Firecracker: A Young Adult Fantasy (Arcturus Academy Book 1)

by A. L. Knorr

  Surprise and disappointment jarred the humor out of me. She hadn’t even made it a foot off the ground. I took a breath and did my best to keep displeasure out of my voice. “Try again.”

  April nodded and tucked loose strands of hair behind her ears.

  Fifteen minutes and a baker’s dozen of attempts later and April had still not gotten any higher. My patience was fraying like century-old rope. In spite of my calm instruction, it was like understanding just refused to penetrate her brain, like it was impossible for her to think and move at the same time. I began to wonder if it was willful. How could anyone be this bad at managing their fire?

  “Why don’t we call it quits for today, April?” I suggested, holding my hands behind my back so she couldn’t see my knuckles turning white as I clenched my fists.

  “Not yet. Please? Why don’t we just try something else?” She gestured to the floor mats where magi trained in combat. “Detonation?”

  I took a breath through my nose and nodded. Leading April over to the mat, I thought about what might be the easiest place for her to start. “A simple two-legged jump,” I suggested, thinking it would be pretty tough to get that wrong.

  I indicated a line on the floor and had her toe up to it. She squatted and then leapt forward without the fire three times while I marked each landing, giving us a base to measure her improvement from.

  “Now, add the fire, detonating internally if you can. Remember not just to detonate in the hips. Don’t neglect your knees, and ankles.”

  She nodded, her tongue poking out the side of her mouth in concentration. Squatting at the line, she took a few practice bounces and then took a big leap forward. A flash went off and she kind of spasmed in mid-air like someone had impaled her with a javelin, then landed short of all three of her previous jumps. Her legs recoiled so deeply that her chin clipped her knees and I heard her teeth clack together. She kind of flopped over on her side with an, “Ow.”

  “Are you okay?” I was alarmed, almost as much about her teeth as by just how awry such a simple leap could go.

  Nodding, she got to her feet and rubbed her jaw. “I think I’ve got the hang of it, now. I know what I did wrong.”

  “Yes, you detonated in mid-air.”

  She blinked at me. “Did I?”

  I blinked back at her in wonder, thinking she was joking, but her expression was sincere. “What do you think happened?”

  “I executed in the wrong order. It’s supposed to be hips, knees, ankles and I did ankles, knees, hips.”

  I shook my head as irritation prickled along my spine. “No, April. When doing a two-legged jump, all the detonations happen simultaneously. And you didn’t do any sequence at all. The flash tells me that you detonated in your torso after you’d left the ground.”

  “Oh.” But she looked doubtful, as though she still thought she was right.

  “Try again.”

  She did try again. And she failed again. She failed sixteen more times before I suggested that was enough for the night. I wondered if smoke might actually be curling from my ears.

  “Last one?” she begged, her eyes big and watery. “Please?”

  I let out a long sigh and nodded, rubbing my temples to stave off a growing headache. I stood at the line to the left of her. “Last one.”

  Squatting at the line, her brows knit together in concentration. As she sprang from the ground, a flash went off in the right side of her body. I gave a little scream of shock as she plowed sideways into me with her shoulder. Her head slammed into my chin as we went tumbling backward. A sharp pain burst through my tongue as I bit down hard. Blood filled my mouth as she landed on top of me, forcing air violently from my lungs. Droplets of blood and saliva sprayed onto the side of April’s face and hair.

  She rolled off me, rubbing a hand along her wet cheek and looking at it. When she saw the blood, her eyes popped in horror. Any larger and they’d be bouncing on springs. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! What’s bleeding?”

  “My thong,” I said. My tongue was already swelling in my mouth and feeling like a big, swollen lump of stinging flesh.

  April scrambled to her feet and went around behind me. She put her hands in my armpits and tried to lift me up.

  I put a hand out to say ‘just give me a minute’. My mouth was filling up with hot, salty blood. I made a face and spat into my hand, wincing at the pain.

  April staggered back, made a gagging sound and then turned and dry heaved. Odd that she hadn’t started retching when she realized the entire side of her head had been sprayed.

