Tommy was disappointed, but he did understand. He’d heard the news stories about the strife in Africa, and he remembered being grateful that there was a wide ocean between him and the troubles. It was a letdown, but Tommy had some other ideas, too. “Could we go see Stonehenge, then? Or the Grand Canyon? Or maybe even Disneyland?”
Micah grinned broadly. “That’s a tall order right there. You’d better finish your fries quickly. It sounds like we’ve got a couple of full days ahead of us.”
Chapter Five
Micah had refused to take Tommy to Egypt, saying it was a desolate and embattled place, but as Tommy dreamed, he saw it as it was before – old, ancient, and although somewhat battered by the years, still strong and majestic. To Tommy’s dream-self, the area practically thrummed with power and mystery, and he walked around the pyramids and marveled at their beauty.
In his dream, Tommy saw the past unfold exactly like the stories Micah had told to him. He saw the emergence of the anti-mage organizations in other countries, and how mages because hunted and persecuted for the misdeeds of others. He saw the good mages who stood up for what was right and fought with the government against their brethren, helping them hunt down and drive out or destroy the dark mages who used their powers to steal, kill, and dominate. In Tommy’s dreams, these dark mages were all wicked, cruel, and looked surprisingly like the greasy man who had tried to hurt him. Tommy saw the dark mages flee to Africa. He watched as the continent, which, to his young mind, had always been a wild, dangerous, and uncivilized place become increasingly unsettled.
Then, Tommy saw the governments of the world turn on the good mages who had helped them. Now that the dark mages had been mostly brought to heel in most of the civilized world, governments no longer had need of the mages who had helped them. The very same people who had been crucial to the survival of order suddenly became the biggest threat, and the fear and suspicion which clouded any who dared to use magic turned on to those brave men and women. Tommy saw the mages and their families get hunted down and killed or imprisoned for no other reason than who they were and what they could do.
Just like Micah had said, Tommy watched as these “good” mages packed up their families and fled to Africa, as well. Only, when they got there, their dark brethren remembered them. The dark mages remembered who had helped the governments hunt them down. They remembered being driven out, fleeing for their lives, and it caused them to hate. A great war ensued between the dark mages and the new arrivals. Titanic battles ripped across the surface of the country, setting whole towns afire and leveling cities. Tommy’s dream-self wept bitter tears as he watched the beautiful pyramids and architecture crumble under the onslaught until only barely-recognizable piles of stones remained.
The battle was brief, however. The dark mages had been on the continent for months, and had had time to establish themselves. They had homes and bases of operations. They had truces and alliances. The newcomers had none of that, and were encumbered by the remains of their families. Some of the good mages surrendered and became slaves to the dark men and women they had once hunted. Others felt the betrayal of their home countries too strongly and joined the dark mages, succumbing to fear and hate and trying to carve out a piece of the ravaged continent for themselves. But the rest of the refugees, the large majority of them, were slaughtered. It made Tommy sad to see the brave men and women die. He felt that they deserved better, that someone should have stood up for them or helped them, somehow.
The dream fell apart suddenly as the sound of a door opening woke Tommy from a sound sleep. He sat upright in his bed and looked around in confusion. The last few days had been a whirlwind of new places and exotic sights, and at first, he couldn’t remember where he was. Then it came to him – he was in his dorm room at Micah’s school. The room was small and rectangular, and was dominated by four beds and four wardrobes, one at the foot of each bed. The room had no other occupants when Tommy had arrived, so he had tried out all the beds and chosen the one that he thought was most comfortable. The walls were cold, smooth stone – all the walls here seemed to be made of stone – and had no windows, so the only light came from the only other furniture in the room, which was two shaded floor lamps in the corners. The setting was wholly austere, and the room as a whole was smaller than Tommy’s room at home.
The thought brought Tommy a twinge of regret, and he thought to himself, “I have to stop thinking like that. This is home now.”
