by David Meyer
Norch chirped her words as she spoke. Because of this, kids called her Bird Woman behind her back. But they didn’t dare question her abilities. She was, after all, one of Madkey’s most renowned witches.
“Sure,” I mumbled. “No problem.”
The door banged shut behind me. Glancing back, I saw Professor George Galison. He served as chair of the Conveyance Department and also held the position of Staff Advisor. In other words, he was my boss.
Galison was a tall, stocky man with pale cheeks. He’d stuffed himself into a too-tight dress shirt and a pair of too-skinny trousers. Suspenders, which were completely unnecessary, hung loosely from his thick shoulders.
“Tell us everything.” His baritone voice reverberated with intense anger. “And I do mean everything.”
I was still new to the staffer role. But I knew it paid to stay on his good side. And so, I proceeded to lay it all out. I told them about my broken wand and my trip to the supply room. I told them about the snores and how I’d found MacPherson fast asleep.
“Did you see anyone?” Norch asked when I was finished. “Anyone at all?”
I shook my head.
“Well, then did you notice anything out of the ordinary?”
I’d seen plenty of things, come to think of it. His empty wand holster, still attached to his belt. The red smudges on his clothing. Oh, and I couldn’t forget that puddle of water under his boots.
“His wand’s missing,” I said. “And—”
“Did you see anything unusual?” Galison growled, interrupting me. “A flash of light? Perhaps a loose critter?”
I shook my head. “Nothing like that.”
They asked a few more questions, but it was apparent I wasn’t much help. Finally, the bell rang, indicating it was 11:25 a.m. and thus, the end of Fifth Period.
“That’s all for now.” Galison stared hard at me. “Does anybody else know about this?”
I shook my head.
“Keep it that way.”
“If anybody asks why you missed work, tell them …” Norch scanned the room. Her gaze fell on a familiar chest of drawers. “Tell them the poster boards got loose and spotted a pair of scissors. That should keep people from asking too many questions.”
“I will,” I lied. Turning on my heels, I hiked to the door. I took my time about it, hoping to eavesdrop a bit.
“I don’t get it.” Wadflow shivered quietly. “What was Deej doing here?”
“I don’t know,” Norch replied. “He didn’t say anything to me.”
Crossing the room, I took hold of the knob. Gently, I cracked the door open.
“You’re pretty quiet, George.” Wadflow cleared her throat. “What do you make of this?”
“I don’t know how he ended up here,” Galison replied. “And frankly, I don’t care. All I care about is this curse. It shouldn’t exist.”
“Who could’ve cast it?” Wadflow wondered. “I can’t imagine—”
“Do you need something, Mr. Wolf?” Galison’s tone was sharp and stern.
My cheeks flushed. “No, Sir. I was just leaving.”
“See that you do.”
And with that, I stepped into the hallway. Hands shaking, I closed the door behind me.
There was much left unsaid. But it seemed clear that the trio of professors knew what had happened to MacPherson. They’d called it a sleeping curse, which confused the heck out of me. Sleeping curses weren’t real.
Right?
Chapter 4
My stomach churned uneasily as I stopped in front of the double doors. Faculty and Students Are Your Priority, the familiar sign read. Serve Them Always and Without Question.
With a deep breath, I pushed the doors open and strode out onto a wide bridge spanning the length of Lower-Torso. Lower-Torso, of course, was the lowest part of Torso, the tri-level, open-air structure that served as Madkey’s beating heart.
The chest side of Torso consisted of thick glass plates, separated by iron bars. Rays of sunshine poured through the glass, filling the space with natural light. One could see for miles up here, making it a favorite of artist-types.
The side I stood on, the back side of Torso, held three levels of bridges. Lower-Torso bridge was the widest, jutting out well into the open-air section. Mid-Torso’s bridge was the next widest while Upper Torso’s bridge was the skinniest. Various doors led off of each bridge to places like Madkey Arena, Madkey Art Gallery, the Enchanted Game Lounge, and the Handy Candy Sweets Shoppe.
