Curse of Blood and Shadow

by J. M. Kearl

  “I don’t do servant work,” Zyacus said like it was absurd for me to even suggest it. Typical of him.

  “Then have fun with your,” I looked his friends over, “minions.”

  I knew it would get a rise out of at least one of them, Skinny pushed out his chest and started toward me like he was going to do something. Taz moved closer to me and I rested my palm on the hilt of my sword.

  Hand flashing out, Zyacus snatched Skinny’s uniform and held him. I couldn’t help but notice the taut muscles on his arm as he constrained his friend. “We both know you’re scared of the thing that killed the horse, as you should be. It’s best you stay in your room where it’s safe, Princess.”

  This boy could get under my skin better than anyone I’d ever met. I clenched my teeth together, his mocking tone ruined the words that could have been interpreted as protective. He was really trying to goad me into breaking the rules. I knew it. I knew it and I still almost blurted out, “Fine, see you there,” but Bindy seemed to appear out of nowhere.

  “Prince Zyacus,” she said in a sickly sweet voice. “How are you? You’ll remember me I’m sure. Visteal’s attendant and protector.”

  His arrogant demeanor changed as fast as a burst of lightning. Flashing white teeth he said, “How could I forget? You made me the best chocolate cake I’ve ever had.”

  He came to Delhoon for his thirteenth birthday and the cake was delicious, I even remembered it.

  “Good, then you may also recall what happened when I caught you stealing wine. Don’t think I won’t punish you just the same for trying to put Visteal in danger.”

  I glared at her, how would she know what we had planned? I was also dying to know what she did to the prince as punishment.

  Zyacus grinned. “It was just a bit of fun, that’s all, and I would never intentionally put her in harm’s way. You have my word.”

  “I hope your word is good.” Bindy gave me a light tap on my arm. “Let’s get you and Taz to the dormitories. It’s almost curfew.”

  I locked eyes with Zyacus; the crystal-blue color could make anyone marvel but what I wanted to know was, could I believe him when he said he wouldn’t intentionally put me in harm’s way? Even if our parents stopped the wars and killing, our people, his and mine, were enemies for a thousand years before. It ran in our very blood. Perhaps that’s why deep down we distrusted one another and I wondered if we’d ever really be allies.

  Chapter 8

  I slipped into the classroom of Fifth Year Spells and slid into an empty black table in the middle. I was one of the first students to arrive thanks to Legacy waking me up early so she could talk about Aric and how much she already liked him. I heard every detail from his dreamy eyes, his muscular arms that she wanted to latch onto, to how funny and smart he was.

  My hair was braided intricately because of Legacy’s talents, and I even put on a little lip and cheek color. My cousin had mastered the art of using magic to paint her face beautifully with splashes of color, and used magic to make her lashes thick and long every morning, but I didn’t care to unless it was a special occasion.

  I observed the style of the room while waiting for others to arrive. It was fairly plain, with a few paintings here and there. A large, pristine desk at the head of the room belonging to the professor. Only a small stack of papers, a book, and an ink bottle with a quill sat upon it. A sleeping orange cat snuggled on a fluffy gray cushion in the corner. Three banners from each Kingdom hung from beams above. This ceiling was enchanted too as most were but this one made me marvel at the artist’s work. It portrayed something I wished I could go back in time to watch. The former Queen of Delhoon, Kyria dressed for battle, and my mother with big crimson wings protruding from her back. The likeness of it made me feel as if my mother stood in the room with us. They faced one another and their hair moved as if in a breeze, blue sparks erupted from my mother’s fingertips, and Kyria slowly morphed into three. Then the image’s motion would start over. A depiction from the Queens Challenge.

  Footsteps drew my attention and Professor Tessam, a woman from Delhoon by the badge on her robe, walked toward me. The curly hair of gray and silver and the fair but wrinkled face told me that she was old. Very old. She’d probably lived hundreds of years, and oh the stories she had to have. Even though magic-born aged slower and had a longer lifespan than illcasts, not many had lived to their full potential because of the wars and the killing of our kind for so long.