Tommy turned and looked at the door to the room. Another boy his age was struggling with an over-large suitcase, which was stuck in the door. Tommy stood up and moved to help the boy. He pulled on the leading edge of the case, which slid in easily, and the boy came stumbling in after it.
“Uh, thanks.” The boy said, sticking out his hand. “I’m Ryan.”
Tommy shook the boys hand and introduced himself. “I’m Thomas, but everyone calls me Tommy.”
Ryan started to say something, but at that moment was shoved from behind by someone outside the door, and he stumbled and fell against Tommy. Tommy lost his balance, and the two boys sprawled to the ground in a tangle of limbs. The rest of the shover’s body followed his hand through the door, revealing a slightly older boy with a military style duffle bag thrown over his shoulder. Tommy disengaged himself from Ryan and stood up, dusting himself off. He scowled at the newcomer, who had thrown his bag on one of the beds, as Ryan stood and finished dragging his large suitcase to a different bed on the other side of the tiny room.
The shover turned and put his hands on his hips and looked down at the two other boys. “I’m James L. Thorton, the Third,” the older boy said with a haughty tone in his voice. “Of the Long Island Thortons, of course.”
Tommy didn’t know what the Long Island Thortons were, but he took an instant dislike to the larger boy. He wore faded but fashionable blue jeans, and a t-shirt that made Tommy’s throat constrict. It was a black shirt and bore a picture of a pig dressed like a policeman and riding a moose. Tommy knew that it would bear the legend “Canadian Bacon” before he even saw it. He wanted to scream and run, but there was nowhere to go – the big boy was still standing in the doorway – so instead he said, “It’s not nice to push people.”
“Awww, come on,” said James L. Thorton of the Long Island Thortons, gesturing toward Ryan, who was still struggling with his suitcase. “He’s been holding us up since we got on the bus.”
“Bus?” asked Tommy, confused. There hadn’t been any roads leading up to the school, and he hadn’t seen any vehicles of any sort once he got here. In fact, the lack of cars in such a large place was rather notable.
“Yeah,” said James. “You stupid or something? The bus, you know? How we got to the portal?”
Tommy shook his head. “I didn’t ride on any busses. A man named Micah brought me here.” Tommy looked at both of the other boys in confusion. Both of their mouths were agape with astonishment, and they were looking at Tommy with open amazement. “What?” asked Tommy.
Then, James burst out laughing and turned his back on Tommy. “Okay, okay, you got me,” James chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s a good joke, man.”
Tommy was totally confused by that, but even more so by the younger boy’s reaction. “That was a mean joke to play,” Ryan scowled. “You should be ashamed of yourself.” Ryan turned his back on Tommy, too, and resumed trying to lift his suitcase up onto his bed.
“But... but, I... I mean, it wasn’t-“ Tommy stammered, but he was immediately cut off by the door opening again.
A middle-aged man poked his head through the door. He was almost completely bald except for a thin ring of hair that ran from one ear, across the back of his head, and to the other ear. He was very thin, almost to the point of being gaunt, and he reminded Tommy of nothing so much as a hawk. The man peered around the room through thick, horn-framed glasses, his mouth tight with either disapproval or impatience, Tommy couldn’t decide. The man stared at them each intently for several long moments, while the boys a
ll stared back, almost afraid to move. Finally, the man spoke.
“Very well, then. I’m Chancellor Duvey. You boys will come with me so I can show you around the school.”
Tommy started to leave the room, but James hadn’t moved and was in his way, so he stopped.
“What’s a Chancellor do?” asked James, his voice full of belligerence.
The older man’s lips compressed even further, but he spoke without annoyance in his voice, merely adopting an instructional tone of voice. “Chancellor means that I’m in charge of running the school, much like a principal. Did schools have principals where you come from?” The Chancellor hardly waited for the boys to nod. “Yes? Then you’ll understand that I’m a very busy man and you must come along quickly.” With that, he turned and left the room without giving the boys time to answer. James merely shrugged and followed him out. Ryan paused to throw another dirty look Tommy’s way, then he too headed for the door. Tommy sighed and followed the other two boys.
