by Jess Haines
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kimberly tried very hard to concentrate on the illustrations in her textbook, but her heart was pounding so hard she could barely focus. She kept rubbing her sweaty palms against her ill-fitting skinny jeans, but it didn’t help much.
Professor Reed had made some special arrangements for her students to practice practical application of what they had learned in her Other Etiquette: Know Your Others, Know Your Place class thus far. Though she never said anything to that effect, Kimberly suspected by the way the professor’s tone had grown shorter and sharper over the course of the school year that she didn’t think they were making the kind of progress the professor was hoping for. Not that Kimberly thought many—if any—of the magi in this class would deal with any Others outside class aside from ordering a drink from a vampire bartender in the city or maybe taking a cab with a werewolf for a driver. As interesting as some of the inter-Other politicking might have been, she also had her doubts that much of what they were being taught had any practical application outside the classroom. Aside from being shoved in the direction of a dragon, Kimberly herself had never dealt with anything more magically exotic than another mage’s familiar.
For the day’s class, Professor Reed had invited a mage with an earthbound familiar to visit, and she was currently pacing on the stage at the front of the auditorium going over the rules one last time. If one of the students “accidentally” provoked the creature, the mage it was bound to was supposed to keep it in check. As a last resort, in the unlikely event it lashed out, they were to rely heavily on fire-based defensive spells.
Kimberly had figured it would be a cinch to pass the test since it shouldn’t involve casting anything. It was considered inconceivably rude by the bulk of supernatural society to use one’s powers on another Other without invitation, save in times of war. Aside from which, the whole point of the class was to teach the young magi the arts of supernatural diplomacy.
What had her worried were the whispers by some of the students behind her, easier to hear than usual since attendance was sparse after the announcement had been made that there was a sorcerer attending Blackhollow. She wasn’t sure who said it, but someone had said her name and then someone else muttered something about “heating things up,” followed by snickers.
Her inability to grasp elemental magic meant that, when it came down to it, she couldn’t defend herself in the same ways as everyone else in the class. After four years of studies with them, they knew her weaknesses just as well as Professor Reed. Maybe more so now that rumors were circulating about the sorcerer in their midst.
Going to the professor would only delay the inevitable. If the person who whispered her name was who she thought and she went to the professor to ruin their plans, they’d only corner her after school to do something worse. She knew from experience that she had to handle it herself.
Whatever prank they intended to pull, she had to think of something quick, or she might end up badly hurt.
A brisk rapping on the doorframe cut the professor’s safety lecture short. Her severe expression softened with a welcoming smile as she gestured the two men to step inside.
They were both dressed in jeans and button-down shirts, but which was the mage and which the familiar was obvious. The sandy haired mage was grinning and giving the apprentice magi a friendly wave, striding over to the stage at the center of the auditorium-style classroom to join Professor Reed. His surfer’s tan was not as dark as that of his taller, swarthy companion lingering near the door. The other man’s black eyes were wide, scanning the rows of several dozen student magi before him.
“Oh my God,” the familiar said, loud enough to be heard by the whole class. “You breed?”
Titters sounded from all around the classroom. The mage reddened. “Sam, shut up.”
The professor stepped in, her sharp ahem doing an excellent job of silencing the laughter. “Class, this is James Gardner of the Commune of the Everglades, and his familiar, a naga.”
The taller man stared around at all the magi, most of whom were staring back. “So many. I thought you were like natural disasters, not locusts.”
“Sam.”
The naga had spoken like he hadn’t heard a word from his master or the professor, and Kimberly couldn’t help but feel a measure of dismay at the genuine horror in his tone. He obviously didn’t want to be there. The stiff way he shuffled to James’s side spoke volumes for his reluctance to play along.
“All right, everyone,” the professor said, “that’s enough. Aidan, you’re up first. Come down here.”
One of the students near the back got up. Kimberly had recognized his voice in the whispers behind her. Judging by the flat stare he was getting from their teacher, maybe the professor wasn’t entirely oblivious to what had been going on.
He had his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks and a smarmy grin plastered on his face as he slunk down the stairs. His interest in the familiar was palpable, as was that of most of the other students in the room.
A mage always had the option to bind a native supernatural creature instead of summoning an ethereal planar being to be their familiar. The trouble was that most earthbound Others worth the effort of making into familiars were well aware of what it meant to be bound to a mage, so it was rare for one to consent. Due to the inherent difficulty in convincing any intelligent earthbound supernatural like the naga to submit to a bond, they were coveted status symbols.
There was no way for Aidan to take control of the naga, but that wouldn’t stop him from drooling over it like someone else’s brand new Mercedes.
Once Aidan reached the last step, James made an idle “get on with it” gesture at Sam. The naga shot his master an annoyed look before sidling another few steps along the stage to meet Aiden halfway and shifting into his native form.