  Professor Tessam approached my table with a warm smile. “Hello, Princess Visteal. It’s wonderful to have you in my classroom. Given who your parents are, I expect great things.” She paused for a moment giving me a long look. I wondered what she was about to say. “I’ve heard from some of your past professors that you’re rather gifted with magic but you lack the drive to be the best.”

  My cheeks burned and I looked down at the gold lettering on the book in front of me. None of my professors had ever told me that straight out. And it wasn’t that I didn’t try, I was good at most things but the best? My father never once pushed me to be Nerandae, the title given only to those who truly were the best at everything, now I wondered if it was because he didn’t think I could be. Or did he too think I lacked drive? My eyes lifted from the book to her face not knowing what to say.

  She filled in the silence, “I’ve lived four hundred and seventy years, Visteal and I’ve never seen magic like your mothers. Not once. Your father is almost as rare, given how strong his magic is especially for a man. I don’t expect a response, but I want you to consider what I’ve said and consider the potential power that runs through you. I’d hate to see you not live up to what you could be because you want to fool about and not take your studies seriously. I know what you and your friends did with the snakes, also that you put a professor to sleep and that wasn’t even close to your first offense. This is your fifth year. Your time left at the academy will go by much faster than you think and in the end I hope you will be prepared to face the challenges ahead.” I almost expected her to shove a finger at me for emphasis but she simply turned and moved to the front of the class, her robe dragging on the ground behind her.

  This new academy was not starting out well for me. I hadn’t even realized I’d earned this reputation among the professors, aside from Deg, but I should have known, and the burning in my cheeks wasn’t from anger. No one had dared say anything like this before. I looked about the room to see if anyone had overheard and to my dismay—my utter shame, Zyacus was standing in the aisle behind me, and no doubt heard every word. Though I expected a smirk—a gloating expression—his face was serene as a placid lake.

  He looked away as if he hadn’t been listening and plopped into the chair at the table behind me. A Delhoon girl sat down beside me and gave a small smile. “Hello, your highness,” she whispered and then looked ahead.

  Tessam clasped her hands together and with the snap of her fingers a paper appeared in her hand. “I’ve made seating arrangements. Since as I expected all of you have chosen to sit with someone from your own kingdom. We created this school to intermingle and well, it looks like that isn’t happening on its own.” Her eyes fell to mine for a moment and I knew what she was going to say before she even said it. My stomach twisted a little and my palms even felt clammy.

  “Princess Visteal, Prince Zyacus, you’re here.” She pointed to the far left table in the front row.

  Without looking at anyone, I took my book in hand and moved past three other tables to get to the front while she continued calling out names. The students who’d been at my table before, stood and waited off to the side.

  When Zyacus slid into the seat beside me, my eyes—the traitors—flicked over to him.

  Not even looking at me, he set his book on the table. “Princess,” he said flatly as if that was supposed to be a greeting. Better than “freckles.” I realized then I didn’t think he’d ever said my name. Never. When I thought about it, I didn’t know if I had ever called him by his name either. It was a
little game between us.

  “Prince,” I returned. Anger slowly bubbled inside me. Suddenly he wanted to be Mr. Serious? He’d annoyed me relentlessly for years and now he wanted to sit next to me and not even look over. Maybe since he’d overheard Professor Tessam lecturing me, he wanted to prove he didn’t fool about when it came to his studies, like I apparently did.

  “Unlike in Delhoon, the levels of magic ability in this classroom vary quite a bit. I want those of you who aren’t magic-born to know that the lack of magic ability doesn’t make you any less. You are all welcome here,” Tessam said with her arms behind her back. She walked slowly down the middle aisle. “As you should know by now, elemental magic is something that runs in the blood of magic-born. For us, conjuring flame or wind or lightning and the like, doesn’t require a worded spell to be spoken or thought. It comes as easy as breathing. Fortunately for those who are not magic-born, you will learn the elemental spells if you haven’t already, as well as many others this year. Some of you are in possession of a magic stone granting you the ability to use magic even if you are not magic-born.”

