Metal and Magic: A Fantasy Journey

by Steve Windsor

  They darted towards a room on their left—it was scarcely larger than a toilet stall, though they managed to cram into the corner, pressing their backs to the wall. Tristan could feel Leila’s ragged breathing on his neck.

  A second later Delair’s voice said, “There was a light in the hall, just a moment ago.”

  “Damn!” Leila whispered.

  Crunching footsteps and lamplight approached; Tristan heard a soft scraping as the metal bucket was set upright again, followed immediately by a new voice.

  “I have to leave. Good evening.” The voice was female, though Tristan couldn’t tell who it belonged to.

  As the light bobbed closer still, Tristan put his arms around Leila’s waist and pulled her back, forcing the three of them to fit into the impossibly small corner. Holding his breath, Tristan dug his shoulders into the stone wall.

  Then a bright light shone directly on their faces. “I should have known it would be you, Fairholm,” Delair said, chuckling. “You have quite a knack for showing up where you don’t belong. Come on out; the only punishment you’ll receive tonight is a lecture.”

  Laughing nervously, Tristan unwound his arms from Leila’s waist and stepped forward.

  As Leila relit their lantern, Delair led them along the tunnel until they reached the main hallway.

  “So you’re not gonna report us?” Rusty asked. When Delair shook his head, Rusty muttered, “Told you so,” to Leila.

  “Now for the lecture,” Delair said, stopping at the mouth of his tunnel. “Fairholm, I’m sure you realize how much danger you are in, which would explain why you hid—sloppily, I might add.” He winked and cleared his throat. “Drakewell is no longer willing to forgive you; I’m sure he made that inescapably clear earlier this semester. And if he caught you and your friends sneaking around the tunnels, I have no doubt he would expel all three of you without waiting for the other teachers to give their opinions. You would be sent straight back to Juvie. Is that clear?”

  Tristan glanced unhappily at Leila and Rusty. Expulsion would be nothing compared to what Drakewell had threatened to do to Amber, but if he had known that Leila and Rusty were in danger of getting kicked out, he wouldn’t have allowed them to follow him into the tunnels.

  “Yes, it’s clear, Professor,” Leila said, scowling.

  Delair nodded. “Don’t plan on being this lucky again, kids. See you in class tomorrow.”

  Apologizing once again, Tristan, Leila, and Rusty hurried away.

  “Can we get food now?” Rusty said as soon as they reached the end of the hall.

  Tristan ignored him. “You guys are not exploring with me again,” he said tersely, crossing his arms.

  “Oh, Triss, don’t—”

  “No,” he said, in a tone that didn’t allow for argument.

  The end of the year was now racing towards him so quickly that there was something he couldn’t put off any longer. He needed to speak to the two people he was putting in danger: Evvie and Amber.

  Tristan found a chance to talk with Amber the very next day. After Merridy’s class let out he gave his bag to Leila, who complained and asked him what he was up to; eventually she promised to take his books down to the Subroom and bother him for an explanation later. Then he followed Amber up to the meadow, where she made for the trees as usual.

  “Amber?” he called uncertainly. He didn’t want to frighten her away before he had a chance to ask his question, so he stopped on the new grass just outside the Lair’s entrance.

  At Tristan’s voice, Amber froze and turned cautiously. When she recognized him, some of the fear left her eyes. “Oh, Tristan. Why are you here?”

  “I had a question—no, there’s something I have to tell you,” Tristan said. The air was light and warm despite the breeze, so he rolled the sleeves of his blue shirt past his elbows as he crossed the clearing to join her. “Can I walk with you?”

  Amber beamed at him in response.

  When they had wandered far enough into the trees that Tristan could no longer see the clearing over his shoulder, he crossed his arms and began. “Remember what Drakewell told us at the beginning of the year, about that room where the secret of the school was supposed to be hidden?”

  “Of course.” Amber stopped to pluck a jay’s feather from the ground. “He described the door to us—the door with the globe of Delairium.”

  Tristan nodded. “I know we were supposed to stay away from it no matter what, but—well, I sort of stumbled across it last night.”

