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The Broken Academy 2 : Power of Magic

Page 8

by Jade Alters


  “Sealbreaker fans!” the announcer thunders out over the field, “We’ve come today to witness the clash of force and wills between two determined teams. Silver Spark!” The announcer takes a laborious breath to let the audience scream for us all over again. I can’t help a glance over at Rock and his team. He catches my eyes, even from the edge of the field, and gives me the hint of a nod. When the crowd quiet down, the announcer calls out, “Fiends and Fangs!” Another explosion of screams. “For those of you attending your first Sealbreaker game, allow me to remind you never to lean over the edge of the bleachers after…now!”

  At the sound of his last word, a beam of yellow-white light fires up from the ground at the center of the field. Like a fountain, the light domes out from the top of the beam, to enclose the Rec Field in an eggshell veil. The second it touches down on the edges of the ground around us, I feel something leave me. A part of me that’s been company as long as I can remember. My tricks. I still feel the sunlight on me, but only as heat. I can’t sense the waves and particles. I can’t imagine how to twist it around, to conjure illusions or anything. But anyone who knows the first thing about this game knows it hasn’t really left me, just been suppressed.

  “The field is now enclosed by a Magnetic Energy Disruption Field, or MED-F! This cuts off our participants from any access to their abilities,” the announcer explains for newcomers, “until…they claim a Sealbreaker pin, that is! So keep your distance and keep your powers, folks. Enjoy the game! Starting…” the announcer trails off as an enormous three emblazons itself across the floating scoreboard. I focus my sights on the Runners across the divide of our teams. Two, the scoreboard tolls. I take note of the closest pins to Camilla’s feet. One… “Now!” the announcer screams. A previously invisible wall between our team and Fiends and Fangs lights up, then dissolves. Twelve bodies shoot off for their designated roles.

  Even without her Vampire speed, Camilla is a formidable sprinter. I kick up dirt sprinting in her wake. I crouch at the same time she does, to catch the pin she’s practiced throwing a hundred times. Before she can, though, one of my rival Disruptors gets to her. He slides low to kick the pin away from her, then leaps up and shoves her back in one swift move. I stand up straight to catch Camilla’s cold shoulders with my chest. I give her a nudge to straighten up. She shoots off for the next nearest pin. The bulky Disruptor from Fiends and Fangs lumbers after her. My play is supposed to be tailing Camilla until she tosses me a pin, but I shoot to the ground instead. I snatch the pin she and the other Distruptor had brawled over from between my feet. At the touch of it, I feel it surge back through my bones and blood. The knowledge. The power. My tricks. I start counting backward from two minutes in my head, while my hand flings out at the pesky Disruptor instinctively. In his pursuit of Camilla, he stumbles headfirst into the void portal I opened under him. I close it behind him, reducing the Fiends and Fangs’ ranks to five.

  With the opening I’ve given her, Camilla makes it to a pin of her own. She clutches it in a fist as two fangs protrude from the top and bottom rows of her teeth respectively. The next I see of her is a gust of wind parting the grass. She’s gone, zipping from one pin to the next. She drops one off with Serge and another with Cece. The latter encases herself in scales almost instantly. She digs not feet, but talons into the soil and heaves our Goalstone forward with the full might of a Dragon. Then, over my head, an eagle shoots by. I trace it back towards our Goalstone, where the bird elongates, sheds its feathers and becomes a thirty-foot snake. My first instinct is to rush back, to help Cece as she struggles to pinpoint the slithering beast with fireballs from her throat. Then I see a blur zip past me, and it’s not Camilla. It’s one of the other team’s Runners, with a fistful of Sealbreaker pins. Shit, I realize, how long have I been standing here? I look out on a field of horrors - a game turned to a war ground with both teams fully activated. So many active pieces in play…how does anyone decide what the fuck to do? Runners, right, I remember my brother’s words. I reach a hand out to the enemy Vampire, only to have it knocked away by something that feels like a club made of rocks.

