by A. L. Knorr
Every fire mage had a mark, usually shaped like a fireball, on their body somewhere that characterized them as a member of our supernatural species. It was always pale to start with but darkened over time as their skills developed. Mine was as black as coal. Basil was right to want to keep it out of view.
“Sounds easy enough,” I replied.
But then he hit me with...
“Unfortunately, you’ll not be eligible for the top marks awards...”
“Wait, what? Why not?”
He gave me a look of tried patience. “Saxony, you’re a fourth-degree mage because of what’s happened to you. That alone disqualifies you from competing against the rest of the first-years.”
“Then pitch me against the second-years. If I lose a shot at the honors list because of stupid Ryan...”
“I can’t do that, Saxony. The second-years would riot.”
Slumping against the sofa’s plush back, I couldn’t stop a groan.
“I’m sorry, Saxony. Even if your status wasn’t a secret, I could never allow it. We have no other fourth-level mages for you to compete against because they don’t train here, they train at the Agency. You and I are the only Burned under this roof.”
“Then why don’t we compete?” I gave what I hoped was a dazzling grin of encouragement. I’d been wondering just how powerful the headmaster was ever since my initial visit. He’d tested me in the privacy of the empty training facility with only my father for an audience. Basil had tested the pounds per square inch of my best punch, but even when I’d goaded him to show me his fire-backed punch, he wouldn’t take the bait.
Basil shot me a withering look. “Very funny.”
I didn’t hide my disappointment. “It was worth a shot.”
“To your peers, you’ll be a second-degree mage—already a step above the other first-years—”
He said this like it was supposed to make me feel better.
“—And you’ll graduate to third-degree by years’ end. That will have to be enough for you, Ms. Cagney. Any more than that will trigger red flags.”
I pulled a face. Rating as a third-degree when I’d had my heart set on qualifying as a fifth-degree by the end of the year was no consolation at all. I crossed my arms, aware but uncaring that I looked like a petulant child. “I have barely exchanged two sentences with Ryan since we arrived and he’s already a pain in my ass.”
“Mine too, Ms. Cagney.” Basil retrieved a folder and opened it with a flourish. “Just imagine how I feel. The prat is my godson. I’ve foolishly agreed to a lifetime of Ryan Wendig out of some misplaced affection for his father.”
He caught my startled expression at his declaration and amended. “I exaggerate. Now, let’s talk about your schedule.”
Ten
Induction Speech
My first look at the entire student body of Arcturus almost froze me in my tracks. My pulse quickened as I stepped through the stone arches leading from the main hall.
Headmaster Chaplin’s induction day speech was held in the large ballroom I had chased the thief through. Chairs now sat in neat rows facing a line of pillars and archways that divided the room from a smaller, raised seating area. Diamond-pane windows overlooked the rear of the property and let in the soft light of a rainy, English morning.
Only potential students, first-years and their families had attended the Fire Fair, a mere quarter of the student population and mostly eighteen-year-olds. Here, ages ranged from the youngest—me—at seventeen to twenty-three. Only a handful wore the Arcturus uniform—first-years scheduled for the placement class or others who had practical classes—the rest were dressed in casual clothing.
Voices buzzed and the room vibrated with first-day-of-school excitement, albeit a more mature and subdued kind, in keeping with the college feel. My high school back home on Canada’s east coast never had this kind of energy. There was a sense of being part of an exclusive club, even the impression of superiority from some of the third-year students. It was strange to think of them as students. They were young, but also clearly adults who took their education here seriously.
Scanning the crowd, I strolled down the aisle running between two groups of chairs smiling at anyone who noticed me, my gaze drawn to students in uniform. Spotting a familiar form from the back, I sped up to reach Gage where he stood chatting with someone I couldn’t see because there were too many bodies in the way. I reached out for his elbow but snapped my hand back as he turned to the side and I saw the facial hair that Gage didn’t have. Ryan faced me.