  “And you think Drakewell knows?” Amber shook her head. “It’s not possible for him to read your thoughts, though perhaps there is another way for him to find out. But you’re afraid of what he might do to you?” Slowing, she slipped the blue feather behind her ear, where it stood out like a streak of fire against her pale hair.

  “Yeah, and—since he told both of us, I don’t want him to blame you as well.” Tristan stopped and took a deep breath. He hadn’t been sure whether he wanted to say this next bit; Amber might understand, though, and she deserved to know the truth.

  Giving Tristan a half-smile, Amber sank fluidly to the ground, where she sat cross-legged with her hands splayed over the budding grass. Tristan dropped to his knees beside her.

  “Drakewell thinks I know who the vandal is,” he began carefully. “And I do have a...a suspicion. But I’m afraid of what would happen to that person if I accused them.” He glanced up and met Amber’s intense gaze, though a moment later he dropped his eyes guiltily to the roots of a nearby tree. “A few months ago, Drakewell said I had to tell him what I knew about the vandal by the end of the year, or he would—he said he’d punish you in my place.”

  For a long moment Amber was silent. Her expression hardly changed, though Tristan saw a slight crease in her brow that meant she was thinking intently. She should be furious at him.

  At last she met Tristan’s nervous gaze, her lips twitching in a wry smile. “Thank you for telling me,” she said. “I can’t guess who you think the vandal might be, though I am certain he or she is important to you. However, I have been keeping a few secrets from you as well.”

  Tristan laughed. “You’re nothing but secrets,” he said. “It doesn’t matter that you haven’t told me a few of them, does it?”

  Amber shook her head. “This is important. You see, Drakewell spoke to me in private as well, perhaps the very same day he drew you aside. I don’t think he believed I knew anything about the vandal, but he made the same threat to me.” She smoothed her wispy hair and smiled at Tristan. “If each of us is too valuable to be destroyed, but Drakewell intends to punish whoever fails to learn the truth, then it seems our best course of action would be to do nothing.”

  “Drakewell was tricking us, then!” Tristan wanted to laugh aloud. “Maybe he wanted to test us or something.” At last he was freed from the miserable guilt that had gnawed at him all spring. “This is wonderful! Come on, let’s walk some more.” Jumping to his feet, Tristan took Amber’s hand and pulled her up. Though she looked bemused by his enthusiasm, she returned his smile.

  For a long time they strolled through the awakening forest, following pale green dapples of light that filtered down through the budding aspen leaves. Squirrels and birds darted across their path, and once they even stumbled upon a white-spotted fawn that stared at them for several long minutes before bounding away.

  “You see why I love the forest?” Amber asked shyly as they began to make their way back to the school. Her turquoise eyes were lit up with happiness, and she looked ready to float away into the trees.

  Tristan grinned at her. “I’m beginning to understand.” He had already loved the wilderness around the school, but it was amazing to see the effect it had on Amber.

  When they reached the Lair, the sun had just sunk below the distant ridge, and the other students were beginning to gather in the ballroom for dinner. Tristan was still smiling to himself when he joined Leila and Rusty at their usual table.

  “What have you bee
n doing?” Leila asked suspiciously.

  “Nothing, I—” Tristan broke off, because Evvie had just entered the ballroom. At the sight of Evvie, his bubble of happiness imploded—if Evvie was the vandal, then she was still endangering everyone at the school, and he, Tristan, would still be responsible for anything bad that happened if he failed to report her.

  He had to learn the truth before Evvie got the chance to do anything awful.

  “What were you going to say?” Leila asked, frowning.

  “Nothing.”

  Chapter 20: Unexcused Absences

  It was another week before Tristan found a chance to speak with Evvie. Finals were nearly upon them—it was early May, and there were only three weeks remaining in the school year. Tristan was distracted from his preoccupation with the vandal by an ever-growing pile of homework.

  After Grindlethorn, Merridy, and Brikkens had each spent a lesson going over the format of their exams, Damian interrupted Alldusk’s lecture to complain loudly about finals.

