by John Corwin
Her optimistic tone melted the knot of sorrow and anger twisting in my guts—a knot caused by simply thinking about Victus.
"Truer words have never been spoken." Max flicked his gaze to Ambria. "Though some friends certainly test my limits."
Ambria stuck out her tongue.
Max, Ambria, and I left to attend our daily arcnology session with my odd cousin, Ansel Moore. Shushiel remained behind to continue her job of shuttling documents back and forth across campus for Galfandor. Few students attended summer semester, but with the fall semester right around the corner, more returned to campus every day.
I polished the arcwand Ansel had given me as we walked toward the broom closet to retrieve our brooms. The aether battery and magical processing unit inside allowed me to store complex spells and retrieve them on command. I tried not to rely on such a crutch, but kept it on my person just in case I encountered one of Victus's minions.
We boarded our brooms outside the main atrium and flew over the trees. The valley opened up below, the city of Queens Gate nestled in the middle. Cottony puffs dotted the green lands below, sheep and goats on the farms at the outskirts of town. As the towering spires of Arcane University fell behind us, the chromatic, organically curved buildings of Science Academy came into view.
Academy students on the moving walkways below looked up at us with suspicion or gawked with outright confusion. Rocket sticks and robots were the norm on this campus, not broomsticks and wands.
A shiny chrome flying saucer with a blacked-out glass dome paced us. The glass slid back to reveal a girl wearing a pair of bronze goggles and an old-school aviator helmet. She laughed. "Aren't you on the wrong campus, magicians?"
Ambria shot an angry glare back. "We're Arcanes, not magicians!"
The girl laughed again and jetted forward, her UFO leaving behind rings of vapor.
"I hate science students," Max said. "They think they're so much better than us."
"Well, we are better." Ambria guided her broom through a loop of dissipating vapor. "If it would do any good, I'd outrun her on my broom just to prove it."
We passed by the main lab buildings. Electricity arced between the towering Tesla coils of Tesla Labs. A bulbous building with a narrow base—a light bulb—represented Edison Labs and a twisting DNA ladder stood for Curie Labs. My mind drifted back to the first time Esma Emoora had brought me here.
Oh, how I'd admired her and looked up to her as a mother figure. It turned out she was actually my biological mother, Delectra Moore, in disguise. Twisted by abuse and demonic possession, my mother had been a tortured soul. Our brief time together had rescued her from the darkness my evil father had instilled in her. I only wished she could have lived longer instead of dying by his hand.
Why did you kill her, you bastard? My hands trembled, a vision of Delectra's final moments flickering through my mind's eye. Victus, running away like the coward he was. I hated living in fear of the man. I almost wished he would try something. I'd rather die fighting than by a spell in the back.
Ambria drifted closer to me and patted my hand. "Don't be sad, Conrad."
I swallowed hard. "I'm trying."
"Every time we come by here, you get that same look on your face." Her forehead pinched with concern. "Don't bottle up the anger. It just makes it worse."
"I'm not angry." The broom's saddle horn cut into my palms, my grip too tight. "I'm frustrated. I want justice."
"Ansel taught us some good defensive spells over the past month," Max said. "Maybe he can help us with some offensive ones too."
"I don't like Ansel even a little bit." Ambria took back her hand and shuddered. "He's rude and acts like a know-it-all."
"He certainly knows a lot more than us." Max steered down toward a mundane building of gray stone and rectangular dimensions. "I don't mind learning with the arcnology tutorials we found in Moore's vault, but having a live teacher is easier."
We'd found a number of helpful videos from famed Arcnologist, Adam Nosti, inside Ezzek Moore's secret vault, but the more advanced areas of arcnology stumped us and sent us back to Ansel for answers. He was all too happy to rub our ignorance in our faces and put us through a number of meaningless tests before agreeing to tutor us.
Ansel might be family, but I didn't think I could ever be close to the man. It seemed he barely tolerated me or anyone else except the stream of random women he carried on with. It seemed I was doomed to dislike my living relatives. I might have actually loved the woman my mother was before Victus corrupted her with demon magic.