“Little Saxony from Saltford,” he drawled as he crossed his arms. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’ve been avoiding me.”
“I have.” I shot a brilliant smile at the student Ryan had been chatting with—an attractive man with black hair and black eyes. In the Arcturus uniform, he was striking.
Ryan laughed. “Clearly, we got off to the wrong foot. Can we start over?” He held out a hand.
I’ve never been one to refuse an olive branch but I half-expected Ryan to snatch his hand away at the last second. Slowly, I extended my own, daring him to humiliate me. Stopping just shy of our fingers touching, I waited.
Ryan’s hand swallowed mine.
Heat flared up my arm and our eyes locked as shock jolted through me like a shot of caffeine. Ryan was no less surprised as I watched his features expand.
Gage’s evil twin and I were bonded. Feeling nailed to the floor, I forgot to breathe for a moment.
“Um, should I leave you two alone?” the other student asked, lips curling in an uncertain smile, gaze flicking between Ryan and me.
“What do you know.” Ryan’s arrogant smile widened as his grip tightened. His eyes glittered in a curious, dangerous way. “Is this what you’ve been afraid of, Saxony? That we are bonded?”
The other student’s eyes widened.
My mouth was dry. Being lost for words was not something I was accustomed to. I always had a comeback, but not this time. The universe wasn’t fair. Bonded to my crush’s evil twin? The heat that had flared up my arm was just as intense as the bond I had with Gage and Basil. It was like a bad joke.
I pulled my hand away and turned my attention to the other student, offering a handshake. “Saxony Cagney, from Canada.”
He took my hand and shook it. “Tomio Nakano, from Japan.”
The absence of heat flaring up my arm knocked disappointment into my heart. Sometimes we want things we don’t even know we want until we don’t get them. If I’d felt a connection with Tomio too, I’d feel less shaken by my bond with Ryan. No such luck. It didn’t stop me from thinking Tomio was cute though, so I focused on that instead.
“Nice to meet you.” I felt Ryan’s eyes eating through me and painted a neutral expression on my face. The last thing I wanted him to know was just how unsettled he made me feel.
Tomio nodded at my uniform. “You’re a first-year, too?”
“Yes. I guess I’ll see you in the placement class.” I cleared my throat and began to move away. “Sorry but I was looking for someone. Enjoy the headmaster’s speech.”
Tomio arched a fine black brow and I kicked myself as I retreated through the crowd. Enjoy the headmaster’s speech? Lame. And where was Gage? Or even that shy girl with the pigtails from the Fire Fair.
I spotted Gage a second later as he entered the hall straightening his red Arcturus tie. My heart nearly leaped across the room at the sight of him. I put my hand in the air.
“Gage! Over here.”
A couple of girls chatting in the aisle looked at me and then who I’d been waving to. Gage’s bright, eager expression wasn’t his only charm.
Ignoring the girls’ titters, I met Gage at the last row of chairs.
“Good morning,” he said, expression earnest. “You look great in your uniform. Like, wow. You’re what a fire mage is supposed to look like.”
I clasped my hands in front of me, feeling a misplaced shame heat my cheeks. It wasn’t my fault I had a mage-bond
with Ryan, but it was still something I’d rather Gage didn’t know. I wondered if it was of enough consequence to Ryan to tell his twin. I cleared my throat. “Thanks. You pull off the uniform well yourself.”
“Did you save me a seat?” His gaze scanned the swarming mass of students. “There’s the headmaster.”
I looked to the front of the room to see Basil chatting with Professors Winkler and Hupelo. More professors milled about on the dais, finding a seat behind the podium and chatting with their colleagues.
“I wasn’t sure where to sit,” I replied. “I mean, do we play into the eager first-year stereotype, or sit at the back with the rebels and seniors?”
Gage laughed. “Why don’t we split the difference and go for the middle.”