  “What’s the point of exams?” he asked heatedly. “It’s not like we’ll be applying for colleges, so why the hell should we study? Are we going to be stuck doing punishments for the rest of our lives?”

  Alldusk gave Damian a thin-lipped smile. “There are other reasons to perform well aside from the fear of punishment.”

  “Sure,” Zeke said sarcastically.

  “Though I wouldn’t rule out punishment as a motivation,” Alldusk said sternly. “More importantly, some of you will be given the option to return home for the summer, but this privilege will be revoked if you fail too many classes.”

  “Go home?” Rusty yelped.

  “What the—?” Eli said. “You kept that quiet!”

  Tristan said nothing. He had already known they would be going home for the summer, since Alldusk had mentioned it in passing months ago, but the significance of it had not registered at the time.

  “You’re lying,” Damian said. “You’re just going to send us straight back to Juvie, right?”

  Alldusk held up his hands for silence. “Drakewell will speak with each of you in the next week to discuss your options. A few of you still have remaining time to serve, so you won’t have the option to return. And anyone who wishes may choose to remain here over the summer.”

  It was the very next day when Drakewell called Tristan to his office to discuss the summer with him.

  “You will be allowed to return home,” Drakewell said, peering at a set of notes. “However, if the trespasser is not apprehended before the end of the year, I may rethink that decision.”

  Tristan swallowed.

  The week before finals, everyone began studying for exams in earnest. The ballroom became the main hang-out for students, both from the Subroom and the bunkroom—a bookshelf with textbooks and reference volumes had appeared along the back wall, and the tables were piled with pens and extra paper. Quinsley kept the students well supplied with treats, appearing every hour or so with cookies and hot chocolate for anyone studying there.

  Leila had borrowed the Beginner’s Guide to Magical Theory from Tristan, and she was now attempting to read it cover-to-cover before exams began. “I’ll feel more comfortable taking the tests if I’m not just memorizing random facts,” she explained patiently. “Besides, I might learn something useful.” She gave Tristan a significant look. “For instance, you still haven’t told me what was so important about that locked door we found.”

  Tristan rolled his eyes.

  Unhelpfully, the teachers seemed to think this was a good time to assign every homework project they hadn’t gotten around to yet. Even chubby little Finley Glenn, who always finished his homework on time and knew the answers in class, was seen scribbling away in the ballroom long past midnight. Cailyn was struggling in most of her classes, so Rusty, Trey, and Hayley tutored her whenever one of them had a free moment.

  When the students weren’t studying in the ballroom, they were hiking extensively to collect magical herbs for Gracewright; examining and recording every variety of rock and mineral that Delair brought to class; and demonstrating to Grindlethorn the proper methods of treating various injuries by bandaging their own limbs.

  “They’re going to kill us,” Rusty grumbled one morning, staring listlessly at his empty plate. Even his unshakeable cheerfulness had been dampened considerably by their workload.

  Tristan had barely slept the night before. Rubbing his tired eyes, he slumped back in his chair.

  “I learned something last night,” Leila said, dropping a large pancake onto Tristan’s plate. She waited for a moment, clearly hoping for a response. Tristan merely yawned, staring blearily at the pancake, and after a moment Leila sighed and continued.

  “Well, that book of yours says it is possible to do magic with lots and lots of marbles working together, but you need a conduit for any large-scale spells.”

  This sounded important, though Tristan could not think why. Lots of marbles working together, he thought slowly. We have lots of marbles in the Subroom. The school has lots of marbles somewhere...

  “So you mean all those marbles we’ve collected are useless?” Rusty asked sullenly.

  “We can still use them as leverage,” Leila said, “but yeah, we can’t do much actual magic with them.”

  “Wait,” Tristan said. Something had just fallen into place. He couldn’t believe it had taken him this long to figure it out. “Drakewell told us there’s a place in this school where lots of marbles are stashed, right?”

  Rusty and Leila looked at each other and nodded.

  Tristan stared at the wall, thinking hard. “And the pile of marbles is dangerous to destroy. But...there has to be a conduit somewhere, too. That’s what Drakewell meant.” Tristan was talking half to himself now. “I bet the marbles have to be close to the conduit, and the conduit has to be the room with the globe. So—” He broke off, unwilling to voice what he’d just realized.