The three of us landed and headed inside the building with the plain placard above the door that read, Arcnology Labs. I opened the door and promptly collided with a man just on the other side. I bounced back and landed on my rump. He looked down at me with cool, expressionless eyes. A shiver of ice ran up my spine.
"I-I'm sorry, sir." I pushed myself up. "I didn't see you."
The thin man wore dark slacks and an expensive shirt, a strange ensemble for this campus. He merely gave me an annoyed look and skirted past, nearly bowling over Ambria and Max just behind me.
"How rude!" Ambria grabbed Max for support. "Don't they teach manners over here?"
"Who was that?" I asked, not really expecting an answer. "I've never seen him here before."
Max rubbed the gooseflesh on his bare arm. "I don't know about you, but he gave me the creeps."
Ambria narrowed her eyes. "There is something strange about him."
I watched the man step onto a moving walkway and shook my head. "It's not like he tried to kill us. Maybe he's an administrator." I motioned the others inside. "Let's get to Ansel before we're late."
"Heaven forbid." Ambria picked up her broom off the ground and stomped inside. "That man can certainly throw a fit."
We walked down the hallway and entered the last door on the right. Ansel sat on a stool, his profile to us. A blank whiteboard seemed to have captured his attention.
"Ansel?" I said.
His lips moved, but whatever he said was too faint to hear.
I stepped closer. "Ansel, we're here for our lesson."
His mouth continued to move, face otherwise locked in a catatonic stare at the blank board.
Though my cousin was odd, this seemed strange even by his standards. My heart beat a little faster. I stepped directly in front of him. "Ansel?"
"Dark, so dark. So many undead. Why, why, why? What did you do to me, witch?" Ansel repeated his words over and over, barely taking time to breathe between sentences. Purple stained his lips and his breath smelled pungent.
"Who did what to you?" I stepped closer, daring to reach out a hand and shake his shoulder.
Ansel flinched and leapt up. The stool toppled, clattered on the floor. "That witch!" He grabbed my shoulders. "She put it in my head! I can't get it out!"
I tried to pull away, but his grip was maniacally strong. "Who?"
He bared stained purple teeth. "Your mother!" Ansel raced to the whiteboard and began frantically drawing on it. "Dark, so dark!" He drew a circle filled with crooked rectangles. "So many undead."
"I don't understand," Ambria said. "What are you drawing?"
Max picked up a nearly empty glass vial from Ansel's desk and swished the purple liquid inside. "I think your cousin is high, Conrad."
Ansel grabbed me again. "No, no, no. Mind clearing. Open the mind."
"Open your mind to what?" I said.
"The nightmares." His eyes lost focus, arms dropped to his sides. "It worked until—" His eyes widened. "Something tore me inside." Ansel gripped his chest. "Hurts so bad."
"We need to get him to a medical facility," Ambria said. "Your cousin is as high as a kite!"
Max sniffed the purple concoction and wrinkled his nose. "Smells like lavender."
I took Ansel by the arm, but he shook me off. "Dark, so dark!" He turned on me and blinked as if waking from a dream. "She left you a message too. You have to find them." Fear lit his eyes. "My soul is torn. I can feel
the shards."
Even though I didn't personally like Ansel, my heart wrenched at his distress.
His mutterings grew incomprehensible and try as I might, I couldn't snap him out of it again.
Ambria stepped into the hallway to find someone to help. She returned moments later with a tall thin man in a red uniform. His gaunt cheeks and short brown hair gave him a familiar look, though I couldn't quite place where I'd seen him before.
"What's the problem?" He saw Ansel gibbering in the corner and grunted as if the question just answered itself.
"I think he drank this." Max held up the vial with the lavender contents.
The man took it, sniffed it, grunted. "It's a clarity potion. Students use them all the time to help study."
"Do they react like this?" Ambria said.
The man opened a pouch on his belt and took out a strip of yellow paper. He dipped it into the potion and held it up to the light. The purple liquid turned brown. He frowned and sniffed the liquid. "Something is off about this potion, but I don't have the equipment to analyze it."