  I peeked over at Zyacus and his fingers danced on an object hidden beneath his shirt. I’d never seen his magic stone before but I knew that’s what he touched. I wondered how many other students had one, they were said to be rare.

  “I have four magic stones, thanks to some very brave Collweyans who retrieved them from the dragon’s cavern and donated them to this academy for the use of the students. Those in need will take turns using them.” Tessam had reached the back of the classroom and then made her way toward the front again, her feet tapping loudly even though she was small framed and slight. “I have partnered you with someone who is close to your level of ability and knowledge. Many of you have learned magic through your schooling but I expect much more out of each one of you than your other professors ever did; I guarantee it.”

  In the past, I would have been groaning inside but after what she said to me, her bold honesty, I craved the desire to be better. In fact, I wanted to be the best. It was too late for me to be Nerendae, I’d gotten too many low marks in my schooling in the past but I could be the best from here on. I’d always loved my sword and bow but much of everything else I slacked on.

  “We’re going to start this class off with a spell that will challenge each of you. Transfiguration or some call it transformation. First we’ll have you change inanimate objects into something else, then one living creature into another, and later in the year, you yourself will change into another living thing. As you should know by now, a living thing cannot be changed into something that isn’t alive and vice versa.”

  I gaped at her. This magic wasn’t usually practiced until seventh year. At least transforming ourselves. It was a level twelve spell, the hardest, with one being the simplest.

  A blond boy from Collweya raised his hand. Tessam gestured toward him, “Yes?”

  “Can a living thing like a frog be transfigured into a plant?”

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “Could I be transfigured into a tree?”

  Tessam tilted her head to the side slightly. “One thing you will find is that it’s very difficult to transfigure yourself into something that doesn’t have a heartbeat, or a brain, and doesn’t breathe. It can be done but I wouldn’t recommend it. Also so you are all aware, to transfigure into another person without their consent is a serious offense.”

  With a wave of her hand, a dingy silver spoon appeared in front of each student.

  “I want you to change this into a beautiful piece of jewelry. I expect you to help your desk partner. Open your books to page eighty-seven. There you will find the spell. Those of you who are not magic-born and do not have a stone of your own, follow me.” She turned and her robe whirled around her.

  Six students from Hesstia, three from Collweya, and one from Delhoon got up and followed Tessam to her desk. Flipping open my book, I turned to the indicated page and began reading. The language of magic was one I’d learned as a young child, and the words of the spell looked fairly simple. Transignatia lino yardah. The tricky part was picturing the thing I wanted to change it into to exactness and using the right amount of power. Not enough and it wouldn’t change properly, too much and I could end up worn out and possibly even exploding the object.

  Out of the corner of my view, I saw Zyacus hover his hand over his spoon.

  He whispered the spell and his palm glowed, the spoon moved, shook and then settled back down unchanged. His hand fell back to his lap and he turned toward another table with a Delhoon and Collweyan boy and girl.

  It’s like he was trying to avoid looking at me. Was he really so mad I didn’t go out to the lake the night before? If he wanted to be like that it was fine with me. I read the spell over and over until I had every syllable memorized and then I pictured my father’s ring. It was a phoenix—the wings wrapped around his finger, the body sat in the center and it had two tiny jewels for eyes. My ring probably wouldn’t end up with the jewels but it could still shape into the magical bird.

  Closing my eyes, I held the image of the ring in my mind, chanted the spell and the power flowed through my fingers. The spoon rattled, the sound broke my concentration. When I looked, the spoon had bent into a circle but otherwise it appeared the same.

  “I thought you had it,” Zyacus said and my head snapped up.

  He watched me for a moment and a half-smile grew on his face. That devilishly handsome smile—I hated. Why did my heart flutter faster when he looked at me like that? Why did he have to be so beautiful? Almost inhumanly beautiful but more like a demon disguised as an angel. I wondered if his magic stone made him more attractive. Some said that magic could perfect the user’s physical appearance. I wasn’t sure how true that was.