  A Demon! Damnit! I try to counter with the same hand the other Fiends and Fangs Disruptor struck, only to find my fingers inoperable. A black spot of corruption crackles across my arm. I try a snap of my other fingers, only to be astonished by something I had no idea Demons could do. The bastard catches my trick, right in the air. He closes his hands halfway around a little cluster of light that I meant to be a portal, like a handful of fireflies. When the trick backfires in his hand, it blasts him back, but also unleashes the first Disruptor I’d hurled into the void! The Fiends and Fangs Vampire zips by to drop off a pin for the bulky Disruptor, then vanishes. Now I face both of them, alone, with one arm down. I plant a terrified foot to put up an illusory wall with my functioning hand when, suddenly, I forget how. I look down to my Sealbreaker pin, which crumbles to dust between my fingers. Time’s up.

  “Hey!” Serge’s voice precedes his leap in front of me. He throws both hands out in front of him, which erect a wall of light much like the one I planned to make. Demonic corruption slams into it while the enemy Disruptor, a Warlock, freezes it solid with a chill wind from both palms. Serge holds them both at bay while he turns to scream at me through a grimace. “I can’t do both our jobs! Get to Dyne! She can get that corruption off your arm! Then get back here!” With visible pain, Serge folds the shimmering walls of his half-frozen, half-corrupted barrier around his foes, enclosing them. I bolt off, past Cece dueling with the enemy Striker, who’s now shifted into a rhinoceros. Our Goalstone is about halfway to the chute, which is more than I can say for Fiends and Fangs, at least. My arm dangles limp beside me as I dash.

  “Watch out!” Rose screams right beside me, though I can see her on the other end of the field, gathering pins. Her Astral body bursts into shimmering blue life right before me, independent of her physical form. I feel her Astral hand as a touch of ice as she shoves me down, below the thorny whip of the other team’s Cavalier. Their counterpart to Cece is a Fey, lugging their Goalstone behind her by viney ropes. One of her thorn whips rips by over my head and splits Rose’s Astral body into two segments of dissipating smoke. Before I can even get to my feet, Camilla zips to my side.

  “Take this and make yourself useful, would you?” she bites, and drops a Sealbreaker pin in my hand. My tricks surge back through me. I snap a hand up at the enemy Cavalier to erect an unfolding barrier of mirrors. The Fey glances left and right to peer a way around, but the barrier grows faster even than she can shatter its pieces with her thorn whips. I feel Camilla’s hand tighten around me. “Let’s get that shit off you,” she says. Next thing I know, I shoot across the field along with her, like a lightning bolt of color, to the side of our Striker, Dyne. She’s hard at work corrupting the ground under the enemy Goalstone, to make it impossible to drag.

  “Been touched, eh?” Dyne asks when she sees my arm. She lays her own hand on me. I watch in disoriented horror as the corruption inches up from my skin, into hers. The very next second, Camilla and I shoot off again, to the other side of the field. She drops me off beside Serge, who’s beading sweat keeping his light prison around the enemy Disruptors.

  “Help your damn brother,” Camilla says, and zips off to collect more pins. Once the spike of vomit recedes back down my throat, I put up both hands to match Serge’s. He clasps one of my hands in his own to focus the strength of our tricks together.

  With both of our focus combined, the two of us, the youngest of the Dalshak children, perform a trick only done before by the previous Magister, Horace himself. Father’s trademark Column of Light. We finish the rest of Serge’s cylinder around the Disruptors, and form the lid of it. With the intensity of our powers combined, the pillar shines too bright to see through. Both of us shove our hands down and press them to the grass. The blazing Column shoots straight down, through the ground, past the prep rooms under the Field, and lodges deep in the foundations of the Academy. All that�
��s left of the Fiends and Fangs Disruptors is a pit too deep to see the bottom of.

