by Helen Harper
I bent over and brought my face closer to his. “Brock? Are you alright?”
“Fantashtic.” He fell sideways and proceeded to curl up into a small ball, hugging his knees to himself.
Okaydokay. I reached down and prodded him. “You can’t sleep here, Brock. You need to get back to your dorm.”
He mumbled something incoherently. I sighed deeply and knelt down.
It seemed impossible that he’d sneaked out on his own, so I looked around for a moment and tried to strain my ears to hear if anyone else was coming. There was the rumble of a few distant cars, but little else. I shook his shoulder. “Brock? Where are your friends?”
He raised up a heavy arm and waved vaguely back in the direction that he’d come from. “Shtill there.” He pulled himself back to a sitting position, although he was swaying alarmingly from side to side. A sudden mournful puppy dog expression filled his face. “Deborah’s shtill there.”
Ah. “She didn’t want to come back with you?”
“No.” He harrumphed. “All she wantsh to do ish to talk about Thomash.” He put on a high-pitched squeaky voice. “Thomash ish sho handshome. He knowsh sho much and he’sh shtill sho shexy.” He sagged backwards again then reverted to his normal voice. “I hate Thomash.”
I thought I could understand that. I certainly didn’t think that he was ‘sho shexy’ anyway. “Okay, Brock. Have you told Deborah that you like her?”
His unfocused eyes swivelled round towards me. “There’sh no point. She likesh Thomash. She jusht thinksh I’m her friend.”
I patted his shoulder sympathetically. “Maybe you should do something about that.”
“Nothing to do,” he mumbled. “Who do you like?”
“Excuse me?”
“Who do you like?” Brock’s eyes narrowed for a moment. “Do you like Thomash too?”
“No, I don’t like Thomash, I mean Thomas. Not like that anyway.” A sudden image of Corrigan glinting at me flashed before my eyes. “I don’t like anyone at this moment in time. Now, let’s get you to bed.”
I stood up, and pulled Brock to his feet, where he wavered unsteadily. Then I hooked his arm around my shoulder and began to half pull him towards the gates. It was a struggle getting him to move. We pushed through the small gap, my skirt snagging momentarily on the rusted catch. When I managed to extricate myself, Brock was staring at me with a funny expression on his face.
“That’sh Deborah’sh shkirt. Why are you wearing it?”
“Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. It’s not really my normal choice of attire.” I thought about the grooming session that both Deborah and Mary had invited me to earlier in the evening and hoped for Brock’s sake that it hadn’t been for Thomas’ benefit. Then again, although I didn’t know the contrary mage very well, I somehow doubted that schoolgirls were his type.
We made our way slowly up the driveway, pausing every few minutes for Brock to avoid falling over flat on his face. He chattered away the entire time, mainly about how wonderful Deborah was, although I struggled to make out every word. By the time we reached the academy buildings, my shoulder was really starting to ache.
Brock turned towards me, a serious look in his eyes. “You know, Baldilocksh, you’re okay.”
I winced. “Please call me Mack.”
He swayed momentarily and lost his footing, falling heavily onto me. I forced him back upright.
“’kay, Mackilocksh. But, I mean it. I thought you were shcary. You alwaysh look as if you’re about to eat shomeone. But you’re actually alright.” He nodded to himself. “I like you.”
I smiled at him. “Yeah, Brock. I like you too.”
He frowned for a moment. “I don’t like you like that. You’re pretty but you’re kind of old.”
I snorted. “Thanks for the hit to my ego.”
“Anytime.” He grinned at me lopsidedly before staggering off to his left.
I’d been concerned about how on earth I was going to get him through the cafeteria window, but I should have known that he’d have a more sensible method of sneaking in and out. Round the back of the main building, close to where the Dean’s office was, there was a small door set into the brickwork that I’d not noticed before. Brock pushed his way in, with me following. He succeeded in crashing over a small table with a pretty vase set on it that caused such a racket I was convinced that the entire academy must have heard it. However, after a few moments it became thankfully obvious that everyone else was still in the land of nod. Breathing a sigh of relief, the pair of us made our way slowly up the stairs and round to where the boys’ dorms were.
