“But why didn’t you come earlier, when the rest of the parents came?”
Tommy’s father answered. “Micah told us that men from the government were still watching us. We had to go about a normal day, and then sneak off together after bedtime. By the time we were able to meet Micah, it was the wee hours of the morning.”
Tommy was confused at that. “It’s not even bedtime yet. Have you been here all day?”
“No, just a couple hours, waiting for you. Micah told us that you’d come here after dinner, and he seemed perplexed when you didn’t show. He even sent some people to look for you. As for the time… I think this place is somewhere in the East. Maybe even in Asia. Micah told us we were better off not knowing.”
Tommy nodded thoughtfully. It hadn’t even occurred to him that the school might not be in the United States. Since his foray outside, he’d imagined that the school was in the mountains somewhere, possibly the Rockies. He wondered briefly if there was a way to figure out where they were before he decided that his father was right; they were all better off not knowing.
His father grinned at him. “So, my little magician! Aren’t you going to show us around? All we’ve really seen is this little bedroom. Which I see you’ve kept cleaner than your bedroom at home!”
Tommy rolled his eyes before bounded to his feet and grabbed their hands. “We’re called mages, Dad. Not magicians.” Tommy pulled his parents toward the door. He had a lot of things to show them, and time was short.
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning, Tommy felt like he was floating. He was tired, sure. He’d stayed up extra late to spend time with his parents, and he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. Even when Micah came and told his parents that it was time to leave and Tommy finally found his way back to his bed, he still found that he couldn’t sleep. He was so ebullient at getting to see his parents that he thought he would bounce straight out off of his bunk. It had been the very wee hours of the morning before he finally found rest, and with his early classes the next day, the lack of sleep was starting to wear on him. Still, he reflected, it was worth every minute of being tired.
The previous night, he’d shown his parents all around the school. They seemed mystified at some of the things Tommy was learning – his dad still couldn’t grasp why he’d ever need to learn how to use a sword, and his mom couldn’t understand how Tommy would be able to channel magic but not do anything with it, yet; both his parents had eventually asked him for a demonstration. They were suitably impressed by Tommy’s progress in Math, however. Tommy’s dad had gone to college to be an electrical engineer but had never finished, and he’d always hoped that his son would someday fulfill his dream; Tommy’s lack of interest and poor aptitude in the subject had always been a sore spot for his father. They were also very interested to meet Tommy’s new friends, so he had introduced them to Ryan, James, Mary, and most of his other classmates. Stephen they had both recognized and remembered as being one of Tommy’s friends from school. The one regret Tommy had had was that he couldn’t introduce them to Mae. He hadn’t been able to find her all evening, even though he and his parents made several laps of the novice area of the school looking for her. He hadn’t told his parents that he had a bit of a crush on Mae – he didn’t want them to jump to conclusions, tease him about it, or, even worse, give him a parent’s lecture on dating, but he knew that his parents kind of suspected by the amount of time that he had spent looking for her.
So, Tommy had yawned his way through math that morning. The class had actually been fairly easy, and Tommy suspected that his teacher saw that he was not the only member of the class with bags under his eyes. Everyone knew about visiting day the previous day, of course – most students had spent a lot of time cleaning and decorating for the arrival of family members, an activity that Tommy had eschewed because he thought he would be doing no visiting. He wished he’d pitched in more, but there was always next time.
Now he was in physical fitness again. He was sparring with a sword with James, who also looked somewhat worse for the wear. Tommy had begun to enjoy the class now that he was matched with someone of equal ability. Although James was larger and stronger than Tommy, he wasn’t nearly as quick, and the two boys gave each other as good as they got. He still remembered the drubbing he had taken at Ryan’s hands, and was glad the boy had moved to a higher skilled class.
Today, though, neither boy was feeling particularly strong or fast, and Tommy grumbled a curse under his breath as he dropped his sword for the third time that day. James gave him a sheepish grin as he bent quickly to pick it up; Lord Kalish was particularly vocal about the evils of dropping a weapon in combat, and if the fallen weapon was noticed it was sure to bring a lengthy lecture on the topic. James had dropped his own weapon a few times, as well, and once gotten a lecture out of it, so it was plain that he sympathized with Tommy.
Suddenly, Lord Kalish loudly clapped his hands twice, the way he always did when he wanted the class’s attention. Tommy groaned inwardly as he lowered his padded sword and stepped back from James, sure that he was about to get a lecture for the fallen weapon in front of the entire class. When he looked, however, Lord Kalish was facing away from him, and instead was giving his odd bow – bent at the waist, hands on his knees – to Micah, who was standing nonchalantly on one side of the room.
“My Lord, to what do we owe the honor of your visit?” Lord Kalish asked Micah.
“I came to check on the progress of our students, of course.” Micah smiled and made a small gesture with his hand. Tommy didn’t understand it, but Lord Kalish rose from his bow at the gesture.
“Ah, yes, of course. I believe that you will find them progressing satisfactorily, my Lord.” Lord Kalish clapped his hands twice and shouted, “Resume.”