An open-air space rested between the bridges and the glass windows. It served as home to the famed Madkey Station Grille. Hundreds of enchanted tables floated within the Grille, along with nearly one thousand chairs. On any given day, students, faculty, and staffers sat on those chairs, oblivious to the heights at which they sat. Amazingly, nobody ever fell. Oh, people tried to fall, especially new freshmen. It was practically a rite of passage at Madkey. But the chairs were enchanted so as to keep everyone afloat at all times.
Now, that’s not to say other things didn’t fall from time to time. And that’s when things got a little dicey. You see, the Grille was built upon the remnants of an ancient conveyance station. Once upon a time, that station provided access to the Floating Abyss, a sort of mystical ocean that connected Madkey to enchanted lands all across Earth. While no longer in service, its conveyance energy remained. So, anything that fell through one end of the old station had to come out the other end. Who could ever forget the time Calvin Hayes accidentally dropped his knife? It slipped through the thick black mist at the bottom of the Grille. One second later, it came screaming out of the mist at the top end, almost bludgeoning poor Dylan Kosward in the process.
The double doors closed over, separating me from Shadow Madkey. Massive statues, broken at the neck, stood on either side of me. They depicted Chaotic magicians, ones who’d fought the Structuralists on Victory Day. Sculpted from granite, they’d proven far too heavy to move in the aftermath. So, they’d been beheaded instead.
I paused for a moment, my gaze searching the Grille as well as the three bridges. Torso acted as Madkey’s student commons and thus, was usually crowded. Today was no different. Throngs of students, their faces flushed with excitement, packed the bridges. More students were out in the Grille, chowing down on food and talking in loud tones.
A bunch of juniors bumped into me. Next thing I knew I was sucked into the frenzied crowd. At first, I tried to push back. But it was hopeless and I soon found myself propelled into a gold-plated, open-ended box. Known as a hoist, it worked a little like a humdrum elevator, only with magical propulsion. This particular one allowed people to travel between Torso’s three bridges at breakneck speed.
Other people crowded into the hoist until we were packed in so tight I could barely breathe. A beep sounded and a gate slid upward, blocking would-be riders. Some people managed to hop over it in the nick of time. Others weren’t so lucky and got knocked backward into the churning crowd.
The hoist shot upward like a rocket and my stomach surged into my throat. I didn’t scream. Nobody ever screamed on a hoist. There simply wasn’t enough time to do so.
The hoist slammed to a halt. The gate slid open. A harsh voice screeched, “Mid-Torso. Get lost and be quick about it.”
Students and faculty filed off and others filed on. Seeing the sheer volume of people waiting for a ride, I chose to stay aboard. Again, the hoist flew upward and again, my stomach leapt to my throat.
The hoist came to another jarring stop. As the gate slid open, the same harsh voice screeched, “Upper-Torso. Get out already!”
Everybody left the hoist. I pushed my way through a thick horde of waiting students and looked around.
“Well, well, well …” The unwelcome voice, soft and biting, caught me off-guard. “If it isn’t everybody’s favorite dropout.”
Don’t let him bait you, Randy, I thought, my fingers curling into fists. He’s not worth it.
My gaze shifted to Porter Garrington. He was tall and spo
rted a head full of curly, dark locks. A white dress shirt and power tie adorned his lanky, toned frame. His pin-striped slacks were neatly-pressed. A suit coat, also pin-striped, dangled from his fingertips.
Porter was handsome, popular, fabulously wealthy, and the leading candidate for class valedictorian. In short, he had pretty much everything a guy could want out of life. For some reason, he’d taken a dim view of my existence all the way back at the Madkey Convocation. That view had only gotten worse after I’d dropped out of school.
“Whatcha doing here, Wolf? Shouldn’t you be slumming in Shadow Madkey with the rest of the help?”
“I’m on break,” I replied through gritted teeth. I felt small in front of him, not least because of my attire. In line with Victory Day tradition, students were dressed in their finest clothing. Boys wore jackets and ties. Girls tended toward dresses, although some had gone with tasteful pantsuits or blouse and skirt combinations. Meanwhile, I wore the required staff uniform. Namely, a crimson collared shirt, black pants, and black shoes, all of which were well-smudged with grime and bits of dough.
