by A. L. Knorr
“Huh.” He was right, my body did feel fatigued, but it was different, a kind of tingly prickle rather than a shaky weakness. It wasn’t totally pleasant. I hoped that as I got better, the feeling would lessen.
Sixteen
Parallels
When the headmaster dismissed me, I headed through the quiet halls toward my room to shower, and get my laptop. When I passed a classroom with an open door, I couldn’t resist eavesdropping.
I recognized April, Jade, and Tomio, among the students but I wasn’t sure which class it was. Obviously a theoretical one, given everyone was seated facing a dais where the lecturer had access to an old-fashioned chalkboard and desk. Dr. Christy Price hosted the class.
“Those of you who take this class seriously and are motivated enough to do research on your own will be rewarded. Once a month, we’ll be playing a little game I like to call ‘Real, Not Real’. I’ll give you no advance warning that this game will be played, and those of you who prepare all month long over your own study hours will be most likely to win the top mark for the class. Shall we play a test round?”
There was an interested murmur from the class. This must be The Supernatural Landscape class then. Part of their syllabus was learning about other kinds of supernaturals. A jolt of jealousy went through me. I looked forward to finishing my high-school courses so I would have the time to add the theoretical classes to my timetable.
Nearest to me, in the back row, Jade sat back against her seat with one booted foot perched on the lip of her desk. She leaned over and whispered something to the girl beside her and they giggled.
The professor continued, “I’ll say the name of a supernatural species and you will have four options to answer with. The first is ‘real and viable’, which means you know that this supernatural is real for a fact and that they can procreate. The second is ‘real’, meaning you know for a fact the supernatural is real, but is not able to procreate. The third is ‘not real’, meaning the species is fiction. And the final option is ‘unknown’, which means you know that no proof of said supernatural actually exists. You are not allowed to answer unless you are 100% certain because any single wrong answer will disqualify you for the top marks award immediately. Understand?” She tilted her chin down for emphasis and spoke very slowly. “Absolutely no guessing is allowed.”
A few of the students shifted in their seats, sharing uneasy looks. The threat of disqualification had gotten their attention. The stakes for this game were high.
Intrigued, I pressed closer to the door jamb to hear better, curiosity whipped up like the peaks of a meringue pie.
“Let’s do a practice round and get a few of the easy ones out of the way,” Dr. Price said, beginning to pace in a lazy fashion. She cleared her voice and put up a finger as she gave the first species. “Faerie.”
I pressed my lips together to fight the near overwhelming urge to yell out ‘real and viable’. Dr. Price hadn’t noticed me lurking by the door yet and I didn’t think she’d take kindly to me taking part in her class.
The classroom was quiet until April’s voice came from the front row. “Real and viable.”
“Very good, Ms. Brown.” Dr. Price put her hands behind her back. “Ghost.”
Another beat of silence before April answered again. “Real.”
The doctor nodded and changed the direction of her pacing, casting her keen gaze over the students. “The rest of you are going to have to respond faster if you want a chance to win top marks in this class. Clearly, Ms. Brown has been doing her own research. Pay attention now, here is the next one: angel.”
“Real and viable,” April piped up with confidence. “But they’re not supposed to procreate. That’s why some of them fell. A long time ago they crossed with humans and made hybrids called Nephilim and Rephaim. It really ticked off the Big Guy.”
Even Dr. Price looked a little dazed at April’s answer, but she nodded. “Just the answer will do, April.”
“Bollocks!” called Jade. “There’s no such thing as angels.”
The doctor’s cool eyes fell on her. “Clearly, you’ve not yet taken advantage of the selection of work in our library. You’ll have to start if you want to get a step ahead of Ms. Brown here.”
“Look up the elohim, Jade.” April cast an eager look over her shoulder. Her expression was painfully sweet. Everything about her was apologetic for getting all the answers right so far and said, please like me.
April’s gaze flicked past Jade, meeting my eyes. She lifted a hand in a cheerful wave.
Unfortunately, Dr. Price caught her wave as well. Busted. The students turned to see who April was waving at.
I took a step back from the doorway, stomach churning with guilt like I’d been caught stealing.
“Looks like we have an eavesdropper.” Jade took her foot down from her desk and hooked an elbow over the back of her seat, looking pleased to have caught me out.
The doctor lifted a brow. “Don’t you have a class to be in, Ms...?”
“That’s Saxony Cagney,” April replied helpfully. “She’s doing her last year of high school by correspondence.”
“Then she’d best get to it.” Dr. Price waved me along, her expression pleasant and forgiving.
Jade got out of her seat and came toward the door, almost stomping.
“Sorry,” I called to the doctor. “I was just curious.”
“Then you should have signed up for the class.” Jade sneered, closing the door in my face.
Walking by April’s room later that evening I was stopped by the sound of a quiet sniff. I approached her door—which was sitting open a few inches—and paused outside. I frowned as I heard her give another sniff and tapped on the door.
“April?”
Pushing the door open with a finger, I peered inside.
April lay upside down on her bed, her feet and legs propped up on the wall, pointed toward the ceiling. Her hair spread across her quilt and a book was propped open over her face. She reached up a hand to lift the cover and an eye peeked out at me.
