by Eva Ashwood
Professor Wist moved closer to inspect my handiwork, then glanced back at me. “Well done, Aria. You not only managed to put it in the right position, you did it without damaging any other structures in the room. For those who decide to use their magic for building and construction purposes, this will be incredibly important. Precision, everyone. That’s the key.”
Personally, I saw it more as a tactic that could be useful in a fight. If I could lift a wall, I could lift a person, and that could be a very helpful skill in magical battle. I had already been practicing my gag spells, a way to keep the person from speaking unless I allowed it.
“Looks like somebody’s been practicing,” Eden said, nudging me with a smile.
I shrugged. “I figured it would probably be helpful if I’m gonna compete in the Gods’ Challenge again. I’ll need to know as much as I possibly can. They were hard as fuck last time, and I know we would’ve done better and almost died less often if I’d known some of this stuff.”
“Again?” Eden’s eyes bugged wide, and I grimaced internally. Oops. I’d forgotten she didn’t know that part of my plan. “You want to go back to that place again? Is that even allowed? You already won the challenge once. You got the gem, so you’ve won the honor of meeting the gods after graduation. What happens if you win twice? Do you get a second meeting with them?”
“I dunno.” I lifted a shoulder, pulling a face. That wasn’t why I wanted to compete at all. The medal I’d won last semester had felt like a lead weight around my neck, and although I definitely wanted to meet the gods, I wanted to do it on my terms, not because I’d won some rigged contest.
“Do you think they’ll let you?” she whispered, still looking scandalized.
“They better,” I growled grimly. “I asked around, and there’s no rule against it. No one’s ever competed more than once before, but fuck it. First time for everything, right?”
“If you say so…”
Eden looked far from convinced.
Wesley was standing next to the blonde girl, practicing his magic. I could see him look over his shoulder and narrow his eyes at me before returning to his drills. I wanted to slap the look off of his face, but I figured the first week of classes was a little early to start getting into fist fights in class. Especially since I was pretty sure I’d be rocking the boat anyway by competing in the preliminaries for the right to return to the godly realm—no need to start the semester with Dean Frost pissed at me.
Still, I couldn’t resist poking him a little.
“Besides,” I told Eden, lifting my voice to be sure Wesley could overhear. He was obviously eavesdropping already anyway. “It’s not like there’s a ton of competition. Getting through the preliminaries should be a breeze. There are far too many people in the school who can’t even do simple magic. They struggle with the simplest things, like even lifting a little stone wall off the floor. You can do that, and you’re half the size of some of the guys in this room.”
She grinned, completely missing the subtle shade I was throwing at Wesley, who was struggling to lift the wall up as Professor Wist stepped back to watch.
“That’s right.” Eden beamed. “I’m small but mighty.”
“Yeah, you are.” I grinned and glanced over her shoulder, then grabbed her elbow and tugged her farther away from the wall. “Uh, let’s move this way a little.”
“Why?”
A second later, she got the answer to her questions. Wesley growled and turned his head toward me with a look of rage as he let the wall fall and break into huge shards of stone on the floor. Large pieces of it rolled across the floor and ground to a stop in front of Professor Wist.
She blinked down at the chunks of rock, then looked up with pursed lips. “Wesley, I think you need to try that again. Concentrate harder next time, and if you can’t get the wall where you want it, at least keep it in one piece. Otherwise, it’s a zero.”
Looking vaguely disappointed, she sent out a whirl of magic, putting the wall back together in seconds. But Wesley’s gaze was still glued to mine. I gave him a dark smile and turned back to Eden, ignoring the sounds of his muttered curses.
Yeah, fuck you too, buddy. Sorry I’m better at magic than you are.
I wasn’t as powerful as I’d been in the godly realm, but over the next couple weeks, I reminded myself constantly that effort and focus could make up for a lot of what I was missing in my power. And just because I didn’t have the same magical boost that seemed to infuse the atmosphere of the godly realm, it didn’t mean my power was weak. I was still stronger than a lot of other students in my year, and I was working my ass off to get better and better.
Being a physical person, and an impatient person, I had always gravitated a lot more toward the practical classes—Magical Combat, Power and Precision, things like that—than the theoretical ones. I’d much rather work up a sweat than crack a textbook any day, but I had started to apply myself equally hard in all my classes. My time in the challenge last semester had made me realize how powerful knowledge could be. There were actually times it was better to problem-solve than to fight.
And I wanted to know everything I could find out about the gods and their magic before I returned to their realm.
“Has everyone finished unit three in their textbooks?” The history professor asked on a cold Tuesday in late January as he paced back and forth in front of the class.
His name was Professor Twine, and he was a short stocky man, with a comb-over, and a nervous twitch that forced him to push his glasses up his nose every five seconds or so. I wasn’t actually convinced that his glasses were ever falling down; the gesture seemed more like an ingrained habit at this point. Professor Twine had been my professor the semester before too, and I was pretty sure he was the only history teacher in the school. Students only learned history during their first year before shifting to other things in their second and third years.
The students around me all mumbled their assent, flipping to the appropriate pages in their textbooks.