“I can make it from here, Mackilocksh.”
I stared at him doubtfully but he snapped his heels together and gave me a sloppy salute that suggested some flicker of consciousness, so I let him go, watching the drunk teenager weave his way dramatically towards his room. He bounced off a couple of walls, but eventually made it to what he must have been his door and fell inside. Chuckling quietly to myself, I headed back to my own room too.
*
The next morning I awoke with more energy than by rights I should have had. I was feeling pleased with myself by now for having somehow managed to get the Lord of the almighty Brethren to bend to my almighty will, and particularly happy that I had a full day off to myself that I could devote to further translation. I tripped down to breakfast with a spring in my step, and poured myself my usual three cups of coffee before settling down. I had barely started on the first cup when Brock came stumbling in, with a distinctive shade of green under his usual pale skin. He slept walked over to the counter and got himself a giant glass of orange juice, then made his way over to me, slumping down into the chair just opposite.
He gulped down half of the glass in one go, then lay his head onto the table top, squinting up at me with just one eye open. “Thanks for last night,” he muttered.
I smiled and reached over, ruffling his hair. “Any time. Just don’t call me Mackilocksh again, or suggest that I’m old, and we’re even.”
He grinned weakly. A heartbeat later both Mary and Deborah came bouncing in. Either they hadn’t had as much to drink as Brock or they possessed the unnatural tendency of the young to remain hangover-free. Regardless, they both sat themselves down and began telling me how much fun I’d missed by not attending their pampering session the night before. I raised half an eyebrow, whilst Brock at least looked a bit guilty, but neither of us said anything else.
Deborah proudly displayed her fingers, splaying them out so that I could appreciate her immaculately created manicure. “Isn’t it a gorgeous shade of yellow?” She gushed. “It’s to match this darling little skirt that I’ve got.”
A wash of guilt ran over me. Her ‘darling little skirt’ was right now balled up into a corner underneath my bed. I made a mental note to sort it out and sneak it back down to the laundry later.
“We thought we might head down to the garden again, Baldilocks,” chirruped Mary happily. “Do you want to come?”
I was shaking my head to decline when Brock interrupted moodily. “It’s Mack.”
Mary looked at him surprised, still lying prone as he was on top of half of the table.
“Not Baldilocks. Call her Mack,” he repeated with a grumpy mutter.
I felt a warm rush of gratitude towards him. It was short lived, however, as both Alex and Thomas chose that moment to stroll into the cafeteria together. They seemed to be having some kind of close conversation that I didn’t like at all. Alex registered my presence and headed over, Thomas trailing in his wake. They both sat down next to us. Deborah’s face flushed red and I could just make out her gripping Mary’s arm in excitement. Brock just looked miserable.
“Goodness,” I commented loudly, in a bid to draw attention away from the pair of them. “And what has happened to make the great mage trainers deign to honour us with their presence?”
Thomas scowled at me, although Alex winked. It was easy to tell that he was desperate to find out what had hap
pened the night before with Corrigan, but after putting me through that horribly embarrassing episode, despite the satisfaction I felt at it now, I wanted to let him squirm for a little time longer.
“Oh, we thought we’d come and see how you dudes were doing,” drawled Alex with a hint of mischief flittering its way across his eyes. “You are all looking so fresh and well rested.”
“Mmm,” agreed Thomas, reaching over to grab a roll from the centre of the table. “It’s great that you all take your studies so seriously and use every opportunity you can to get a good night’s sleep so you can put your energies towards the day.” There was just the faintest hint of sarcasm in his voice, that was so barely there that for a moment I thought I’d imagined it. All three of the Initiates looked incredibly uncomfortable at his words though. I smirked. It appeared that the great and mighty Thomas actually had a bit of a sense of humour. Well, who knew?