“Madkey’s paying you to stand here and look stupid?” He snorted through his nostrils. “What a racket.”
I felt sorry for his future employees. The Garrington family owned and operated Garrington Magic Company. Garrington Magic, along with Alanskew and Casafortro, comprised the so-called Big Three of the magic world. Together, they held a vice grip on the enchanted product marketplace.
Before I could muster up a reply, Gordon Tancort sauntered across the bridge. Gordon was athletic and wiry, with bronze-tanned skin and a mouth that wouldn’t quit. Sya Moren and Felicia Masters flanked him on either side. Sya was medium-height with long, blonde hair and a permanent sneer upon her lips. Felicia, meanwhile, had curly brown hair and a cherubic face. She was widely regarded as the prettiest girl in the ninth grade. But really, they were all good looking. That was the worst thing about Porter and his friends. They might’ve been miserable people. But they still had it all.
Dismissing me with a withering look, Gordon clapped his friend on the back. “Hey, man,” he exclaimed. “You hungry?”
“Sure am,” Porter replied.
With a smirk in my direction, Porter led the others to the nearest loading platform. Picking out chairs, they sat down. Immediately, the chairs zoomed off, taking them to the Mid-Torso section of Madkey Station Grille.
Slowly, I unclenched my fists. Walking to the loading platform, I scanned the Grille. Halfway between Mid- and Upper-Torso, I spotted Piper sitting alone at an isolated table.
I picked out a chair and sat down. With a rush of air, it lifted off the platform. Kicking my legs like I was swimming, I propelled it upward. Then I angled my body toward the Grille. Still kicking, I directed myself through the frenzied maze of students.
“Hey, Randy,” Piper said as I pulled up to her table. “How are you feeling?”
Piper Shaw was short, a shrimp compared to other kids our age. Her dirty blonde hair was frizzy and hung down to her shoulders. Her mouth, while tiny, was capable of great volume. And yet, she had a quiet, bookish way about her. She was exceedingly smart and should’ve done just fine at Madkey. Unfortunately, she possessed an irredeemable flaw.
She was a poor test-taker.
Oh, she’d studied like crazy. She’d known the material of every class inside and out. But when it came time to be tested, she’d freeze up. Sometimes, she’d get hung up on the wording of questions. Other times, she’d check her work so much that she’d run out of time. Still other times, she just sat there, overwhelmed by it all. The faculty was sympathetic and had extended her multiple chances. But things didn’t get better and she’d dropped out at the same time as me.
“I’m feeling fine.” I directed my chair to the opposite side of the circular table. “Why?”
“Jax came by a few minutes ago, angry as a horned serpent. He said Galison pulled you from your shift even though you still had tons of dough to knead. Apparently, he and the others had to work overtime to get through it all.”
“That’s true. But—”
“Hey, guys.” With quick, jerky movements, Leandra steered her chair to the table. “Say, what’s this I hear about you skipping work, Randy?”
Leandra Chen was short and petite but carried herself as if she towered over everyone else. Her face was diamond-shaped with high cheekbones and a wide mouth. Her appearance was rather solemn, which stood in stark contrast to her jokester personality.
Like all of us staffers, she was a dropout. But it wasn’t due to poor grades. In fact, she’d been a fairly solid student. Not the top of our class, but certainly not the bottom either. No, her problem was financial.
Tuition, room, and board at Madkey ran a steep 267,324 quadrods per year. To put that in perspective, the average annual wage in the magic community was less than 50,000 quadrods. So, when her folks ran into a bit of bad luck, unpaid bills began to stack up. Halfway through the second quarter, she was forced to drop out. She’d decided to stay on as a staffer, reasoning the room, board, and stipend would keep her from being a burden on her folks.
“I’m not sick and I didn’t skip work.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “I stumbled on something. Something big.”
“What?” Piper practically shouted.
A table full of sophomores looked at us with upturned eyebrows. I gave them an awkward smile. “We’re, uh, just talking about proper assembly-line procedures. You know, ways to keep production really humming.”
Rolling their eyes in unison, they turned away.