  “What?” I asked. When he kept staring, I picked up my bent spoon, and inspected it to see if any other changes occurred.

  “Nothing. I just like looking at you.”

  I fumbled my spoon and it fell on my lap. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

  Eyebrows furrowing, he chuckled. “Did it sound like I was being sarcastic?”

  I glared at him. “No but you’re always an ass so I assumed. And if you weren’t being sarcastic then you no doubt have an ulterior motive. I’m not going to help you with the spell. Figure it out yourself.”

  With the tip of his finger, he pushed his spoon in circles. The sound of it scraping on the tabletop annoyed me. “We’re supposed to work together, Tessam’s orders.”

  I peeked up at the professor who was still helping the students with the borrowed magic stones. Looking around the room none of the other students had even bent or changed their spoons at all. At least I was ahead.

  “How do you expect me to help you?” I asked, closing my eyes again. This time I held the spoon in my hand and pictured my father’s ring.

  “What are you thinking of?” he asked, breaking my concentration.

  “A ring,” I snapped.

  “A plain ring? A pretty ring? What kind?”

  I clenched my jaw and looked over at him. “Why do you ask so many questions?”

  “If you want it to work you have to picture it exactly. A detailed ring will be harder.”

  I didn’t care what he thought or that he was right, I would change this into my father’s phoenix ring. “Don’t talk for a minute.”

  His lips pursed; he didn’t like being told what to do. Neither did I.

  “Please,” I added. “If I can focus, I can do it.”

  Even with his silence, I found it hard to concentrate knowing he was watching me. But my magic surged, the hum of it buzzing beneath my skin, and my palm warmed where I felt the weight of the spoon. I willed that thing to change, willed it to take the form of my choosing. When I opened my eyes it slowly morphed as it floated above my palm. In seconds it was to the exact likeness of my father’s ring, minus the jewels.

  In a flash my ring disappeared from my hand, and appeared in between Zyacus�
��s fingers. “I’m impressed yet again with your talents. But you could have chosen a better creature. This was predictable.”

  It took a lot of self-control to not punch him and take my ring back. The phoenix was the symbol of my kingdom, my heritage. Like the magical bird, spell casters, though trodden and hunted, would always rise from the ashes. “At least I can do it.” I hated how childish the words were as they left my mouth. Still fighting the urge to take back my ring, I dug my fingernails into my palms. “Your turn.”

  He flipped my ring to me as if it were a coin. I caught it and slipped it onto my middle finger. I admired it for a moment until he picked up his spoon. I wanted to watch his feeble attempt yet again so I could gloat.

  Showing off, he spun the piece of silver on the tip of his finger and in a blink, as if he didn’t even have to try, it changed into a wolf pendant. “My wolf could eat your phoenix.”

  I tried to hide my surprise but my mouth was agape. “You already knew how to do this spell,” I stated, wondering why he even pretended he couldn’t. He also knew the appearus spell and we hadn’t learned that at academy yet. Why did he know more than me at this point? A Hesstian, someone not even magic-born.

  “Attention class,” Tessam called, moving toward us. “Princess Visteal and Prince Zyacus have done it.” She clapped and many of the students did so as well. “Would the two of you please go around to others and help where you can?”

  “It would be my pleasure,” Zyacus said. He sounded like royalty, that’s for sure.

  I stood. “I’d love to,” I said, which wasn’t how I felt but I couldn’t let the Hesstian prince look better than me.

  We kept an eye on each other as we maneuvered around the room. It felt like a competition to see who could help the most. I explained the process over and over, and by the end of class only two of the people I assisted completed the spell. The others struggled with, I suspected, picturing the end piece. Some of them turned their spoons into disfigured animals. I guessed one girl tried to create an intricate swirling piece but it was a deformed pile of goop with holes. Others didn’t even morph theirs at all.