“Good call.” I let Gage lead as we weaved between bodies, heat emanating from some more strongly than others. As we found a couple of empty seats, the headmaster moved toward the podium.
“Good morning, everyone.” He touched the mic with a fingertip and the sound system made a soft pop. “Find your seats. We’ll begin presently.”
Students milled about, lowering their voices and sitting in creaky chairs. The hubbub dimmed to an expectant quiet.
Headmaster Chaplin adjusted his spectacles. “I trust you all slept well. If anyone needs assistance getting settled, speak with our secretary, Mrs. Goshawk.” He gestured to a kind looking woman seated at the end of the row of professors. She lifted the pencil she held in her hand by way of greeting.
The headmaster turned back to the crowd. “Likewise, if you have scheduling errors or difficulty arriving for your classes on time due to geography. If you have difficulties arriving on time from pure laziness, you’re on your own.”
A few students tittered.
“Welcome back to our returning students, and a warm welcome to our first-years. It’s my pleasure to introduce this semester’s Arcturus staff, some of whom you will have seen at the Fire Fair.”
The headmaster swept an arm toward the seated professors at the opposite end of the stage from Mrs. Goshawk. The good-looking Fire Science instructor got to his feet with a nod as Headmaster Chaplin introduced him.
“Mr. Tyson Hupelo, our Fire Science and Safety professor.”
Professor Hupelo sat down again without a word and the teacher next to him got to her feet, a petite woman with iron gray hair.
“Dr. Christy Price, our Supernatural Medicine, The Supernatural Landscape, and Living with the Fire professor. She has a place of honor at this school. You can address her as Doctor, rather than Professor.”
The headmaster went down the line, professors bobbing up and down like rubber duckies riding a wave. He turned back to the crowd when he was finished and held up a pamphlet I recognized as a school map.
“The professor’s offices are marked on the map, should you need to talk with them. They’re all along the professor’s corridor with the exception of Dr. Price. You’ll find hers in a suite accessed through the library. I’m sure I don’t need to ask the older students to help any first-year who looks lost. We wouldn’t want any of them to wind up locked in the dungeon accidentally like last year.”
Knowing laughter erupted from the back of the room as the headmaster delivered this line in perfect seriousness.
Gage and I shared a look of unease. For a mage, captivity was a serious matter.
Without so much as a ‘just kidding’, the headmaster continued. “In Arcturus Academy tradition, a top marks achievement will be awarded after the final exams at the end of the semester, just before Christmas break. A winner from each year will be honored and we think you’ll agree that the prize is handsome. The victor’s name will be put on permanent display in the trophy hall and the following semester’s tuition will be waived. If the same victor wins Top Marks in both semesters, they may also choose from a selection of suites we set aside just for the purpose to live in for the following year.”
A rumble of exchanged conversation swept through the room as students reacted to the news of this juicy prize.
Gage leaned over. "I heard those suites are incredible. Amazing view, huge bathroom, an entertainment center and mini-kitchen. The works. It would be enough on its own, without the scholarship money."
"Not that it’s ever happened," the headmaster was saying, "but in the event that a graduating student has won Top Marks two years in a row, the winner is given a personal tour of the Arcturus Agency headquarters in London and an interview for possible placement. If this isn’t of interest to the victor, other introductions in this person’s chosen field of work will be made. I know this sounds vague but believe me, it’s worth striving for. Our recommendation goes a long way and can give mages looking for employment a leg up in what can be a competitive landscape."
My mind tripped and fell over this announcement. Positions at the Agency couldn’t be applied for, they could only be offered and were rare indeed according to chat I’d overheard. If I couldn’t qualify for the top marks award then how was I going to earn the academy’s recommendation?
Feeling Gage’s teasing eyes on me, I looked over to see him rubbing his hands together. “Good luck, Cagney. Just because you’re gorgeous doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you.”