Ambria gave him an incredulous look. "Aren't you a medic?"
"Yes, a science medic, not an Arcane healer." He found a cork and stoppered the vial. "My brother might be able to help you."
"Well, bring him here," Ambria said.
"He loathes coming here," the medic said. "Better we take the poor lad to him." He took Ansel by his bicep and guided him toward the door. "Come now, lad. I have a sky sled just outside."
"Dark," Ansel murmured. "Undead. Broken souls."
"I hope he didn't try mixing a potion with recreational drugs," the man said.
The medic helped Ansel onto a silver sled hovering outside, and strapped him down tight. He looked at the brooms in our hands. "What brings Arcane students to Science Academy?"
"Arcnology lessons," Max said.
The medic offered another grunt. "I thought they frowned on such things there."
"There's no law against it." Ambria tilted her head. "Is there?"
The man stepped onto the sky sled and gripped the handlebars. "None that I know of." The sled rose above the trees and turned toward the valley. The medic twisted a handle and the sled took off across campus. The three of us hopped on our brooms and paced him.
We passed a gleaming tower with a white cross on the front of it and continued toward the cliff.
"Wasn't that the medical center?" Max said.
"Useless, as I said earlier." The medic nodded toward the spires of Arcane University across the valley. "My brother can help."
I realized whom he resembled. "Is your brother Percival?"
"You know him?"
Max chuckled. "Too well."
I grimaced. "Let's just say we're regular patients."
"I'm Arthur." The medic raised an eyebrow. "And you are?"
I pointed to myself and my friends. "Conrad, Max and Ambria."
"Delighted," he said in a bland tone.
"Why did you become a medic instead of an Arcane Healer?" Ambria asked.
Arthur pursed his lips as if he'd encountered a bad taste. "My Arcane talents are limited compared to his and our father is a doctor in a nom clinic. I decided to pursue a scientific medical career instead of one involving magic." He looked back at his cargo. "Unfortunately, its applications are limited not by science, but by oath."
"Oath?" Max dodged around a stray bird. "You mean you're not allowed to treat magical medical issues?"
"Except in case of extreme emergencies." Arthur directed the sled down toward the main gates of Arcane University. "I need to get a ward pass from the gate guard."
"Dark!" Ansel screamed. "Broken souls!"
Ambria shrieked and nearly fell off her broom.
Foam flecked Ansels lips and a terrible scream erupted from his throat. In that moment, I felt certain my cousin was about to die.
Chapter 3
"Medical emergency," Arthur told the guard.
The guard backed far away from the stricken patient. "Is he contagious?"
"No, poisoned."
The guard scanned them with a spell and then marked them as safe so the wards would let them through. "Get on with it then."
"Thank you." Arthur directed his sled into the main building. We drifted alongside on our brooms, ever watchful of professors since they frowned on indoor broom flying.
Percival's eyes widened with joy when we entered the healing ward ahead of Arthur. "Is one of you injured already?" He got up and walked around to meet us. "Did anyone lose a limb, perchance? I fashioned a potion that shows great promise in reattachment."
Ambria grimaced and backed away. "No, we have another problem."
Arthur entered the door pushing Ansel on a smaller floating gurney. "Good day, Percival."
"Arthur!" the healer clapped his hands together. "It's been months since you brought me anyone."
"I do so try." Arthur pushed the gurney into the back and he and his brother slid Ansel onto a bed. "This one seems to be suffering from a spiked clarity potion."
"Oh." Percival's grin flattened. "Well, that's easy enough to treat."
Max rolled his eyes. "Not challenging enough?"
Percival rummaged around on his workbench, sorting through jars filled with dubious ingredients until he found a small one filled a quarter of the way up with what appeared to be dirt. "Without challenge, how are we to advance?" He unscrewed the lid and took a pinch. "Do you believe stagnation in magical research is acceptable?"
"I think avoiding serious injuries is better than being your guinea pig," Max shot back.
Percival motioned toward Ambria. "Hold open his mouth."
She backed away. "Why me?"
Arthur gently squeezed Ansel's jaw and pried open his mouth.