The students gave a collective gasp as his body darkened and stretched, growing well beyond the natural bounds of any typical shapeshifter. It only took moments for the tall, nondescript man to be replaced by a thirty-foot snake, wide as a tree trunk and with the broad, muscled chest and arms of a man. From his lower jaw to the tip of his tail, his underbelly was covered with wide, yellow-white plates. The rest of him was covered in jewel-toned scales varying in shades from blue to green to a dark bronze. There were wide, burnished copper cuffs on his wrists and a matching collar circled his throat. The blunt snout lifted and lidless, golden eyes scanned the room as his forked tongue flickered out, tasting the air.
Aidan scrambled back, knocking over one of the other students in his haste to get away from the naga. He flushed at the laughter from James, but more so at the sharp reprimand from Professor Reed.
“Aidan. You’ve been incalculably rude to our guest. Apologize at once.”
Aidan’s normally borderline pallid features had taken on a ruddy hue by the time he managed to regain his feet and sketch a formal bow to the naga—from a healthy distance away, of course.
“My apologies, great one,” he said. “I greet you as a representative of Blackhollow Academy and humbly beg… beg… umm…”
“Your blessing,” Professor Reed said, her tone flat.
“Your blessing,” he finished.
The naga cocked his head to one side, then the other.
“What now?” James demanded.
“I see no gifts. Where is my tribute in return for the blessing?”
The voice of the snake was deep, and strangely musical despite the hissing sibilants. Aidan turned a panicked look on his teacher, whose pitiless gaze showed no sympathy.
“Professor, I—”
“Don’t tell me. Tell him,” she said, waving her hand at the giant snake coiled and waiting before him.
Aidan’s color gradually paled. “I… umm. I’m terribly sorry if I may cause offense, but I forgot my homework—your gift—oh, great one.”
The naga bowed his head and voiced a low hiss that sounded very much like a sigh. The snake turned to its master and spread its hands.
James shook his head, and the naga turned its back on Aidan in dismissal. Crestfallen, he turned to Professor Reed, who gestured for him to return to his seat. Trudging back up the stairs, he shot a venomous look at one of the younger magi who dared snigger at him as he passed.
Professor Reed made a note on a clipboard. “Would anyone else like to cop to ‘forgetting’ their homework?” A few tentative hands raised. She made more notes on her clipboard, then scanned the remaining students. “Kimberly. Why don’t you show us what you’ve got?”
Kimberly swallowed hard, then nodded and turned to dig in her backpack for the last remaining rosette from yesterday. She was glad she’d saved it so she wouldn’t flunk this exam. It wasn’t much of a tribute—nothing like the gold and jewels she had read about naga traditionally being showered with in return for a blessing—but hopefully he wouldn’t spurn it outright since she didn’t have any fancy jewelry or money to offer him.
Her shoulders hunched self-consciously at the laughter and whispers that started up as soon as she pulled the bread in its clear plastic bag free of her backpack. Keeping her eyes focused firmly on the ground at her feet, she stalked to the stairwell at the end of the aisle and didn’t stop until she reached the edge of the stage.
When she looked up, golden eyes the size of tennis balls were focused on her. She took a deep breath to steady herself, then went down on one knee and bowed her head as she extended the hunk of bread.
“Forgive my meager offering, wise one. I greet you as a representative of Blackhollow Academy and humbly beg your blessing.”
Kimberly held her breath, silently praying that he wouldn’t spurn her gift. She could still hear the whispered chatter in the background and did her very best to ignore it.
Lame. Cheapskate. Loser. Stupid freeloader.
Dirty sorcerer.
Monster.
“Receive your blessing, representative of Blackhollow Academy.”
Surprised, she looked up, eyes wide. The naga bowed his snake head over the offering as she placed it into his large, scaled hands, though she suspected his gaze was still focused on her.
Just as he reached out to grant his blessing, the rosette in his palm burst into white-hot flames.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The naga’s cobra-like hood flared as he shrieked and flung the burning bread away from himself. The flaming missile hit a girl in the shoulder near the last row at the back of the room and bounced away, disappearing under a desk. As the great snake flailed and howled in pain, Professor Reed shouted instructions, trying to be heard over the overturning desks and the panicked screams of her students.
James stepped in, laying his hands on the whipping tail of the naga—which was far less dangerous than the curved, needle-like fangs as long and thick as his index finger bared at the younger magi.
An arm as thickly muscled as a body-builder’s passed through Kimberly as Sam swung around to face his master. The illusion fragmented and disappeared. Sam’s cries of pain tapered off as James used his grip on the naga to channel magic into him and heal the burn. Sam was panting, his hood flaring in and out, but no longer on the verge of attack.
Despite that he had calmed, many of the students were still screaming and fighting to hide behind one another at the back of the room. They were clustered so tightly together that they were shoving some of the rows of school desks off the edge of their platforms and onto the lower rows.
“Silence!” thundered Professor Reed.
Stalking down the stage, she gestured sharply at the burning bread—now charred to a blackened husk, and starting to catch a nearby sweatshirt on fire—and the mess dissipated into steam and ash. The scent of burning bread, fabric, and a pungent charred meat smell from the Naga’s injuries that was more fishy than reptilian.
“Who did this?”
No one responded. All of the students were wide-eyed with fear—first of the naga, but now of their teacher—and were huddled together in the back rows of the auditorium. All save for Kimberly, who had ducked away behind a veil of illusion as soon as the bread was out of her hands and was at that moment hiding behind the professor’s desk.
