Twisted Sister of Mine (Overworld Chronicles)

by John Corwin

  Shelton shook his head. "Firstly, the Arcane Council would never want noms having access to this stuff, and secondly, because the Overworld Conclave forbids it."

  "But think of the good it could do society! Anti-gravity cars would be so wicked."

  He snorted. "Yeah, and I'd bet noms would love commuting on flying carpets. Never gonna happen."

  "Stupid politics," I said, grumbling.

  "There are a lot more noms than there are supers. If they had access to magic and our mad science, they'd have the edge, and Overworld politicians don't like that." Shelton shrugged. "They even have an entire division devoted to sabotaging nom scientists and recruiting those who are the most promising."

  "Didn't stop them from making nukes or digital watches," I said.

  He snorted.

  An announcement for the departure of the cable car to the university interrupted my thoughts. We hurried aboard just before it lifted. I realized an instant later why it didn't need cables. "This is a slider, isn't it?"

  "Yup." Shelton stared out the window as the spires of a castle rose into view.

  I watched as a girl wearing a pink arcane robe played a game on an arcphone. Some kid in a brown robe across from her glanced up from an old book and frowned. "You're on the wrong shuttle, techie."

  She wrinkled her forehead and gave him an unsure look, as if wondering if he'd spoken to her and not one of the many other students aboard. After meeting his stern gaze, she seemed to decide he was, indeed, talking to her. "The handbook said arcphones are allowed now." She shrugged. "Don't see how they can ban them anyways. Everybody has one." She looked around the cabin, as if searching for someone else to support her logic.

  The guy sneered. "If you suck at magic you might need one."

  "Kid, you might wanna join the real world," Shelton said. "'Cause I can think of a half-dozen things an arcphone can do better than a human brain and a staff." He pulled his phone out as though for emphasis. "It's a focus, just like a wand or staff, except it ain't made of wood, and it gives you a heck of a lot more computing power for complex spells."

  "Oh, please," the guy said.

  "Well, you sure as heck can't play Unicorns versus Zombies on your staff," the girl said, stuck out her tongue, and went back to playing.

  The student glared at Shelton. "A real Arcane doesn't need that garbage to do magic."

  "You're a lost cause," Shelton said, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. "Then again, you'll probably never amount to more than a magician."

  A chorus of "Oohs" went up from the other students, some of them grinning at the argument while others held out their phones, probably recording everything.

  The student's jaw dropped open, and his eyes filled with rage. "Do you know who I am?"

  A burst of laughter from the crowd only enraged him even more, just as the cable car, now a dizzying height above the valley below, thumped down in a landing zone.

  "Please tell me you did not just drop the 'I'm a big deal' card," the girl said. "That's just sad."

  "I am William Vanderbilt," the guy said. "And my father—"

  "I'm sure you're a real good magician," Shelton said, before the student could finish. "Maybe I'll buy you a top hat for graduation and come see you in Vegas." He threaded his way through snickering students and left the car.

  I squeezed through the crowd as William hurled obscenities at our backs.

  I knew Arcanes really hated terms like sorcerer, wizard, and warlock, but magician was apparently the lowest of the low.

  The landing zone sat atop a bluff overlooking the valley on one side and the plateau on the other. A long stone path led down a gentle slope. Trees dotted the verdant terrain. Narrow stone paths led to quaint cottages, and fields bordered by low stone walls held flocks of bleating sheep and goats. It reminded me of a setting from rural Ireland or Britain except for one thing.

  Arcane University.

  The sprawling campus looked like something straight out of the Middle Ages. A massive castle and several other mansion-sized outbuildings stretched across the terrain from one end to the other. A snow-blanketed mountain peak towered behind the university, its slopes covered by thick forest.

  The castle dominated the center of the complex, its walls composed of white stone bordered by gray and lined with arched windows. Soaring spires reached for the sky atop huge round towers that rose from all four corners, each one boasting intricate stone designs around the edges and windows. A long oval building of white stone with a transparent dome glittered like diamonds to the right of the castle, and something that looked like the Coliseum in Rome, only ten times bigger loomed behind it. Romanesque buildings that appeared to be housing facilities crowded the left side of the complex. A riot of colors bordered the east and west sides of the university—gardens, apparently.