  The locked room with the Delairium globe on the door was very close to the room Evvie kept returning to. That couldn’t be an accident. Which meant Evvie, or the unknown person hiding in the tunnels, had to be targeting that locked room. And an explosion there would kill everyone in the Lair.

  Tristan jumped to his feet. “I have to talk to Evvie.” He scanned the ballroom. “Crap, where is she?”

  “Tristan!” Leila grabbed his wrist. “We have class in five minutes. You can’t go running off.”

  Cursing, Tristan kicked his book bag. Then he sank slowly back into his chair.

  The day felt like the longest Tristan could remember. Ominously, Evvie did not appear for Brikkens’ class or even for lunch.

  “Come on, Leila, let me go after her, I’ve got plenty of time,” Tristan said when they reached the ballroom. “I’ve got the marbles with me; I just have to run down and—”

  Leila grabbed his shoulder. “Not now,” she whispered, pointing towards the doorway.

  Blinking sleepily, Tristan turned and saw Drakewell stalk into the ballroom. Hayley, who was standing directly in the headmaster’s path, gave a squeak and dove out of the way.

  “Quiet,” Drakewell said unnecessarily. “I only require a moment of your time.”

  Hayley huddled by the wall, unmoving.

  “Your teachers should be handing out an exam schedule sometime this afternoon,” Drakewell said in a bored tone. “As summer break is fast approaching, those students who have decided they wish to remain here over the summer should come speak to me.” He narrowed his eyes suddenly. “Where is Miss Rosewell?”

  With a groaning of wood, Brikkens shifted in his seat. “Oh, dear,” he said. “Miss Rosewell was absent from my class this morning, and I must say she missed quite an important lesson. Such a pity, isn’t it?”

  For some reason, Drakewell glared at Alldusk. “Notify me the moment she reappears,” he said. “Better yet, send her to my office.”

  Turning, he swept out of the ballroom.

  “We should start on that assignment
of Grindlethorn’s,” Leila said briskly, breaking the silence that Drakewell had left in his wake. Tristan had the shrewd idea that she was trying to distract him from Evvie.

  “I don’t have time for that,” Tristan said under his breath. “Seriously, Leila, I’ve got to go after her.”

  “Wait until classes are over,” she whispered.

  Oblivious to Tristan’s distress, Rusty had started tying a length of gauze around his wrist and labeling it. When the doors to the ballroom crashed open once again, Tristan flinched, spilling his cranberry juice all over Rusty’s bandage.

  “Argh, I’m bleeding!” Rusty said.

  It was not Drakewell who stood in the doorway this time but Alldusk.

  “Has anyone seen Darla today?” he asked with a frown. “She was supposed to meet me just now, but I can’t find her.”

  Tristan jumped to his feet. “I’ll see you guys later,” he said. “Sorry about the cranberry juice.”

  He broke into a run as he left the ballroom, nearly colliding with Alldusk in the doorway. “Sorry,” he called over his shoulder.

  Reaching the stairs, Tristan grabbed the rail and jumped the last four steps. With stiff fingers he dug in the front pocket of his jeans for marbles; he found three, which he grasped tightly as he ran. They felt like good-luck talismans.

  He didn’t see anyone on the stairs, though that was lucky since he was making quite a racket skidding along the marble floors. By the time he reached Delair’s mine tunnel, he was panting and clutching at his chest. Tristan hardly needed the marbles to find Evvie; by this point he could navigate these tunnels by touch. He didn’t want to make any mistakes, though, so he performed the spell as usual. When the marble began drifting lazily towards the depths of Delair’s mine, Tristan set his mouth in a grim line.

  “Okay, Evvie,” he muttered. “Let’s see what you’ve been doing down here.” Taking a deep breath, he started off into the blackness.

  The distance to Evvie’s room seemed longer than usual, and Tristan’s anticipation grew with each step. Was Evvie the vandal? He should have told someone sooner, before it was too late. Or was she just helping hide the vandal? Did she know the school’s secret?