Once the boys were outside in the hallway, the chancellor set off at a brisk pace and began to speak.
“Your schedules will be ready for you when you return to your rooms. Since you boys are close in age, you will likely have similar schedules. However, there will be areas where you differ, of course, both due to your aptitudes and level of education.” Tommy frowned at that. Micah had told him that he would be allowed to progress at his own pace, so he had assumed that there would be some kind of test to determine how far along he was. Tommy had always scored very highly on all the English exams they had taken at school, and had been very proud of his skill level in that area, although his math levels tended to fall behind his classmates and was a source of embarrassment to him. The chancellor had not stopped talking, however. “Breakfast for initiates is served from seven until eight every morning,” he said, pausing briefly to look significantly at the boys. “Then classes begin promptly at eight. Lunch is at noon, dinner is at five, and classes end at eight in the evening.” Tommy’s mouth dropped open, and the other two boys groaned in dismay. Twelve hours of school? Tommy wondered what he’d gotten himself into. The chancellor heard the groan, and stopped to regard the boys, his hands on his hips.
“Yes, it makes for some long days. However, we’ve found it best to keep initiates busy. It keeps you out of trouble. You will have a less rigorous schedule once you graduate and become novices. If you graduate and become novices, that is.” The tone of the chancellor’s voice made it clear that he thought their chances of graduating were slim indeed, but he paused only a moment before continuing. “From eight until ten every night is your personal time. You can use it to study or just relax, although initiates that lay about quickly find themselves falling behind their classmates.”
Tommy raised his hand at that, but the chancellor continued before acknowledging him. “Lights out is enforced at ten every night, and I will not stand for initiates that bring or make their own lights and disturb their roommates. Yes... Mister Nelson, is it?” asked the chancellor, clearly both annoyed by the interruption but pleased at Tommy’s courtesy.
“We can read, right? During personal time, I mean?” Tommy asked.
The chancellor chuckled in reply. “You may read, of course. In fact, I highly encourage it. However, so long as you are an initiate here, you will only have books that are supplied to you by the school. Once you graduate to novices, you can have your own books for information or pleasure, but you’ll be much too busy to read anything extracurricular for a while.” Again, the man’s tone made it obvious that he thought that might be a very long while indeed.
Before he could continue, however, James blurted out “What about weekends?”
The chancellor favored James with a grim smile. “Weekends? We don’t have weekends at the school. Classes for initiates and novices take place seven days a week. And you would do well, mister Thorton, to learn some courtesy from your classmates.”
James scowled at Tommy, as though the rebuke were somehow his fault, but the chancellor had already turned and resumed walking down the hall at his brisk pace. The other two boys paused to glare at Tommy one more time before following, while Tommy trailed behind, biting his lip in consternation. Micah had said nothing about school twelve hours a day, seven days a week. He’d said that Tommy would be very busy when they got to the school, and had told him to enjoy the little vacation they’d taken, but nowhere had he mentioned the inhumane hours they’d be keeping. The amount of school combined with the seeming scorn of his two classmates had Tommy seriously wishing he’d never made the snap decision to come with Micah, and he found himself wondering if they’d allow him to leave if he asked nicely.
Tommy was interrupted out of his thoughts by their arrival in a narrow, elongated room. A series of long tables dominated the room with benches down either side, with a cafeteria-style serving area on the far end of the room. Both the benches and the serving area were completely empty, but there was space for maybe thirty or forty people to sit at the table at once. The chancellor paused briefly to explain that this was where they’d be taking their meals before he whisked them off out another door.