“All right then, let’s review quickly,” he said, shoving his glasses up his nose. “Last semester, you learned that long ago, the gods blessed humans with magic. Those humans who had been gifted with power then procreated, and so on, and so on. Their ancestors are the magic users of today.”
He had a slight accent, but I couldn’t place it. It definitely wasn’t Bostonian, and it was far too nasally for southern. It made it hard to focus on his words, but I shook my head and leaned my elbows on the desk, concentrating on him as he continued.
“Of course, none of you fit that mold.” His gaze swept the class. “None of you come from a line of magic users. You all developed magic, transforming from an ordinary human to mage as power sparked within you. That’s because every once in a while, the gods will bless new people with magic—usually young adults in their late teens or early twenties. Those who are given the gift of magic come to this academy to learn what their old magic counterparts have been learning since birth. Namely, how to utilize and control their powers. That’s why you are all here.”
I shifted in my seat, glancing back and forth, questions on the tip of my tongue. Everyone else was nodding along dully, and I wondered if none of them were at all curious, or if they were too afraid to ask.
Well, I’m not.
My hand shot up in the air. Professor Twine glanced over his shoulder at me as he wrote on the chalkboard at the front of the class. He nodded. “Yes, Aria?”
“So… why don’t all humans have magic?”
The hand that was raised to write on the board quickly stopped. Slowly, he lowered it to his side and turned to face me again. He clutched his hands nervously in front of him and looked around the room as if the gods themselves were going to barge in and answer the question.
Finally, he looked at me, the look on his face hard to read. “That would be a question for the gods, wouldn’t it? And it is not our place to question them. About anything.”
Before he could turn back
around, I asked another question. Actually, I asked several questions in a row.
“But how did the gods decide who deserves magic and who doesn’t? I mean, do they just choose randomly, or is there some kind of system? Like a lottery?”
The professor’s face changed quickly, and I knew that I had pressed the wrong button. He pulled down on his tight vest, still not managing to get it over the bottom of his belly. “As I said. It is not your place, or my place, or anyone’s place to question the choices of the gods.”
I was a bit taken aback by his reaction. I’d blurted out my questions because I was genuinely curious, and although I had no problem ruffling feathers or pissing people off, I hadn’t actually been intending to do that at the moment. Not only was Twine angry, but the way his hands scraped against each other, the way his knuckles turned white, and the way his gaze shifted wildly around the room made me think he was… afraid.
I opened my mouth for a third time, but he shushed me before I could even speak.
“Let me ask you this, Aria,” he said, pushing his glasses up his nose as he drew himself to his full height. “Would you rather have not been given magic at all?”
He didn’t even wait for me to answer before turning back to the board and continuing to write. The tone of his voice had rubbed me the wrong way—it felt like there was a threat hidden in there somewhere. Did he want an honest answer to that? My answer changed daily, sometimes hourly. While having magic was amazing in some ways, it was terrifying in others. And I missed my old life.
But I’m not sure the question was entirely rhetorical.
That vague threat in his tone had made it sound like my magic could be taken away if I didn’t prove myself properly grateful to have it. Would the gods do that? Could they? Could they strip someone of their magic with a snap of their fingers?
If they could grant it, there was no reason to think they couldn’t take it away just as easily. And despite my misgivings about having been given powers, I didn’t like the idea of losing them.
Without even bothering to raise my hand, I spoke again. By this point, I was trying to push Professor Twine’s buttons. I wanted to hear what else he had to say, what else he knew.
“It says here on page sixty-three,” I said, reading from my textbook. “‘The gods will decide using the great authority…’”
His arm flung back and shot a burst of magic toward me, slamming my book shut so hard it sounded like a gunshot.
Silence fell in the room, heavy and ominous.
Okay, okay, I get the message.
If I wanted to learn more about the subject, there were probably better ways than asking a professor. It was obvious from Twine’s reaction that it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about, and I had a feeling that not many would. Asking professors and going through official channels was only going to draw more attention that I didn’t want anyway. It would be better just to keep my head down and dig up the answers for myself, though I wasn’t exactly sure where I was going to find them.
After several moments of silence within the class, with my fellow students shifting their gaze uncomfortably between me and Twine—some looking curious and others irritated—the portly man turned and continued his lecture.
He didn’t look at me again for the rest of the class, nor did he accept me raising my hand to answer any questions. Every time he glanced toward me, his gaze darted away as if there would be some sort of punishment for even recognizing my existence.
What the fuck is his deal?
Whatever I had said had struck fear in him. I was pretty sure he would’ve kicked me out of the classroom if he could have. He wasn’t known for being the bravest of men, but I couldn’t figure out what he was afraid of.
Was he scared of me? Or of someone else?
I had asked my first question out of simple curiosity, and although Twine had never answered it, he had given me more information than he’d meant to.
He had shown me I was digging in the right spot.
Chapter Seven
“You could at least get the hell out of the way,” Wesley barked as he brushed past me in the hallway.
Ugh. Fucking dick.