All the students, Tommy and James included, raised their weapons in a salute to one another and then set to trying to brain each other with fervor. It was one thing to be sparring in class, it was quite another to be doing it in front of an audience. Tommy watched out of the corner of his eye as Micah walked briefly around the room, nodding at what he saw. He was actually watching Micah too closely – he brought his padded weapon up just in time to block a thrust from James that would have bashed him in the face. When he looked up again, Micah had turned and was leaving the gymnasium.
“My Lord,” Lord Kalish called out hesitantly to Micah, who paused and half turned. “Perhaps you would care to give the class a demonstration? Show the young students what they should strive to reach?”
The entire class paused mid-sparring match as Micah cocked an eyebrow and walked back into the room. “It would hardly be a fair match, Lord Kalish. You practice every single day.”
Lord Kalish bowed in acknowledgement and retorted, “As do you, of course, my lord.”
Micah smiled and drew a sword from the belt at his waist. It was long and thin, with an ornate hilt and a keen edge on one side that curved inward at the end of the blade to form a fine point. The whole thing sparkled in the light, like it had been gilded its entire length in gold. “I assume you still use that giant club of a weapon?” he asked.
Lord Kalish bowed his head in a nod. “Naturally, as you well know, my lord.” With that, Lord Kalish drew his own weapon. It was shorter than Micah’s sword, but still larger than the sparring weapons that the students had been training with. The length was where any similarity between the weapons ended, however. Where Micah’s sword was thin, Kalish’s weapon had an extremely thick, double-sided blade with a wide crossbar of a hilt. The whole of it was a deep grey in color, the metal almost refusing to shine despite the obvious polish on the blade. Fine silver inlay made a pattern up and down the length of the weapon, and as Lord Kalish moved the weapon, Tommy thought he could almost make out letters and words worked into the pattern.
Tommy thought that the whole thing was rather odd. He’d never seen either Micah or Lord Kalish wear any kind of weapon. Lord Kalish might be able to hide a weapon in his voluminous robes, but
there was no way Micah could have hidden one in his blue jeans and shirt. Tommy made a note to ask about it later, in magic class, when Lord Kalish barked an order. “Attend, class! But stand back and give the Lord archmage and I some room.”
The two men walked to the center of the room and faced each other in two different fighting stances. Micah stood holding his sword in one hand, facing Lord Kalish sideways, with only the narrow part of his body exposed to the other man and his feet close together. Lord Kalish, on the other hand, faced his opponent directly, with his legs spread widely and his sword in front of him in both hands. Both men paused for a moment like that and closed their eyes. Tommy could feel something in the air, a tingling, rushing sort of feeling, and he realized that both men were channeling magic. They opened their eyes at the same time, and each man raised the hilt of his sword in front of his eyes in a salute to the other.
Tommy thought he had been making progress learning to fight with the sword. He thought that Ryan had been very skilled. But what he saw before him made Ryan look like a clumsy oaf swinging a wood axe.
The two men danced with their weapons. They moved smoothly, almost elegantly, in a series of cuts, strokes, and thrusts, each attack smoothly dodged or blocked by the other’s blade. They moved like the weapons were light in their hands, like each sword was made of cardboard instead of solid metal.
At first, Tommy was barely able to following the cut-and-counter cut that took place, but after a few minutes he watched enough to pick up how each man had built on the basic techniques that they’d learned. Micah’s attacks were quick, precise, and careful, while Lord Kalish favored broad, strong strokes with his larger blade. Micah lunged at Lord Kalish’s shoulder, attempting to strike with the point of his blade. Lord Kalish swept Micah’s smaller weapons aside, and followed through with a strong sweep at Micah’s knees. Micah turned the blade aside with the back of his sword, stepped to the side, and cut at Lord Kalish’s arm. Lord Kalish responded by spinning away and used the momentum of his spin to bring his sword around in a wide arc that was aimed at Micah’s head, and which the man simply ducked under.
Back and forth across the gymnasium they fought. Some of the students had begun to cheer, but Tommy barely heard them. He was enraptured by the spectacle before him, and he kept having to force himself to remember to breath. Ten minutes went by, and still the two men fought, neither one showing the slightest sign of slowing or tiring, and as Tommy continued to watch, he noticed something else: Micah’s movements were just a little TOO quick. Micah would begin moving his weapon to block a blow before Lord Kalish even began to swing. Evidently Lord Kalish noticed it, too, because a deep frown had replaced the look of intense concentration on his face.
Finally, Lord Kalish broke the rhythm of the dance with a fast series of wild attacks that ended with his blade smacking into Micah’s hip at the exact same moment that the point of Micah’s blade landed against his throat.
Both men froze for a moment in that position, as several students gasped in horror. Tommy found himself on his feet, ready to run to help Micah, but the two men stepped smoothly apart and bowed to one another. Tommy realized with a sigh of relief that both of his teachers were unhurt, and must have used magic to protect themselves. Tommy wished he could learn how to do that; it would be most useful if he ever had to spar with Ryan again.
“You have… improved… since our last match. If I may say so, my Lord” Lord Kalish intoned formally once the two men had lowered their weapons.
Micah nodded to acknowledge the compliment, and sheathed his sword at his side. Amazingly, once he let go of the sword, it vanished entirely. “You should spend some time at the fronts, Lord Kalish. No amount of practice can substitute for real world experience.”