Despite her over-powering excitement at sitting next to Thomas, the fear of their night’s proclivities being revealed was clearly too much for Deborah, and she stood up along with both Brock and Mary. The three of them made their apologies and quickly left the cafeteria, Brock tripping over a chair leg on his way in a manner that was incredibly reminiscent of his attempts at walking home the night before.
Thomas rolled his eyes. “They always think that they’re the first to sneak out and get pissed.”
Alex grinned and put his palm up as if to high five Thomas. When all he got was a stony faced response, he shrugged amiably and brought his hand down instead and looked at me. “So what did you get up to last night, Mack Attack?” The hopeful tone in his voice was amusing.
I took a sip of coffee. “Not much. Had an early night actually. I can’t keep up with these young folks.”
He kicked me suddenly under the table and I hissed in surprise more than pain. Thomas stared at me hard. I quit beating around the bush and put Alex out of his misery. “Besides, I wanted a quiet weekend now because next Saturday night I’m going to be rather busy.”
He tried not to look too interested. “Oh yeah, dude? And why’s that?”
Making a show of nonchalance, I waved a hand dismissively and said airily, “Oh, the Lord Alpha has invited me to some old party so I’ll need to get my glad-rags on.”
He almost leapt out of his chair, but just managed to restrain himself in time. Thomas frowned. “I don’t think the Dean will be very impressed that you are off gallivanting with head of the Brethren.”
I raised my eyebrows at Alex who nodded vigorously in understanding. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about the Dean, Mack Attack. I’m sure he’ll be reasonable.”
Thomas appeared particularly skeptical but let it go. I stood up, pushing my chair back. “Well, I’ve got some extra studying that I need to do. If you gentlemen will excuse me?”
Both the mages acknowledged my departure, Alex trying to communicate something to me with his eyes, but failing miserably. However, I was quite sure I’d catch up with him later so we could come up with a clear plan for what I’d do once I was at the party. Right now, I needed to spend a bit of time on myself. And that meant finally getting back to the Fae book.
Chapter Thirteen
I spent virtually the rest of the day holed up in my room, just me, a seemingly sentient Fae book and a dictionary. A couple of times there were knocks on the door, but I ignored them all. I was in the zone and determined to find out more about myself and my lineage.
I was getting faster and more adept with the translations. It was still painstakingly slow, of course, however I was starting to recognise some of the more common runes and their meanings and, while some sentences were pure gobbledegook, for the most part I thought I had a good understanding about what the book was telling me. I discovered that the dragon that had been changed into human form by the less-than-forward-thinking mage developed a “most egregious temper and vicious bouts of rage” that cast fear into the hearts of anyone who came across his path. Said dragon was clearly unimpressed with his new body and ended up killing his would-be benefactress by burning her to a crisp. He then proceeded to rape and pillage his way through various towns and villages, occasionally impregnating the poor maidens who got caught up in his violence.
I smoothed my hands over my shorn head, feeling the soft prickles of the newly grown hair against my fingertips, wondering yet again whether I was reading pure fantasy or whether the story was actually rooted in some form of fact. That was the difficult thing with the Otherworldian histories: you never really knew for sure what was real and what just mere legend. Part of me did feel rather buoyed up by my discoveries, however. If this ancient (and rather frightening and nasty) creature was indeed my great-grandfather several hundred generations removed, then it meant that maybe it wasn’t my fault that I had such a nasty temper. I sobered up slightly with the sudden idea that it might mean I’d never have any control over my temper or my bloodfire, and I still didn’t really know how the dragon-man had developed into a race called the Draco Wyr, although I thought I might be starting to get the idea with all of his sexual rampages. Eventually, when my eyes were starting to smart and the words were beginning to swim in front of me, I snapped the book shut and went in search of Alex, hoping we could have another real conversation without the hovering presence of Thomas or the Initiates around.