I rolled my eyes, irritation prickling my skin. I hadn’t even been in the jackass’s way, but that was an unimportant detail to him. He definitely seemed to hate me even more than he had last semester.
We were almost four weeks into classes, and with the preliminary competition coming up soon, I had kept my head down, learning everything I could. Usually, I did my best to ignore Wesley, but I was so sick of his shit that I couldn’t help the annoyed scoff that fell from my lips as he strode away from me.
At the sound, he stopped charging down the hallway and turned back to me, his eyes narrowed. “Did you just scoff at me?”
Good gods. Who actually says shit like that?
My lips curled into a snarl as I dropped my bag from my shoulder. It hit the floor with a dull thud as I bent my knees in a fighter’s stance, my hands balling into fists as my chin tilted up slightly. It was the same posture I adopted in the ring when I was facing somebody who thought they were far better than they actually were.
“Yeah, dumbass,” I drawled. “You were being a total dick. So I would have to say that scoff was definitely directed at you. That scoff and about fifty others.”
Walking back toward me, he dropped his bag to the floor just like I had, and the students began to move to the sides. He stood just a foot away from me, his face turning more and more red with every breath.
He pushed his finger into my shoulder, and I heard several gasps around me. They were right to gasp. When people touched me without my permission, it never ended well for them.
“You think you’re better than everyone. Aria Fucking Banks. But you know what, little girl? You’re not shit. I know for sure you cheated somehow in the Gods’ Challenge last semester. You’re nothing but a piece of trash, some Boston nobody who for some reason was given the gift of magic. A gift you never deserved in the first place.”
I rolled my neck lightly, working the kinks out as I intertwined my fingers and stretched them out as well. Then I lowered my hands down by my sides and bounced a bit, rolling my shoulders.
“Okay, asshole. You think you know me so well. You think you know what it was like inside the Gods’ Challenge? You wouldn’t survive two seconds in there. So, I’ll give you a little bit of a handicap. Why don’t we see what you can do here on earth?” I let magic spark between my fingers, the thrill of a fight already surging through me. “I mean, this is child’s play for me, but I figure it’ll be more your speed.”
Wesley growled loudly, flinging a ball of magic straight at me. Without thought, I pulled my hands apart, bringing a shield of magic out in front of me. The swirling ball of energy slammed into it, pushing my feet back just a few inches. I moved my other hand sharply downward, creating a long, twisted whip of magic. I snapped it in the air, the sound reverberating through the hallway.
Red whirling energy swirled around Wesley’s knuckles. The magic sparked and hissed, but whatever spell he’d been about to cast seemed to have fizzled out. Probably because it was hard as fuck summoning and maintaining the concentration to do powerful spells in the adrenaline-fueled middle of a fight. I’d learned that the hard way in the godly realm, and I’d gotten a shit-ton of practice at it.
Wesley’s muscles tensed and released, and a trickle of sweat crept down the side of his forehead. Pulling my arm back, I whipped the magical rope at him again, letting it wrap around his wrist before yanking hard downward. It threw him off balance as magic simmered out of his hands, and a second later, his palms slapped against the ground.
He was up before I knew it though, his energy back on, the gathered students watching in nervous awe as we continued to fight.
Suddenly, a loud crackle and then a boom erupted from down the hallway.
Wesley and I both froze, turning toward the sound as we breathed hard.
It had come from fou
r doors down.
From the portal room.
As we all watched in silence, sparks flew out of the door and flashes of light lit up the hallway. A moment later, several figures emerged and came sweeping through the hallway.
Students immediately backed up to press themselves against the walls, watching the robed figures whose feet never even touched the ground. Those who were unfortunate enough to be caught in the middle of the corridor, like me and Wesley, were pushed back by a gust of magic unlike anything I’d ever felt. It didn’t slam me against the wall, but the force of the power that moved me out of the way made a shiver run up my spine.
As they passed, one of the newcomers turned their head toward me, but all I could see was glowing blue eyes from inside the dark shadow of his hood. Goose bumps erupted over my skin, and I rubbed at my arms as the tall man turned away. Angela, a girl I knew from several of my classes, put her hand on my shoulder and pulled me back even farther until we were both pressed tight against the wall.
“They’re messengers of the gods,” she whispered, awe and fear in her voice. “They are some of the oldest and most powerful mages in existence. Some of them live with the gods in the godly realm, and some of them are very old. People say that most of them are barely even human at all anymore.”
Several of the school admins, including the dean, hurried down the hallway, stopping to bow in front of the visitors. Their groveling obsequiousness made my stomach turn. I mean, sure, maybe we should be grateful to the gods for giving us magic, but it wasn’t in my nature to bow to anyone.
“Welcome,” Dean Frost said, her tone totally different than the one she took with us. “If you would follow us this way, we’ll go to a meeting room where we can speak in private.”
“I wonder what they want,” Eden whispered, sidling up beside me. She must’ve been on her way to class. “They don’t come to the earthly realm just for anything.”
I watched as the messengers followed the admins down the hallway toward the meeting room. Several of our professors started to shoo us back toward our classrooms, trying to break up the gaping crowd.