My gaze shifted to Piper. “Keep it down, will you?”
She blushed. “Sorry.”
Leandra gave me a keen look. “What’s this all about, Randy?”
I didn’t feel like telling the story twice, so I looked around for the missing member of our foursome. “Where’s Tad?” I asked. “He’ll want to hear this, too.”
“He’s showing that new kid around,” Leandra said. “Her name’s Hannah, I think.”
Most students matriculated at the beginning of the school year. But when someone dropped out, that opened up a new slot, which Madkey was always quick to fill. A staffer was then assigned to show the newcomer around school. Think about that for a moment. A dropout was assigned to help the very student who’d taken his or her place. Believe me, it’s as humiliating as it sounds.
I scanned Torso one last time, then turned back to the table. “It all started when my wand broke mid-shift.”
Leandra made a face. “I hate that.”
“I ran to the supply room to get a new one. And that’s when I heard the snores.”
Piper frowned. “Snores?”
I nodded. “Someone was fast asleep in the corner. You’ll never guess who it was.”
Leandra arched an eyebrow. “This had better be good.”
I paused for effect. “Professor MacPherson.”
Her jaw dropped. “No way.”
“Oh, it was him alright.”
“What was he even doing there?” Piper wondered.
“I don’t know. Nobody knows.” I took a deep breath. “Because he won’t wake up.”
Piper’s jaw dropped this time. Before she could say anything, the ghostly head of a man materialized before us. A straw hat partially covered his bald spot. His eyes were dark and swirling. His bulbous nose was bright red.
“Ahoy, mateys,” he called out in a slurred, tired tone. “And welcome to—”
“Stuff it, Yordlo,” Leandra said. “We don’t need your fake pirate talk.”
The head belonged to Yordlo Jellman, pirate and former captain of the infamous Warfire. Many years ago, far too many to count, Yordlo and his crew had preyed upon innocent airships as they sailed through the Floating Abyss.
“That’s fine by me.” He exhaled a long, slow breath. “You know, if I have to say that stupid line one more time, I swear I’ll make one of you little urchins walk the plank.”
“You talk pretty tough for a g
uy who can’t leave his ship,” Leandra retorted with a smirk.
Yordlo’s reign of terror ended when he made the mistake of trying to pillage a small vessel on its way to New Orleans. One of the passengers happened to be an exceptional witch and she used her formidable skills to trap him and his crew into the planks of the Warfire. Sometime later, the ship was dismantled and Madkey purchased the hulk. Someone had the bright idea of turning the wood into finely-crafted tables and chairs.
Now, the crew’s souls were trapped within the chairs. Yordlo, meanwhile, was trapped within the tables. With nothing else to do, he became a ghostly waiter. He could pop in and out of any table at a moment’s notice, taking orders and checking in on customers. I’m sure he found it humiliating but hey, it was better than being firewood.
“I might be stuck here, lass,” Yordlo seethed. “But I highly recommend you don’t underestimate me.”
“I highly recommend you take our order and be quick about it.”
If looks could kill, she would’ve died right there on the spot. But since they can’t, nothing happened. Well, nothing except that his face turned a fine tomato red.
A couple of juniors began banging silverware on their table. “Hustle up, Yordlo,” Kell Masters, Felicia’s older brother and Madkey’s most promising ramball prospect, called out. “We don’t have all day.”
A scowl crossed the pirate’s lips. “Duty calls, ye mateys,” he said to us. “Now, what’ll it be?”
I glanced down. The table glowed in front of me, listing a short menu of food and drink options.
“The Abyss Burger,” I decided. “Medium-well. And I’ll take a Sunrise Canfee, too.”
Canfee was kind of this super-charged coffee that came in all sorts of flavors. I’m not talking licorice or donuts, either. No, canfee was charmed to taste like an experience. There was Beach Party, End of Exams, Stormy Seas, and that was just the beginning. My favorite was Magical Bliss. It had this warm, comforting taste that stretched through your body, exactly the way one felt while doing a spell.
Yordlo took Piper’s order, then shot Leandra a look. “And what about ye, lass? Some boiled turnips, perhaps?”