“Hiya.” She sniffed again and rolled over to sit up.
“You okay?” I came into her room and sat on the mattress, the springs gave a squeak.
April wrapped her skinny arms around her shins and propped her chin on her knees. “I’m smart.”
I would have laughed except that her expression was so serious. “I don’t think anyone doubts that.”
“But it won’t matter here at Arcturus. I aced every class back in Wychwood. Honors student. I could get a scholarship to anywhere, full ride. I loved every subject and got straight A’s since kindergarten, except in grade six math when I got a B-plus, the only one of my life. I was devastated.” She gave a wistful smile and reached for a tissue from the box on her bedside table.
She couldn’t quite reach so I leaned forward and held the box out for her. April took a tissue and gave a delicate blow.
“I’ve never not been good at anything except the fire. I’m a catastrophic failure.”
“I wouldn’t say catastrophic,” I replied, awfully close, though. “Did something happen today?”
April blew a raspberry. “What didn’t happen? We were working on throwing. Normally I can’t throw at all, my fireballs are too small and just expire in mid-air. But I actually lit a decent one and lobbed it well. I don’t have a great pitching arm though, and my ball hit Kendall in the side of the head.”
“Oh, dear.” I put my fingers over my mouth to hide my smile. “Was he okay?”
“Yeah, he was fine. I would have actually been proud of the fact that I’d produced a ball worth throwing, but then Jade started laughing hysterically and wouldn’t stop. My fire just died right then and there.”
“No one likes being laughed at.”
“Of course not, but you missing my point. My fire died.”
“What do you mean?”
“It went out and I couldn’t get it started again. No matter how patiently I coaxed it, I couldn’t get it to
surface. It’s like Jade’s laughter sent it running behind a rock and it just wouldn’t come out again.”
“I’m sorry. That’s awful.”
“Wanda said it’s a good thing I’m a star in theory classes so far because they’re the only way I have a chance at winning top marks. She says I have to learn to dissociate my emotions from my fire because if I can’t it’s the kiss of death for a mage.” She let out a dramatic sigh and then shuddered. “I may as well resign myself to a second year here before I’ve even started.”
“You can’t give up that easily, April. The fire just takes practice.” I pulled my legs up under me and sat facing her. Here was the perfect opportunity to set up the tutoring Basil wanted me to do. “Hours in. That’s all it is.”
April gave me a hopeful look and it sent a dart of guilt into my heart. I believed that April could become better with practice, but I didn’t know it for a fact. The fire seemed to come easily to some and not to others. But the headmaster wouldn’t have asked me to coach her if it wasn’t possible for her to improve.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. What I if I coached you a couple times a week? Just us.
April straightened, her moisture-rimmed eyes brightened. “Why would you do that?”
I shrugged. “I needed a tutor for algebra in grade ten. We all need a little help from time to time. What goes around comes around.”
The look April gave me was pure gratitude. “I’d want to give you something in return. Do you need any help?”
“The semester is still young. I promise I’ll ask for help when I need it. Okay?”
“Okay.” She gave me a teary smile.
Seeing her smile reminded me of her enthusiastic wave to me as I’d eavesdropped on her class. “Hey, how did you know about all those supernaturals in your theory class? The one where Dr. Price was doing that real, not real game?”
April waved a hand. “I read a lot. Plus, my hometown has a lot of supernatural activity. I grew up curious about it. I collected every book or manuscript I could get my hands on when I was young. Read my fill until I became more interested in boys. I only need to read things once to remember them forever.”
I started. “You have a photographic memory?”
“I guess.” April yawned like it was no big deal.
“You were never tested for it?”
“No. I just read about it and figured that’s what I had. I used to have eidetic memory too, but it’s faded as I’ve gotten older.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Eidetic memory is the ability to view a faithful image from one’s past with accurate detail, like it’s a photo in their mind. Photographic memory is the ability to remember text and numbers.” She lowered her voice. “I never told the headmaster in our interview. I’m worried that he’ll disqualify me from being eligible for top marks if he knew.” Her expression changed and she suddenly looked stricken. She grabbed my arm and squeezed. “You won’t tell?”
I patted her hand, feeling a little sick with envy. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
She yawned then let out a relieved sigh. “Thank you. I need all the head-start I can get.”
“Cool.” I got off her bed. “I’d better let you get some rest. You look beat. Shall we have our first tutoring session tomorrow before breakfast? Nobody uses the gym until after everyone has had coffee.”
She gave me a grateful but tired smile. “Yeah. Thanks Saxony.”
I wished her good night and closed her door behind me, already feeling dread for the morning. Tutoring wouldn’t be a pleasure, but if it kept me from becoming a sociopath...
When I got back to my room I looked up April’s hometown of Wychwood on my laptop. It was a small town in Maine which looked to be isolated by miles of forest on three sides, not far from the Atlantic coast. Interesting. My own hometown of Saltford was also a hotbed of supernatural activity. I didn’t know how long it had been like that, whether it was something that had come about recently, or if it had always been that way and me and my friends had only just become aware of it as we gained our supernatural abilities.