  "What's that for?" I asked Shelton, pointing at the giant stadium.

  "That's where they hold the Grand Melee," he said.

  "The what?"

  Shelton gave me a surprised look. "That's right, I never told you, did I?" He grinned. "Imagine this: robots fighting golems in gladiator battles."

  "Ooh," I said. "That sounds cool."

  "Yeah, now imagine a giant robot from outer space fighting a golem the same size, shooting fire and laser beams at each other."

  My eyes went wide, and my mouth hung open. I might have even drooled.

  Shelton's grin grew wider.

  "That's the Grand Melee?" I asked.

  "In a nutshell." He headed out on the stone path toward the looming castle. "They have team fights with man-sized robots and golems, followed by middle-weights, and then by colossi."

  "Is it a competition between the Science Academy and Arcane University?"

  He nodded. "After Science Academy was built, the first dean kept bragging that science would replace magic and claimed it was more powerful and flexible. Things got pretty nasty between the two schools until an arbitration panel came up with the idea of letting the two schools duke it out by proxy."

  "With the Grand Melee," I guessed.

  "Yep. They hold it the last weekend of the first month of school."

  "At the end of this month?" I asked.

  He gave me a sly look. "Wanna go?"

  "Are you kidding me?" I said, barely able to contain my excitement. "Heck yeah!"

  Shelton laughed. "This place is gonna get crazy. People come from all over the world to see it."

  "Who could blame them?" I replied, fantasizing about laser beams and monstrous gladiators.

  As we neared the castle, several flying carpets streaked past, followed by a girl on a flying broom, and a guy on—I did a double take—a flying mop. "What the heck?" I said, following the strange sight with my eyes until the fliers vanished around the far end of the complex.

  "Get used to it," Shelton said.

  We reached the entrance to the castle, a massive stone arch, and stepped inside a cavernous hallway.

  The girl in pink robes passed us. She beamed a smile at Shelton. "Thanks for the help with that jerk on the sky car."

  Shelton snorted. "My pleasure, cupcake."

  The girl turned down a different hallway, walking backward as she did, and blew Shelton a kiss before spinning around and continuing on to her destination.

  "Damn, I miss those college girls," Shelton said, taking off his hat and running a hand through his thick hair.

  "Aren't you kind of old for them now?"

  He pshawed. "Man, I'm still in my twenties."

  "Early or late?"

  He didn't answer.

  "That's what I thought," I said, grinning.

  We walked down a carpeted hallway, took a spiral staircase up a few flights, and then took so many twists and turns I didn't know where we were anymore. At long last we reached a doorway with a placard outside that said "Miles Chamberlain, MhD."

  "Are you ready to start the assessment?" Shelton said, voice serious.

  I swallowed a ball of nerves and nodded. "Let'
s do this."

  Chapter 8

  Shelton stepped inside and rapped on the open wooden door.

  "Harry Shelton, as I live and breathe," said a baritone voice in a proper British accent. "Come on in!"

  I followed Shelton inside and saw a short man with curly graying hair, round spectacles, and what looked like a tweed robe.

  "Hey, Professor," Shelton said, a smile on his face that looked way too friendly to be the rough-edged Arcane I knew.

  "Have a seat," Miles said, gesturing toward a chair. He looked at me. "And this is the young man you spoke of?"

  Shelton nodded. "Yep."

  I shook the professor's hand. "I'm Justin Slade." It still felt strange calling myself that instead of Case, the fake last name my parents had used to hide from their respective families.

  "He's here for the assessment," Shelton said.

  "Absolutely," Miles said. He withdrew a wand from a desk drawer. "Let's head on down to a gauntlet room."

  Miles led us through a warren of corridors, down some stairs, and into a large circular space that reminded me a lot of Shelton's gauntlet room.