I forced a laugh I didn’t feel. “Bring it on, Wendig. Think you’re mage enough to leave the puppies on the porch and come down into the yard to fight with the big dogs?”
Gage gave a good-natured guffaw and someone shushed us.
As Headmaster Chaplin went into housekeeping and the usual start-of-year topics such as extracurricular activities, clubs, year-book, and other highlights, I gnawed on my situation like a Rottweiler with a chew-toy.
I’d reluctantly accepted that I wouldn’t have a shot at top marks, but I hadn’t known that an interview at the agency had been part of the jumbo prize for a two-year-in-a-row victor. My status was supposed to give me an advantage among the world of the magi but so far it was a hindrance.
An acrid sting came to my throat as these thoughts went round. Annoyance lit my furnace as my fingers itched with a desire to strangle Ryan. My hands trembled with latent energy and I fisted them, nails digging into my palms.
It’s not my fault I’m Burned so why am I being punished for it?
“Hey,” Gage whispered, touching my knee and leaning forward a little to look into my face.
Shame flushed my cheeks and I looked away, hoping he hadn’t gotten a good look at my face. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, breathing my frustration away.
“Are you okay?” Gage’s hand squeezed my knee.
I nodded and took another breath before opening my eyes.
“Just a bit of indigestion,” I murmured.
He patted my knee.
“Do we have any questions?” Headmaster Chaplin scanned the crowd.
Great. I’d missed the rest of Basil’s speech.
A hand near the front shot into the air.
The headmaster jerked his chin in the hand’s direction. “Yes, Mr. Wendig?”
My spine went poker straight and my head came up. Whatever was going to come out of Ryan’s mouth right now, I knew it would be inflammatory.
“How are the Top Marks awards decided?” Ryan asked.
Headmaster Chaplin blinked, nonplussed. There was a long pause before he answered. When he spoke, it was with suppressed humor. “The Top Marks award is given to the students with the top marks,” he replied. “I’m sorry, I thought that was clear by the title: Top Marks.”
Laughter swept through the hall.
Undeterred, Ryan continued. “No, what I mean is, what is the system used to determine the winner? A mage could be a superstar in Pyrotechnics but flunk out of History of the Mages; shouldn’t their stellar performance in a more important class outweigh a poor performance in a less important class?”
There was another pause as the headmaster absorbed this. Then: “I fail to understand what you mean by ‘less important’ class.”
I mentally congratulated
Headmaster Chaplin on his ability to sound so neutral. Ryan’s implication was obvious.
“We’re here to learn how to hone our fire.” Ryan shot back, voice laced with a touch of disdain. “Surely the classes which actually involve using the fire—like the skills and combat classes—should be worth more than the theoretical subjects?”
The headmaster took a breath and directed his answer to everyone as he raised a hand. “I apologize if I was not clear at the Fire Fair. Just to ensure there is no confusion, all of the classes are weighted the same. Each student is marked individually by each of their instructors, the top marks award is given based on the highest average grade achieved by any one student, of any one year.” He directed his gaze back to Ryan and actually lowered his face to peer at his godson from over the bridge of his glasses. “Is that clear?”
Silence.
The headmaster went on. “Arcturus is a place for all fire mages, whether their inclination is to work in the field as an agent or to go into research. We have graduates working in all industries, from supernatural medicine, to physics, to technology. They are all valuable. They are all equal. Are there any more questions?”
Someone mimicked the sound of a cricket chirping and a few people laughed.
“Excellent.” The headmaster smiled. “Assembly dismissed.”
First-year students sprang from their seats and bolted for the doors as though chased by slavering wolves.
“Walk, please!” The headmaster barked. “There are no classes so far away that sprinting is necessary. You are young adults, not a pack of hyenas.”
Conversation filled the hall once more as we vacated our seats and headed for the exits.
“My brother can be so embarrassing,” Gage murmured as we shuffled toward the doors. “You know he asked that question because he wants everyone to know what he thinks.”