"Children these days." Percival huffed and dropped the pinch into his patient's mouth.
Arthur closed Ansel's mouth and rubbed his Adam's apple until the man swallowed. Ansel's eyes shot wide. A tortured scream ripped from his throat and his entire body convulsed.
"Hold him still!" Percival shouted and we each took hold of a flailing limb.
Ambria cried out as my cousin's hand smacked her in the face. Max held onto a bucking leg, face red with exertion.
"What in the world did you give him?" I asked.
"Powered newt's eye and ghost pepper extract, of course." Percival stared at us as if we were complete fools. "It purges most poisonous effects within minutes."
"Ghost pepper?" Max lost his grip and fell on his backside. "Are you mental?"
"Poor man," Ambria said. "His mouth must feel like an inferno!"
Ansel's convulsions calmed after a few minutes whereupon his head lolled to the side and foaming spittle dripped from the corner of his mouth.
"How awful." Ambria averted her eyes. "I think you killed him, Percival."
A dagger of ice slid into my heart. "Is he dead?"
"Oh, don't get melodramatic on me." The healer peeled back Ansel's eyelid and shined a light from the tip of his wand. The dilated pupils remained fixed. He frowned. "Are you certain a spiked clarity is the only thing ailing this man, Arthur?"
His brother shrugged. "Nothing showed up on my medical scanner, so I assumed it was all magical."
Percival pursed his lips and strolled to a nearby shelf. He leafed through several parchments until a grunt told us he'd found the right one. He unrolled it on a table and pinned down the corners with smoothed pebbles. He read the text and examined the diagram of a human body, looking back and forth between it and his patient several times before making a thoughtful sound and shaking his head. "This is not poisoning. This man took a clarity potion, but whatever happened to him has nothing to do with it."
"Well, what's wrong then?" Ambria said.
"Probably ghost pepper poisoning at this point," Max said with a pointed look at the healer. "That's going to burn like an inferno when it comes out the other end."
I shot Max a grimace. "Is that really at the top of your mind ri
ght now?"
"I just don't want Percival shoving ghost pepper down my throat the next time I end up in here."
"Momentary pain is a fair tradeoff for prolonged nausea and vomiting, young man." Percival pinched and prodded Ansel but failed to elicit much more than a groan. He muttered an incantation and ran his spell from Ansel's head to his toes. "I believe the diagnosis is more severe than poisoning."
Ambria peered over at the parchment. "Which is?"
The healer rested his chin on a hand. "I don't know yet. I need time." He rolled up the parchment and tucked it back on the shelf. "Where to start?"
"Wish I could be of help, but I need to get back to the academy," Arthur said.
"Yes, yes, of course." Percival gave his brother a curt nod. "I will notify you of my progress."
Arthur nodded at the rest of us and left.
"Did your scan spell reveal anything?" Ambria asked.
"Oh, yes." Percival's forehead pinched seriously. "This man is quite sick."
Max clapped slowly. "You're truly a genius, Percival."
Percival's gaze shot daggers at my friend. "My scan revealed no obvious underlying cause to his symptoms."
"Perhaps it's demonic possession," Ambria said.
"My scan would have revealed a demonic presence." Percival shook his head. "This is quite the mystery." A smile spread across his lips. "Perhaps you've brought me a worthy challenge after all."
"Not exactly what we aimed for," I said. "Ansel was tutoring us in arcnology and we'd like to have him back."
"And he's Conrad's only living cousin." Ambria looked at me uneasily. "That we know of."
Percival's smiled faded. "I will get to the bottom of this and return him to full working order." He made a shooing motion with his hands. "Now, if you'll kindly leave, I can get to work."
I hesitated. "Please don't fail him, Percival. I can't lose another relative."
The healer nodded somberly. "I will do my best, boy. Now go."
I hoped his best was good enough. Ansel is mean, but tolerable. I'd prefer to have him around.
We'd barely stepped into the hallway when Max's stomach grumbled loudly and announced our next destination.
Ambria raised an eyebrow. "Lunch time already, Max? It's not even noon."