  "Wow, it's still here," Shelton said, looking at a particularly big black burn mark on the ceiling directly overhead. "Man, I remember when I did that."

  "You made that mark?" I asked, looking at Shelton.

  Shelton shrugged. "Trying to impress a girl. I ended up nearly burning my clothes off, and the blast propelled me into the ceiling."

  I snorted with laughter. "Why is it all your stories about impressing girls end up going horribly wrong?"

  "I think that's just the way it is with guys trying to impress girls." He grinned. "You might know a thing or two about that."

  I recalled trying to impress Katie Johnson with my live-action role playing skills, complete with foam sword and shield, and ended up getting my entire squad killed by the enemy team. "You know, I think you're onto one of those universal truths with that one."

  "I remember a time or two where my attempts to impress a girl went awry," Miles said while cleaning his glasses on a handkerchief. "I once tried summoning a demon, but instead brought forth a minor non-sentient entity called a skruk that defecated all over the floor and urinated all over Clarissa Dickson's boyfriend before I was able to banish it." He chuckled. "Oh, you should have seen her face after that." He sighed and looked into the distance. "She never did talk to me again."

  I stared in horror at Miles, wondering what in the world ever made summoning a demon a good idea. "That's terrible."

  He sighed. "Yes, I know. It's not very nice to ignore someone like that." Miles clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "Well, shall we get started?" He hummed to himself as he pointed his wand at a candle and sent it floating to a table sitting in an area configured like a target range. "Light that candle, if you don't mind, Justin."

  I'd done this sort of thing plenty of times, though it usually ended up with a molten pile of wax and a blazing table afterward. I looked at Shelton. He winked, nodded his head. I knew from doing this drill over and over that I didn't need to draw in any aether, since it only took precise focus and concentration to pull off. I was as precise as a bulldozer. I stared at the candle. Drawing upon my well, I pointed my practice wand at the candle and whispered, "Hadouken."

  A fireball the size and shape of my fist blasted toward the candle. It zipped through the air in a streak of flame, brushing the top of the candle, and splashing against the stone wall behind the table with a whoosh. I clenched my teeth, ready to curse my ineptitude, when I noticed the candle burning despite missing an inch of wax near the top.

  "Hmm," Miles said and made a note on a scrap of parchment. "Now, Justin, blow out the candle."

  I was tempted to use my supernatural lung capacity to do the trick, but figured Miles wouldn't go for it. Narrowing my eyes at the flickering flame, I drew on my well, focused my will, and pointed my wand at the candle while whispering, "Ventus." A gust of wind knocked the table over and sent the candle flipping end-over-end to land on the floor ten feet away from its original position.

  Again, Miles made a thoughtful sound and marked something down on his parchment. I imagined, at this point, his words described the hopelessness of my magical education.

  Over the next hour, he asked me to do things which, on the surface, seemed simple, but in reality were anything but. Most of them, I flat out didn't know how to do. Shelton and Bella hadn't gotten that far with me, so I only stood there with a constipated look on my face while I tried to levitate a feather and later tried to animate a stick figure made of toothpicks. By the time it was all over, I was sweating like a pregnant yak and ready to run screaming from the room.

  We followed Miles to his office where he ran his wand over me, quirked an eyebrow as a similarly ambiguous readout floated in the air before him as it had for the security guard at the doors to Queens Gate.

  "How odd," he said and made some notes. "You are Daemos?"

  I nodded. "And part human. My mom is an Arcane." I didn't dare tell him the truth of the matter.

  "I see." He stared at the parchment with his notes, most of which probably declared me magically incompetent and of questionable lineage, to boot. After a few minutes, he finally spoke. "Harry was quite right, my boy. You are gifted, but lack control in any sense of the word." He delivered the evaluation without a hint of condescension or derisiveness in his voice. "I suggest remediation for the time being, and we'll check on your progress by the end of the semester." He laid the parchment on the table and looked at Shelton. "Do you agree, Harry?"