Lord Kalish bowed to Micah again. “Ah, well. I do not share your predilection there, my lord, as you know very well. Besides, Lord Kalish is not as young as he used to be, is it not so? Fighting is for the young. I am content to teach the young ones, that they might go where I can not.”
Micah nodded as if he’d heard the speech before, bowed slightly to Lord Kalish, and turned to go. Tommy noticed that he had still not even broken a sweat. The entire exchanged seemed odd to Tommy. The men treated each other with respect, but it was a cool kind of respect, without friendship and full of formality. It occurred to Tommy to wonder what kind of history lay between the two men.
He didn’t have much time to ponder, however, because Lord Kalish clapped his hands together twice and called, “Now you see! You have very far to go, yes? There is no learning in standing and staring! We have fifteen minutes left in class, begin again!”
Chapter Fifteen
Tommy lay on his back on his bed, staring nervously up at the ceiling. He was far too worked up to rest, even if it wasn’t the middle of the day, but he was also too anxious to read or do anything else, really. Nearby, Ryan lay on his bed making a vain attempt to study his history textbook. Tommy noticed that Ryan had a distant, unfocused look in his eyes, and that he’d been “reading” the same page for over an hour, now.
“Hey, do you think we have to wait for James to get back,” Tommy finally asked, breaking Ryan out of his reverie. “Maybe we can only go one at a time.”
Ryan shook his head. “I don’t know, man. You aren’t supposed to tell anything about the tests, but think about how many kids there are in our class. James has been gone for hours. If they tested us one at a time, it would take days to get through us all, and they can’t mean to keep us cooped up in here for days.” Tommy couldn’t argue with the logic.
They’d been woken very early in the morning by Chancellor Duvey. He had come in the room trailed by several other students that Tommy had not recognized; they must have been from a more advanced class. Each of the students carried a tray covered by a warm cloth. Underneath the cloth was a sumptuous breakfast; bacon and sausage; scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese mixed in; two fresh, soft biscuits with a side of peppery sausage cream gravy; a bowl of mixed fruit; and milk, tea, and a small cup of coffee to drink. Each tray was set on elevated legs, so it could easily rest on the bed over the boys’ laps. Tommy had never been served breakfast in bed before, and as he set to eating, he started to realized why his mother had always gone on about it. It felt… opulent.
Chancellor Duvey had explained succinctly that today was a testing day, and that several students had been chosen to test for advancement into the next class. He told them they were not permitted to leave their rooms except to use the restroom facilities, and that even there they would be escorted by one of the more advanced students, who would be standing guard outside their doors. The chancellor also explained that it was forbidden to discuss, ask, or answer questions about the testing, and that doing so would be regarded as cheating and could result in expulsion from the school. He then swept out of the room with the other students in tow without another word, and closed the door behind him, leaving the boys to their food.
They had talked among themselves while they ate, wondering which of them would be called to test (because surely they wouldn’t have been restricted to their room if NONE of them were going to test), what the test would be like, and how hard or easy it might be. Tommy surprised himself by cleaning his plate. He even drank a little bit of the coffee; Ryan and James drank it all the time, but he’d never really acquired a taste for it. He found, though, that when he sloshed a good portion of his milk into the cup that it was palatable, if not particularly great tasting.
No sooner had they finished eating than one of the older students had stuck his head in the room and called, “James Thorton!” James almost spilled the tea that he was sipping, he was so startled, but he stood and walked over to the door, giving the other two boys a sheepish grin. The older student beckoned for James to follow, and the two of them left, closing the door behind them. Tommy had shared a long look with Ryan before he gave a nervous laugh. “Well, at least we know we’ll probably get called, right?” During their discussions, James had been
worried that he might not be called to test; He had made decent progress in the last couple of weeks, but he was still struggling to keep up with the rest of the class. Ryan had only nodded absently, however, and had sat staring at the closed door. Tommy suspected that he was bitter over James being picked to go first. Ryan had never liked not being the first at anything.
After awhile, Tommy had gotten antsy, and had gone and knocked on the door. A different older student opened it, and Tommy explained that he had to go to the restroom. The boy nodded and gestured for Tommy to follow without a word. Tommy tried to start a conversation, had even jokingly asked, “How did you get picked for this wonderful job?”, but the older boy had firmly rebuffed his attempts, and had adamantly refused to speak even a single word the entire time Tommy used the facilities, washed up, and returned to him room.
When he got back, Ryan was gone, and Tommy felt a momentary stab of panic. Had he missed his own call to test? Had he been passed over for testing completely? He didn’t want to get left behind his friends, like Mary had. He thought he would die of embarrassment if that happened. He had worked himself up into a pretty good panic when the door opened and Ryan stepped back in, fuming.
“They wouldn’t talk to me. Not even a single word!” Ryan grumbled at the closed door.
Tommy nodded. “Me too. Maybe it’s part of the rules, or something.”
That seemed to calm Ryan down a little, and he quipped with a grin “I almost kicked him in the shin, just to see if I could get him to make a noise.”
The Channeler Page 9
