t that hard after all. I went to speak to Higgins, the normal Level One Divination dude and he seemed only too happy to let me take you off his hands. It was almost as if he was frightened of you.” Alex raised his eyebrows slightly, floppy blond hair falling to the side over his suntanned face. “I can’t imagine why anyone would be afraid of a skinhead ex-shifter who can shoot freaky green fire from her fingertips and who was prepared to break into the Ministry stronghold just to have a little chat.”
I shrugged. “The skinhead thing is only temporary. And it wasn’t just a little chat that I wanted. I was trying to save my friend - I’m still trying to save my friend. It turns out your ‘Magnificence’ is the commitment type.”
He put his arm round my shoulder and glared at a fresh-faced looking initiate who was staring at me with what could only be described as the same way an arachnophobe would inspect at a giant hairy tarantula. And I’d thought that between Mary and her friends, relations between myself and the other Initiates were improving. More fool me.
“Yeah, where is your friend?” asked Alex. “Last you told me she was in Inverness with you. I know the place you were in burnt down to the ground, and I know that it can be virtually impossible to move someone with enforced inhibitory gnosis even if they are as strong as you.”
I was surprised that the Arch-Mage hadn’t already told him, and despite the throng of students around us couldn’t see that it was supposed to be a secret. “She’s in Tir-na-Nog.”
I could feel Alex’s muscles stiffen even through the thick material of my robes. “No way, dude.”
I nodded solemnly. “Yes way, dude.”
“Is that where you left your hair?”
I winced. “No, that’s another story.”
“Well, now I’m here full-time you’ll have plenty of opportunity to spill it to me.”
I smiled, trying to focus on my happiness that my old friend was here with me, and not on the tug of fiery worry that churned inside me.
Chapter Ten
Rather than following the streams of hungry students in the familiar direction of the cafeteria, Alex and I peeled off and wound our way through the other buildings until we reached the end. He led me to a small stone bench set into a snug bricked off alcove round the corner of the crumbling Protection block. We both sat down, facing outwards.
Alex wrung his hands and sighed deeply. Then he turned to face me. “Mack Attack, I’ve really fucked up. I don’t know what else to do or who to talk to.”
I stared across at him, empathy and concern filling me. “You can tell me, Alex. What has happened?”
A bird chirruped overhead and he almost jumped out of his skin, his eyes tracking it nervously until it flew off. “You never know who might be listening,” he muttered.
Feeling nervous now, as well as worried, I reached and put my hands over his. “You know you can trust me, Alex.”
He nodded, then looked up to me with angst filled eyes. “I had a job last week. A Divination job. That’s where I have to…”
I interrupted him. “I know what Divination is.”
He shook himself. “Of course you do. Anyway, the job was to track down some daft objet d’art for this vamp.”
“You work for vampires?” I couldn’t prevent myself from recoiling ever so slightly.
“Of course we do. Do you think that shifters are the only ones who need to use a bit of magic now and then? They’re not all bad, Mack, they just have some unpleasant eating habits. Anyway, are you going to keep interrupting or can I tell my story?”
I shook my head in apology, now more worried than ever. The note of irritation in Alex’s voice was not at all the friendly surfer dude that I knew. I squeezed his hands to continue.
“Anyway, I had to retrieve this thing, some kind of statue. A wooden sculpture of Athena called the Palladium. According to mythology, it was held within the walls of Troy and the legend went that as long as it remained there, Troy would remain undefeated. So, unsurprisingly, Odysseus and his mate Diomedes sneaked in and nicked it, Troy fell and blah de blah. Then the Palladium ended up in the hands of the Romans, but of course it didn’t stay there for long. The vamps somehow got their hands on it and used it as a symbol of their omnipotence and undefeat. Naturally it was all bullshit though.”
“Naturally,” I murmured.
“The vamps’ stronghold was broken into years ago by a wraith thief called Tryyl, and several artifacts were taken, the Palladium among them. Tryyl was caught and tortured horribly and the vamps recovered everything pretty much apart from the statue. Nobody really cared all that much. It was ceremonial and the vamps felt their honour had been restored through the mental and physical destruction of Tryyl so although they looked for it, they didn’t really search all that hard, you get me?”