  Shelton shrugged. "You hit the nail on the head."

  "Indeed." The professor looked at the parchment again. "His usage is well above ordinary. I would go so far as to say it is extraordinary, but he simply uses far too much for small tasks."

  "What about all the stuff I couldn't do?" I said. "The feather, that stick figure…" I trailed off, not really wanting to review the complete roster of tasks I'd been unable to perform.

  Miles smiled. "Most new students barely complete half the tests unless they attended other academies before coming here."

  His words made me feel somewhat better. At least I wasn't the only failure. "Is everyone here my age and older?"

  He chuckled. "This is an Arcane institution and quite unlike the nom educational equivalent. We admit students as early as age ten, depending on their potential. There are many basic skills students must learn before ever attempting magic, and, in most cases, young Arcanes don't even exhibit talent until age eleven or twelve."

  "They couldn't find him a dorm room, Professor," Shelton said, his tone unusually respectful toward the man. "You wouldn't happen to know of any openings, would you?"

  Miles frowned thoughtfully and pulled a large book from a shelf behind his desk. He set it on the table and looked at it for a moment before shaking his head. "This book is linked to the primary dorm roster, and I'm afraid it's showing everything is quite full." He sighed. "I would offer Justin lodging at my house, but the administration frowns on such things unless it's for family members." Another sigh. "A shame really. They assigned me such a roomy house, one which my family hardly fills."

  "You could adopt me," I said with a hopeful grin.

  He laughed. "Yes, well, as your advisor, I will keep a keen eye on the roster and let you know of any openings in housing. I will also have your schedule ready on the morn." He held out his hand.

  I gripped it and received a firm shake.

  "Congratulations, Justin. You're officially a student at Arcane University."

  After leaving Miles, Shelton and I headed toward the sky car.

  "So, I actually did okay?" I asked him. "I thought I sucked."

  He chuckled. "I'm proud of you. It was a little hairy there, but you did more than most beginners." He kicked a loose stone with his boot. "I think going through remedial classes is just what you need. Maybe by reviewing them in a formal setting, you'll pick up on something Bella and I overlooked."

&
nbsp; I thought back to high school and how well I'd done in my classes. Maybe there was something to be said about being squeezed through the same educational process as everyone else that would put my brain back on track. On the other hand, ice throbbed through the veins in my leg, and it was all I could do not to limp. I chalked up the pain to being so tired, but a stab of fear took me in the chest as I wondered if the vampling curse was fighting the potion.

  We reached the sky car shuttle back to the valley and jumped in just as the doors slid shut behind us. Two men in black Arcane robes stood to our right, scrutinizing us as we took seats on the opposite end. As the vehicle shifted into motion, the motion caused the men to sway to the sides, briefly revealing a man in clothing that looked like a cross between a business suit and a robe.

  I felt Shelton stiffen next to me the same moment I saw the other man's eyes widen.

  "Oh, crap," Shelton said, his knuckles turning white from the grip he had on the armrest.

  The other man stood, walked between his bodyguards. "Harry?"

  Shelton took a deep breath. Sighed. Looked up at the other man and snarled, "Hey, Dad."

  Chapter 9

  I felt my mouth hang open as those words hit my ears. The two men looked almost nothing alike. "You have a dad?" I said, the words tumbling from my lips.

  Shelton gave me a look. "What kind of dumbass question is that? Everyone has a dad." He stood and gave the other man a stony look. "What brings you to the university?"

  The other man looked at Shelton, as if trying to divine what emotions lay behind his son's rigid exterior. "Work. I'm making a tour of the schools, to assure everyone the council is doing everything in its power to keep kids safe, especially with the Grand Melee coming. The vampires have left us no choice but to prepare for any eventuality." He looked at me and held out a hand. "I'm Jarrod Sager."

  I stood, feeling even more confusion frazzle my brain. "The Arcanus Primus?"

  "Yeah, he's a big shot," Shelton said with a shrug.

  I shook the man's hand. "But your last names are different."