  Serge and I help one another up, and turn our attention to the Runners next. The rest of the game flies by in a sort of blur. Cece ferries our Goalstone to the designated chute time after time. Dyne lets Fiends and Fangs past, into their chute, only twice. Our score dials up to eight, with the enemy Disruptors disabled for the remainder of the match. When all is said and done at the end of twenty minutes, we’re exhausted, but victorious. Even as the announcer trumpets:

  “And the winners, by a landslide, are Silver Spark!” Serge grabs both of my shoulders and shakes me hard. From far away, it looks like congratulations. Only I see the rage in his face. Only I can hear the frustration in his tone.

  “Do not let what happened today happen again!” Serge shouts over the applause and cheers. “You need to pull your weight on the team or get off! I can’t afford to do the job of two Disruptors every time!”

  “What are you talking about?” I shout back. I’m too tired to remember something so suddenly trivial as composure. Hell if I’m not defending myself. “Without me, you never could have pulled off the Pillar of Light! That won us the game!”

  “Yeah, and it’s also going to put both of us out of practice for a week! You know that trick was well over both of our heads. If you had just stuck to your role and paid attention, we wouldn’t have had to resort to something so damn drastic!” Serge roars back. I open my mouth to retort, but he storms off. It hurts to know he’s right. I want to fall asleep right there on the field after that trick. He clasps hands of congratulation to the shoulders of the others, where he only jostled mine. It puts a sour taste in my mouth I haven’t sampled before.

  Jealousy.

  Rock,

  The Broken Academy, Rec Field

  “What the hell are you doing?” I laugh down at Emery. There’s going to be a permanent imprint of her in the grass, if she ever gets up. After her first match, she leaned into the bleachers until everyone cleared out. I was pretty sure that was the last I’d see of her, at least for the day. But the Rec Field was on my way back to my room, so I cut through. Imagine my surprise when I see her sinking into the dirt beside the boundless hole her and her brother’s ridiculous trick created. It took a few professors thirty minutes to extract the Fiends and Fangs Disruptors from the bottom of it.

  “I think…I’m wallowing,” Emery mutters.

  “Wallowing in what? Were you playing in the same match I watched? You trapped two guys in a tower of light and threw them almost completely through the Academy,” I chuckle.

  “Yeah, and according to my brother, it was the wrong move,” Emery says, half-closed eyes fixed up at the emerging stars above our floating school.

  “And according to you?” I prompt her. To say self-pity is an odd look on Emery mistreats the word odd. She looks like a child who failed her first test. It has a sort of gravity to it, though. I find myself on the ground beside her before I realize what I’m doing.

  “I…I guess he’s right. I mean, look at me. I’m too tired to walk back to my room. That trick…took a lot out of me,” Emery admits.

  “You know, Emery. You almost sounded human, just then,” I kid her. I turn a little smirk down at her. At first she looks offended, but she’s too tired even to hold on to that for too long. She drops her head back in the grass and laughs it off.

  “Fuck you, Rock,” she says. My eyes widen, along with hers. Then we both crack up at the surprise.

  “That’s it, see, you’re getting the hang of it, I guess. Being a person,” I laugh harder. When the last chuckles roll out to quiet, I add, “You know…Sealbreaker is a complicated thing. It’s a lot of finesse, not just knowledge. You’ve got to know when to do what, and how much, in eight different ways at once.”

  “Sounds like a very learnable skill,” Emery puffs some hair from her face, listless.

  “It is…with a good teacher,” I dare. There’s something about seeing her out on this thin, trembling limb. It makes me inch out on one of my own.

  “Is that an offer?” Emery asks.

  “Maybe. But Sealbreaker teachers and students have to be compatible. Why don’t we start by you letting me walk you to your room. We’ll see how it goes from there?” I prompt. Emery lifts a weak arm for the sky without a word. I can hardly believe it, but I take it and hoist it up over my shoulder. I support Emery’s limp frame with my side. The two of us limp off towards the B-Wing dorms. No, this isn’t the little girl with the puzzles I remember…but for some reason, I can’t shake the curiosity. Who is she now?

  “So…is there some kind of pupil questionnaire?” Emery actually tries something like teasing. Big mistake, for her. There’s something I have leagues more experience than her with.