“Who cast that spell?”
The naga, who had slithered behind his master and was holding the wrist of his injured hand, tipped his nose toward a cluster of students in the corner farthest from himself. “The boy. The one who brought no gift.”
“I did not!” Aidan shouted.
The professor turned to the naga, placing a fist over her heart as she bowed low. “My deepest apologies, honored one. I am so terribly sorry. I will see that the boy is suitably punished. Is there any penance I can offer you?”
The naga opened its mouth, but James cut him off. “Relax, Eleanor. He’ll be fine.”
Sam hissed. “I will not. No one would have dared back in India—”
“Oh, don’t start that again!”
“—where I was worshipped—”
“You’re not in Kansas anymore.”
“—and treated like a god—”
“Yawn.”
“—and—”
“Sam. Shut up. No one cares.”
The naga did shut his mouth with a clack of fangs, fists clenched tightly at his sides. James turned back to the professor.
“Look, I think we’ve hit his limit for the day. We can try this again in a few days, once he calms down.”
The professor nodded, but Sam hissed again. “No. I won’t come back here. I’ll give the girl the blessing since I already said I would, but you can’t make me do it for anyone else.”
James made a protesting sound, but Professor Reed placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. She ducked her head and briefly used her free hand to rub the bridge of her nose just above her glasses before turning her attention back to the students inching their way back to their seats.
“Class, you are dismissed to the library. For the remainder of the module, you are to study proper comportment when dealing with nagas. Aidan, Kimberly, you two remain.”
The rest of the students shuffled out of the theater, all of them giving the naga a wide berth. The stares and whispers made Kimberly’s skin crawl with discomfort. She hoped she didn’t have to stick around for more than the blessing. Aidan would make her pay for it later if she was around to witness whatever it was the professor was planning on dishing out.
It didn’t take long for the room to empty. Professor Reed gave Aidan a pointed look, and he sullenly shuffled into one of the seats at the front row.
“You don’t have to do your thing if you don’t want to,” James said to Sam.
“I’m not going back on my word.”
James shrugged, then waved Kimberly over. She hesitated, but did as directed, though she stayed a healthy distance away from the giant snake whose tail was still twitching with obvious irritation. James gave her a playful punch on the shoulder and a wink as he headed over to join Professor Reed and Aidan.
“Quick thinking with that illusion, kid. Nice work.”
She nodded thanks, but kept her eyes glued to the naga. Sam inclined his head, those unblinking gold eyes focusing with unnerving intensity on Kimberly’s face. His voice was low, quiet, not intended to carry to the ears of the other magi.
“You knew he would do it. You’re not one of them.”
It wasn’t a question, but Kimberly gave him a mute nod anyway.
“I wondered why you used an illusion… I am sorry if I frightened you.”
That startled a short, high laugh out of her. “It wasn’t your fault. I’m sorry you were hurt. We’re not all like… like that.” She gave a vague wave in Aidan and James’s direction.
Sam briefly dipped his head. She couldn’t read his face; the snake-head didn’t have the musculature to give her any hint of an expression aside from the glitter in his eye. Yet she was sure he was seeing something more than what was on the surface. The sense of being studied right down to the fae power running in her half-blood veins was unnerving, but
she kept her mouth shut and waited patiently for his response. He didn’t take long to bob his head again.
“Yes, I know. Being Other does not exempt us from making foolish choices.” He rubbed his hands together, then held one out to her. “Kimberly, yes? I am Samudra. Or Sam, if you prefer.”
Though she hesitated, she soon reached out to shake his offered hand. She had thought his skin might be rough or maybe even slimy, but his palm was cool and smooth against her own, and his grip surprisingly gentle during the brief handshake.
“What’s your preference?” she asked.
Kimberly could have sworn he was smiling, though nothing about his expression changed. “Sam will do. May I touch you? It will work better that way.”
Mouth dry, she nodded again and stepped closer. His forked tongue flickered out, probably sensing her nervousness. Once she was within arm’s reach, he placed his right hand on her forehead, his claws lightly trailing through her hair until the very tips brushed her scalp. It didn’t hurt, but she still shivered at the touch.
A light tingle of some kind of foreign magic crept over her skin. If she hadn’t been hyped up from fear and so focused on what he was doing, she might not have noticed it.
Sam withdrew, and the tingle faded. He bowed his head, lightly touching the fingers of his right hand to his own brow.
“You have a kind heart. I do wish you luck.”
Kimberly mirrored his gesture, though she wished she could ask exactly what he had done. She didn’t remember reading about anything quite like this in her school books. By his formal tone, she thought the words might carry more significance than simple well-wishes, so she responded in kind.
“Thank you, wise one. I will honor the gift you have given me.”
She couldn’t be sure, but she thought by the tilt of his shoulders and the way he tipped up his chin that he might be pleased with her response. She had studied the chapter on proper comportment around dragons and their ilk before—and again that morning before class, brushing up her knowledge since she expected Cormac might introduce her to one soon.