  I crawled toward my backpack and fished out my water bottle. Holding a hand over my mouth, I ran for the girl’s washroom, a small room underneath one of the observation pods with a couple of toilets and sinks. Bursting through the door, I made it to a sink where I spat and rinsed repeatedly. While April dry heaved in one of the stalls, I leaned with my elbows on the basin, waiting for the bleeding to stop so I could see the wound better. When it had stemmed enough for me to speak, I said without looking at her: “Now can we call it a night?”

  I sounded like I had a mouthful of marshmallows, just like when I played Chubby Bunny around the campfire as a kid.

  In answer, April dry heaved again. I couldn’t see her, but I could imagine how her thin body bowed with the force of what kids back in Saltford High used to refer to as a ‘dragon yell’, the kind of experience that followed a night of too much drinking.

  Once she’d gotten a hold of herself, she came out of the stall and made her way over to the sink beside mine. After drinking some water, she cleaned her hair and washed her face as best she could. It was a good thing our fireproof clothes were mostly black or we’d look like we’d murdered someone. Both our uniforms had dark spots of my blood spattered across them. April’s hair had fallen partly out of her pigtails and curled around her head like a sweaty corona. Her face was the color of curdled milk.

  “I’m sorry, Saxony. I really didn’t mean to—”

  I nodded and waved her apology away. I was glad I could barely talk, it stopped me from cussing her out for her carelessness. I was also ticked that I had been caught off guard by her unexpected sideways leap. I’d had no time to mount a defense; catch her and stop us from hitting the ground. I had more than enough strength to do so, but I hadn’t seen the accident coming. I resolved to be more aware next time. My annoyance at how badly the session was going meant I was distracted and not paying proper attention. It was a lesson, and I was dispirited that I’d let it happen.

  “Can I get anything for you?” Her eyes were as huge and shiny as a cartoon kitten’s.

  I shook my head and gestured that she should go back to the girl’s wing without me.

  “Are you sure? I really don’t mind waiting.” She chewed at her lip, eyes on my mouth like she was hoping for a glimpse of my injury. Or maybe she wanted to watch me cauterize her handiwork.

  I was feeling far from generous and it was all I could do not to send a jet of fire at her. I settled for an icy glare.

  Reluctantly, she left me alone, looking as though someone had murdered her childhood pet. Honestly. I rolled my eyes as the door closed behind her. I was the one who’d been hurt, what right did she have to look like a kicked puppy?

  I looked at my tongue in the mirror. A line of purple dots down the side marked the places where my teeth had punctured. It was swollen and painful but at least it was no longer bleeding. Sending fire up my throat and into my tongue, the puncture wounds glowed momentarily like a runway in my mouth. They healed over and I released my fire back into my torso. The pain of the punctures was gone now, but my tongue still felt bruised and thicker than normal. I hoped it would be healed by breakfast.

  I was thankful that traffic in the corridors of the academy was quiet at this time in the evening. Our fellow students would be enjoying games and reading in the lounges. I didn’t want to have to talk to anyone. By the time I reached my room, I felt like I’d been used as a punching bag. Weariness filled not only
my body but my mind.

  Going through the motions of getting ready for bed was a ritual that calmed my frayed nerves, so I went slowly, savoring the feeling of a long shower. I luxuriated in shampooing my hair and picked it slowly, letting the repetitive motion soothe me. Crawling between the covers, I took Basil’s report on Nero Palumbo with me. I had started it a few times but had always fallen asleep before getting too far.

  Flipping it open to the first page, I tried to read but the words only blurred together. The more I tried to focus, the more fuzzy the letters became. After dozing off and waking with the report laying over my face twice, I finally rolled over, dropped it on the floor and fell asleep.

  Twenty

  The Chalk Tombs

  “Knock, knock.” Tomio poked his head in my open door. “Gage and I are heading downtown to get dinner and maybe catch a movie afterwards. Want to join us?”