  “Actually, there is,” I smirk, eyes straight ahead. “How close would you say you are to admitting that you’re actually a robot in disguise?”

  “Shut…up…” Emery struggles to get out through painful heaves of laughter. I chalk it up to fatigue, at least for now.

  Evaluations

  Emery,

  The Broken Academy, Rec Field

  After Rock surprised me with his offer to practice Sealbreaker, the next question that came to mind was when. We both need our free afternoons, me for extracurricular espionage Rock doesn’t need to know about, and him for Sealbreaker practice with his own team. Neither of us can deny that he couldn’t afford to be seen with me during the day, either. Not if he didn’t want a mutiny on his hands. That left only one time. One preferable for neither or us, yet ideal for both of us.

  I dial back my alarm time an additional three hours to account for dressing and showering before class. I snap over on my side at the first tone of it, to eliminate the temptation to snooze it into oblivion. I slip out of our room well before the first crack of light splits the sky. I drag myself straight to the Rec Field.

  There is something undeniably mystical about the Field so early in the morning. The grass mushes under my shoes, rife with dew from heat settling in the night. A cool breeze ruffles it all around me in waves. The effect is what I imagine a flea must see, when their host decides to run a comb through their hair. Neither the moon nor the sun is in the sky, yet it’s tinged with the light bouncing back and forth between both. It glows a slate shade of blue just lighter than navy. Just the hint that day is on its way. It’s just bright enough for me to spot Rock waiting for me, across the field, without the overhead lights. That’s good. We’ll be lucky if no one comes to check on the commotion that’s about to start, even in the dark.

  “The trick is on?” Rock murmurs as soon as I’m within range.

  “It’s on my room at least,” I tease him. Of course I made sure to cast my trick on both our rooms before I came here. He should know better than to ask such questions. The last thing I need right now is my alerted Wing Supervisor wondering why I’m up before classes, wandering the halls and fields of the Academy.

  “That’s alright,” Rock waves me off with an infuriating lack of concern. “Yuma’s got a huge crush on me. I’m pretty sure I could swing an excuse for the early outing.”

  “Of course she does,” I chuckle.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Rock laughs quietly along with me. I shrug as I circle him, inspecting him like a cut of meat to prove my point.

  “Look at you, Rock. You’re tall. You’ve got the muscle of three men and the strength to back it up…a Chief’s title. I’ll bet there’s less girls in B-Wing who don’t have a crush on you,” I tell him. Rock turns to keep his eyes trained on me. One of his eyebrows springs up in curiosity. It’s my tone. I’ve listed all his greatest qualities, in the eyes of his peers, without any of their wonder. To me, it’s just a mask. Just like the one I wear. Layer upon layer of bullshit to win the approval of others because, whether or not we like it, those with responsibility understand that approval is power.

  “Well. Sounds like you’ve got me all figured out, Emery,” Rock mocks me. I ca
n’t tell if it’s because I was off-base, or right on it. “All the more reason you should be honored that, with all the women at my fingertips, I’ve chosen to spend my early mornings here with you.” I can tell he’s joking, at least in part. Below the surface, though, I sense the slightest note of hurt.

  “I guess I should,” I say. I stop my circling to give him an authentic smile, if my face really even knows how to make one. I’d never admit out loud how often I’ve practiced it in the mirror. This term at the Academy is the first time in my career as my parents’ chess piece that I’ve needed it. The confusion on Rock’s face tells me I need to work on it some more. I give up on the act and try instead to just tell him what I want him to know. “Thank you, Rock.”

  “Ye-ye-yeah, no problem,” he coughs back. Maybe I’m better at this than I thought. Or just maybe I’m not cut out for this sort of spycraft at all - am I just in character for feeling something? I shove it all back down behind my smiling mask for now. There will be plenty of time later to wrestle with the psychological pitfalls of playing double-agent. Rock takes a deep breath and clears his throat. “Alright. If you’re done psychoanalyzing…ready to practice?”

 

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