I picked my way around the grounds of the academy, trying first one direction and then the other. I must have passed hundreds of other Initiates, most of whom managed to suddenly remember that they’d forgotten something and wheel around abruptly in the opposite direction when they saw me coming. A couple did smile tentatively at me at least, which made me feel a little bit better. I avoided the garden area where Mary, Brock and the others would be, not really in the mood for getting caught up in another teaching session just yet. At one point, however, I even saw Mage Slocombe, whose eyes widened as soon as he caught sight of me. He all but tripped over his daft black robes in his haste to get away from me before I decided to engage him in conversation. I rolled my eyes. Whatever.
Thirty minutes later, I’d circled the entire compound, garden aside, and had seen absolutely no sign of Alex anywhere. I could feel heated coils of annoyance curl themselves through my intestines. Not only did I want to talk to him about the impending party, I was also desperate to confide in someone about what I’d read in the Fae book. Alex could potentially have some new insights that I’d not thought of before. He might even have a more effective way to get the book translated. Fuck. For all I knew he could read Fae. It wasn’t something we’d ever spoken about before.
Coming out from behind the back of the Protection block, I pursed my lips and considered my options. I wasn’t in the mood to continue to spend the last remaining hour of daylight searching for him. I tried to think logically about where he might be, but I was drawing a blank. The only thing I could think of would be that he’d gone off to catch some waves. That, however, was patently ridiculous. I knew that he had been desperate at breakfast to find out more about what had happened with Corrigan so there was no way that he’d have bunked off for the day. Besides anything, we were in the middle of the sodding countryside. I didn’t exactly know where the academy was, but I’d lived beside the sea for long enough to know that it was definitely miles away from here. Otherwise I’d have sensed the tang of salt in the air. I equally doubted that the Dean would allow portals to be created just so that various mages could go hobnobbing off on personal sojourns around the country.
I wondered whether I could create a short cut for myself for finding him. Yes, my previous Divination lesson had ended badly, but we’d been in a small enclosed space then. I was an outdoors kind of girl. There were no priceless paintings or nervous mages around who might inadvertently get hurt by my trying to see if I could invoke my inveniora to find Alex. A tiny insistent thought nudged at the back of my mind, telling me that out of all the ideas I’d ever had, this was by the far the stupidest, but I pushed it away. After all, aside from Protection,
Divination was the only discipline that I’d so far even had the faintest flicker of success with, even if that success had somewhat ended in disaster. At some point, if I ever wanted to leave this place, I’d have to get better at the magic stuff. Otherwise poor Mrs. Alcoon was doomed forever.
I chewed my lip, deciding. There wasn’t a soul around me so I really didn’t see what harm it could do. I sat down on the damp ground to begin. Then I stood back up again. Maybe it was better to try it standing? Damnit, I really didn’t know. I tried to concentrate, reminding myself what Higgins had done the previous week to get me started. All I had to do was reach inside myself, find the so-called energy that he’d spoken of and imagine it as a thread so I could pull it out. I reckoned that where I’d gone wrong before was trying to pull it out with too much force. If I just tried to be a teeny weeny bit more gentle, then surely I’d have more success.
Closing my eyes, and that seemed oddly to help, I pictured a smoky ball inside of me. I thought that perhaps I could feel the energy that I’d yanked on before, so I gave it a little tug, trying to pull it through my body. I felt a slight burn as I did so, but it was different to the usual sensation of my bloodfire heating up so, emboldened, I kept tugging. I felt it snake its way up through my chest and across my shoulders then filter out slowly down through my arm. Then I flicked my fingers and opened my eyes.
Almost immediately a bead of red smoke appeared, lazily casting itself out into the air. Yelping with delighted surprise, I watched it curve its way around my body, almost as if it had a mind of its own. I couldn’t believe it! I’d actually done something right for once. Realising that I wasn’t quite sure now how to make it trace after Alex so I could find him, I silently willed it to track him down. The inveniora ignored me and just lazily continued to spin round me, creating odd shapes in the still air of the early evening.
“Find Alex,” I commanded sternly.
The red smoke twisted its way down to my feet and lay there heavily, like some kind of bizarre lap dog.