  Lifting my head from where I was splayed spread-eagled and exhausted on my bed, I gave him a weary smile. Normally just the mention of Gage’s name was enough to make me pant and nod my head, but it was Friday and it had been a very long week. Not only had I tutored April twice more since our Monday session, I was working on a complex history paper and a report for my Expository Reading and Writing class. My brain was bursting with competing data from my supernatural studies: melting points, atomic weights and numbers jostled for space next to novel analysis and significant dates of World War I. My skills sessions with Basil had been the most enjoyable parts of my week, but the whole cocktail had drained me.

  “Thanks, Tomio.” I tapped the textbook which lay open at my side amidst scattered highlighters, colored pens and a mess of cue cards. “I don’t think I can muster the will.”

  Leaning a shoulder on the door and crossing his arms, he frowned. “Come on, Cagney. Choose life. You never come out with us when we ask. When do you get to be a teenager? When do you play?”

  I lifted myself up to sitting, blowing a stray curl away from my face, smiling cheekily. “What do you mean? We play once a week in the CTH.”

  He rolled his eyes. “That’s work, it doesn’t count. It’s almost the end of October. The last time you chilled with us was when you taught us to play Snap that first weekend after school started. Seriously, I’m beginning to think your high-school correspondence courses are way harder than fire monkey school”

  “Fire monkey?” I laughed. “Who coined that term?”

  “That would be yours truly.” Gage poked his head in the doorway just above Tomio’s. The two of them made a handsome totem pole. Gage did a stage whisper: “Did you convince Queen Cagney to come out, or what?”

  I picked up my orange highlighter and threw it at their heads. “You know I hate that nickname.”

  The heads disappeared as the highlighter sailed by.

  Tomio reappeared. “Then suggest something more appropriate. Better yet, start hanging out with your subjects and maybe we’ll stop seeing you as stuck up royalty.”

  I made a face, wanting to ask if that’s really the way some kids saw me but not really wanting to know the answer.

  The boys strolled into my room like a couple of tomcats who owned the place. Gage headed for my bookshelf and Tomio began shifting the stuff on my desk around.

  “We all know you’d win top marks if you were allowed to do a full course load, we’re just deferring to the majesty of the queen out of anticipatory respect.” Tomio picked up the copy of Brave New World I was in the middle of reading and thumbed through it.

  “Quit rooting through my stuff.” I rolled off my bed and plucked a textbook out of Gage’s hands, enjoying the flare of heat between us as my fingers brushed his. He promptly grabbed a stack of papers off the top of my bookshelf, which included some mail, and began flipping through them.

  “Come out with us and we’ll stop snooping.” Gage’s eyes roved the return address on an envelope. “Ooh, who do you know in Poland?” He peered into my mail as if to see if maybe the author was hiding inside.

  Snatching my stuff out of his grasp, I slipped it between a couple of books and shoved the whole lot back onto my bookshelf. Steering Gage toward the door, I gave him a shove as I tried to hook Tomio with a gentle wrap-around kick at his waist. He caught my foot and lifted it up. My hamstring stretched, which actually felt good. I was a little sore.

  “Like he said.” Tomio gave me a smug smile, not giving any indication that he would let go of my foot any time soon, or lower it back down to a comfortable level. “Come with us, and we’ll stop harassing you.”

  “Or, I could roundhouse you to the head.” I gave a sweet smile to my martial arts coach. “Just like how you taught me.”

  He lifted my foot to his shoulder and hooked my heel there, nearly lifting my other foot off the ground.

  I squeaked in protest. I was gaining flexibility, but not so much that I could do the splits yet.

  “Fine,” I squealed. “I’m coming!”

  Tomio patted my calf and let my foot down. “Atta girl.”

  Gage looked behind my door and pulled down my rain-jacket, holding it out for me to get into. “You’ll need this. It’s raining the devil and pitchforks.”