The next hour was filled with a whirlwind of locations. Tommy saw classrooms both large and small. Some of them looked like the classrooms he was accustomed to back in school, complete with desks and a chalkboard, while others were simply small square rooms with mats on the floor. None of the rooms had windows, and however they were furnished, all of them were made of the same smooth, grey stone. Tommy was shown a large gymnasium-type room, and told it would be their physical fitness and martial training room. He groaned again at that – gym was his least favorite class, next to math, although he had to admit that the martial training sounded interesting, and he wondered if they’d be taught karate. He had always wanted to go to karate class when he was younger, but his parents always said they couldn’t afford it, so it was something that he’d never gotten to try. Tommy got thoroughly turned around about halfway through the tour, and he wondered how any of them would find their way through the warren of passages and classrooms. Finally, they came to the most impressive stop on the tour, and as they stepped into the room, Tommy’s jaw dropped in awe.
Chapter Six
The boys had stepped into a massive round chamber, at least a hundred feet across. The large room was dominated by an immense, semi-opaque crystal that seemed to jut out of the floor. Its jagged points almost reached the ceiling forty feet above them, and Tommy got the impression that the room, and maybe even the entire structure of the school, had been built around it. The crystal had a deep bluish tint to it, but it glowed from within with a soft, silvery light, and Tommy could see many smaller lights moving deep within the structure of the thing. A waist-high, wide railing surrounded the thing, and it reminded Tommy of the communions rails he had seen around the altar one time when his grandmother had dragged him to church. Arranged outside the railing was a series of padded floor mats and padded benches that alternated and ran the entire circumference of the room. There were several people either kneeling on the mats or sitting on the benches, all dressed differently but staring intently at the crystal. They didn’t even look up when Tommy and his group entered the room, but continued to stare, and the chancellor turned to speak to them.
“This is the channeling room. It is here that you’ll pay your dues... your ‘tuition’, as it were, for your food and shelter and the training you’ll receive while at this academy. Every single person here spends at least some time every week channeling magical energy into the large crystal you see here. The crystal stores the energy, and then it is used by powerful spells cast by the senior mages to do things like turn the generators that provide electricity, keep our school hidden from outsiders, and the like.” The chancellor had the droning tone of a teacher delivering a lecture, but Tommy didn’t mind. He was enraptured by the whole scene. “Occasionally,” the chancellor continued, “ it will even be used by the senior mages to perform services for outsiders – for a lar
ge fee, of course – so that we can obtain world currencies to purchase the things we cannot produce ourselves. As initiates, you won’t be required to channel much energy, but as your skills grow, so will the requirements. Personally, I also think that channeling is very good practice for students, as well. It will teach you to handle more and more magical energy, and will increase your tolerance for using magic without fatigue. Once you graduate to novices, you will also be able to channel energy to obtain goods and services from the school. If, for example, you wish to purchase books as Mister Nelson had asked.”
The chancellor seemed about to continue with his lecture when James opened his mouth and took a breath, about to speak. After an instant and a caustic glance at Tommy, though, James thought better of it and raised his hand instead. The chancellor paused in what he was about to say and nodded to James.
“I don’t have to do any of this. My father already paid my tuition,” James said to the chancellor.
“Every single-“ the chancellor began, but a familiar voice from behind Tommy cut him off.
“Your father paid your entry into this school, nothing more,” Micah said, stepping into the room behind them. The chancellor quieted immediately, took a step backwards, and bowed at the waist to Micah as he entered.
James apparently couldn’t decide if he should be angry at or awed by Micah. Still, he persisted, and began “But, my father-“ before Micah cut him off again.
“Your father has no influence here, Jimmy. You’d better get used to that right now. The fee he paid to us was to accept you into the school so that you might have the best help and training available.” Micah jabbed a finger at James. “It is for this very reason that I was reluctant to bring you into the school. Students who have a sense of entitlement do very poorly, here, and I have my doubts about you. Your father’s generous donation to our cause has secured you a place in our school, but do not think that it has guaranteed your success. You will attend classes like everyone else, you will earn your way like everyone else, and, if you should choose to break our rules, you will be expelled like anyone else.” Micah stared at James for a long moment. The young man had visibly wilted under the lecture, and he stood with his head down, looking crushed.
The Channeler Page 4