I recalled what my friend Georjie had said about ley lines, that they were highways of energy that wrapped around the earth like a grid, and that two of these lines intersected at a perfect right angle beneath Saltford, a supernatural crossroads.
Zooming out on the map so I could see both Wychwood and Saltford at the same time, my jaw went slack. Our towns sat at the same latitude; forty-four degrees North.
The same ley line that ran beneath Saltford also passed beneath April’s town.
18 hours later...
My knees jiggled up and down as I perched on a chair outside of Headmaster Chaplin’s office. When the door opened and an older student came out, I snapped to my feet.
“He’ll see you now,” the student said glumly.
I paused as I registered a bald patch on the side of his head. “What happened to you? Mage hair doesn’t burn.”
“Alchemy,” he muttered, touching his scalp gingerly. “Third-year stuff. I’d avoid that class when the time comes if I were you.”
I watched him go down the stairs as I wondered what was taught in Fire Alchemy.
“Ms. Cagney?” Basil’s voice drifted out the door, reminding me of why I was here and how annoyed I was.
Stalking inside, I headed straight for his desk and stopped in front of him, hands on my hips. “Are you trying to kill me?”
He straightened his spectacles. “Not today. Why?”
I threw my hands up. “April is impossible. What is she even doing here?”
“Ah.” He rolled his office chair back and gestured to his sofa. “You had your first tutoring session, I take it?”
I huffed. “If you can call it that. I taught her nothing. Do you know what happened when I asked her to ignite straw? Straw!”
He opened his mouth but I didn’t wait.
“Nothing! Nothing happened!”
This wasn’t entirely true. Ryan had randomly poked his head into the fire-gym. This was before breakfast, so the gym wasn’t locked, anyone could use it. When he saw we were there, he leaned against the door with his arms crossed, watching with a smug little smile on his face until I snarled at him to put an egg in his shoe and beat it. He was cramping April’s fire.
Ryan proceeded to mock April, telling her she didn’t have a snowball’s chance at the top marks award let alone passing first semester, but only until I whipped a fireball at his head. The look of scandal he gave me after it exploded over his frosted tips in a shower of sparks was especially satisfying. Then he called me swamp princess, and I called him an imbecile. He called me bacteria, and I called him a bat-faced arse-goblin. He called me a waste of space, and I called him a vermin-infested trash bin, and so on and so forth until April told us both to grow up. But the headmaster didn’t need to know all of that extraneous detail.
After that, what had started at the bottom of the hill, somehow went further downhill.
I began to wear tracks in the headmaster’s carpet. “When I asked her to detonate in her right wrist, a flashbulb pop from somewhere in the vicinity of the left side of her head almost blinded me. When I asked her to throw a small fireball, she hiccupped a cloud of smoke that smelled like last night’s pizza, only burnt.”
Basil gestured to the sofa. “Would you like to—”
“You don’t even want to know what happened when I asked her to isolate the fire in the region of her belly button.”
“Have a seat, Ms. Cagney.”
At his formal command, I dropped into the nearest chair.
“I understand you’re frustrated but don’t forget the reason I asked you to tutor Ms. Brown in the first place. It’s for the benefit of both of you, not just her. Don’t lose sight of that.”
I scowled. “Does the fact that I wanted to strangle her and then throw her out a window mean I’m failing?”
His mouth twitched. “I daresay.”
I
gave a groan and slouched, letting my chin drop onto my chest and my arms dangle at my sides in a gesture of surrender.
The headmaster chuckled. “It’s a better partnership than I even hoped for. You’re going to have to find your patience and your empathy, Saxony. I know you don’t believe so, but this task is more important than any of the other skills you’ll be learning here.”
I lifted my face. “You’re right, I don’t believe it. Do you really think I’m in danger of becoming a sociopath?”
Basil considered me for a moment then got out of his chair and went to a bookcase near the window. Running his fingers through a vertical stack of what looked like movie scripts, he pulled out the one at the bottom and scanned the title. Bringing it back, he held it out.
“Why don’t you read this and then you tell me?”
I took the pages held together by a brass paper fastener and read the title aloud. “The Curious Case of Nero Palumbo, by Vis. Basil Chaplin.” I looked up. “Who is Nero Palumbo?”
“Someone you don’t ever want to meet. Now run along, Ms. Cagney. I trust a flip through those pages will be all the encouragement you need.”
I opened my mouth to ask more questions but he waved me away with a hand as he returned to his desk. Tucking the report under my arm, I left his office. When I arrived back at my room I tossed the document on top of my desk and flopped onto my bed with a long sigh.
Seventeen
Molten Lessons
As the weeks ticked by, I grew accustomed to my combat classes always being held in a dojo in the CTH and my skills class always being held in the fire-gym, so one morning I came to a skidding halt inside the gym doors, realizing a dreadful mistake had been made.
At least a dozen students, most I recognized as second-years, rotated through an obstacle course which included all of the climbing wall panels as well as several other new constructions. Brightly colored water bottles dotted the place like party decorations; a sign of magi hard at work. If I hadn’t had the sudden realization that I was in the wrong place, I would have enjoyed watching the spectacle.