  As I slipped my arms inside, Gage’s fingers grazed the skin of my neck, sending heat spiraling through my body. I looked over my shoulder and smiled as we made eye contact, acknowledging our bond in silence. Gage’s lashes cast a shadow on his cheek and his lips were soft and inviting. Butterflies whispered against my insides. If we’d been alone, I might have had the courage to pull him into a kiss.

  Tomio located my rubber ankle boots where they were poking from the open door of my wardrobe and toed them over to me, keeping his gaze on the floor. I hoped he didn’t notice the moment that had passed between Gage and me, I didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable.

  “You guys are so pushy,” I teased, saying the first thing that came to mind. But I hid a smile as I bent over to pull my boots on.

  It was nice to be wanted, and they were right. I was insulated from my peers because of my unique schedule. The only time I saw them was during weekends and the odd evening when I wasn’t tutoring. I saw Tomio when we sparred together, and ate with Gage at meals, but my hours were otherwise crammed and my evenings were spent tutoring or studying.

  At times, it bothered me that the others were getting to know each other so well while I was still mostly an outsider. I’d been told by April that many of my fellow students found me mysterious and intimidating. I liked the special status they’d allowed me, who didn’t like to be seen as enigmatic? But more often I wished I had become close with someone the way I was close with Georjie and Targa. It was nicer to be known.

  As Gage, Tomio and I headed up the driveway to catch the bus into Dover, fat droplets beating down upon our heads, I asked Tomio about his own combat classes. I was curious about how he was doing combining fire-power with his MMA; most of the other students were still learning the basics.

  Since September, Professor Knight had continued to teach me the basics in eight different forms of martial arts, with an emphasis on my favorite, Taekwondo. First-year students weren’t allowed to use fire in the combat hall, except for Tomio who’d been doing it since he was a kid.

  Alfred had explained that any physical skill a human could master could only be improved upon by adding fire, but that some level of mastery had to be in place before introducing fire-power, otherwise a mage would only hurt themselves and possibly others. At first this was disappointing but when I’d been left to my own devices and added fire-power to a crescent kick, I gave myself a mild sprain because I was thinking too hard about technique and neglected to detonate in the proper sequence. That was the last time I’d tried adding fire-power to combat techniques.

  The bus pulled up to the stop and we filed on board, Gage first, then me and Tomio.

  “Even’,” grunted the driver as he leaned forward to wipe a cloth across the inside of the windshield. Steam crept up the windows as the rain cooled the outside
of the glass. Our warm bodies were going to exacerbate the problem, but we’d only be on the bus for fifteen minutes.

  We made our way to the back, which was empty. Gage let me slide in to the back seat before sitting next to me while Tomio took the one just ahead of us. He propped his back against the window and hooked an elbow over the back of the seat so we could keep talking.

  “Even with my prior training,” Tomio resumed once the bus got moving, “Knight wouldn’t let me add flour until Winkler had tested me in skills.”

  “Excuse me?” I wondered if I needed to clean out my ears.

  Gage dimpled. “It’s the code we use while we’re out in public. Just in case.”

  “Ah. Okay.” The fact that I didn’t know this was a testament to how little I ventured away from the academy. “How has it been now that you’ve been allowed to train with… flour?”

  Tomio’s dark eyes sparkled. “Awesome. Alfred is even arranging for another chef to come in and work with me because he’s more of a gadgets guy himself. Arcturus doesn’t employ an expert in ethnic cuisine.”

  It took me a second to make the switch for proper terminology.

  “Maybe one day they’ll hire you,” I replied, my boots squeaking against the wet rubber flooring of the bus. “You could go from being a student to being a prof.”

  “That would be cool.” Tomio bobbed his head.

  “How about you?” I turned to Gage, gripping the seat as the bus took a corner a little too fast. His thigh and shoulder pressed against mine and he didn’t do much to prevent that, which was fine by me.

  “I didn’t sign up for cooking classes, not this semester.” Gage looked disappointed. “I told you that. Remember?”

  “Right.” I shook my head and my cheeks heated as I scrambled for an excuse. “Sorry, I forgot. I can barely keep my own classes straight.”